Whistle 🗞️ Slow News Day #3

Hey,

Most Saturdays, I’ll pack my bag and head to a patch of grass somewhere nearby. I’ll get changed into my all-black uniform - sometimes in a lovely new clubhouse, sometimes in a cobwebby shipping container. I’ll stroll out onto the pitch and check for dog poo, sticks, and stones. I’ll blow my whistle and bring together 22 people to kick a ball (and sometimes each other).

Refereeing’s a dear hobby of mine. Facilitating a safe, fun, fair, and competitive game of football is so rewarding and it feeds my interest in the sport in a way that playing never did. But, my word, it isn’t easy.

I get one second - maybe two - between seeing and acting.

A ball ricochets out of play - did it touch a blue leg or did it graze a red ankle?

By the time I ask myself that question, I have to decide.

Blue defender has just slid in and red attacker has gone down. Did they play the ball? Where are we on the pitch? What are the consequences?

Sometimes it’s even as simple as:

“I know that’s a throw-in but I’ve completely forgotten which team is attacking in which direction.”

The funny thing is, I can do it. I can process it all and make a clear, confident decision in a split second. Refereeing has forced me to slow down and pay attention - consistently, minutely, and absolutely.

It sometimes feels like I’m freezing time. I rewind moments in my head as everyone around me moves in slow motion, remembering exactly what I saw in perfect detail. Either that or somebody’s dropped something funny in my water bottle.

That being said... as deliberately as I might try to think in a hectic moment, I won’t always get it right. The bemused look on a player’s face when I’ve given a decision the wrong way stings. I can always tell the difference between a feigned “are you sure, ref?” and a genuine cry of “really?!” Thankfully, it doesn’t happen too frequently, but those moments feel like a better lesson in slowness than when I make an accurate call.

I guess I'm learning that going slow doesn’t mean getting everything right every time. It's more like accepting that things will never be perfect, but that I’ve always got more time to balance out the bad decisions with many more good ones.

I just have to remember how much can fit into a second or two.

Slow down guide

Need a little help moving slower?

Ease your way out of Friday afternoon with this newsletter, a nice cup of something, and a little background music. Steal my setup if you aren't sure where to start.

After I press send, I’ll be brewing a cup of Tregothnan’s Afternoon Tea. Just before we left Cornwall, we drove across the peninsula and wound our way down to the tiny harbour village of Coombe. A contender for the clearest ‘land that time forgot’ I’ve ever seen. There, we went on a guided tour of the only commercial tea farm in England. Microclimates and unique wind patterns, see.

We walked a mile up wooded paths - the kind that curl over and ensconce you in greenery - and glimpsed sparkling flashes of the River Fal through the leaves. A little off the beaten path, we crossed into private land and stepped out into a slope of thousands of tea plants. They’re trees but are pruned to be more like bushes. We picked fresh tea leaves to the tune of a potted history of Coombe, tea, and assorted trivia. We sweltered in the fairytale microclimate of the Costa del Fal before heading back down to the tiny ‘Reading Room’ for a tea tasting.

I’ll be thinking about all that magic as I have my cuppa.

Music for this week? Try Katy Kirby’s Cool Dry Place out. Beautiful tones, midwestern emo tang, and another winner for the quiet-loud-quiet brigade.

Take it easy,

Joe