Depending on your allegiances, Howard Webb is either England’s
pre-eminent World Cup final referee or Manchester United’s greatest signing. Those
are just two of the printable labels used to describe the 40-year-old former
policeman from Rotherham.
On Sunday at Stamford Bridge, those (and there are many of
us) who believe he is Sir Alex Ferguson’s greatest ally came loudly to the fore
as United, 3-0 down against Chelsea, were given two questionable penalties –
both stuck away by Wayne Rooney in the space of 10 minutes – before a Javier
Hernandez equaliser forced a dramatic share of the spoils.
But even that wasn’t good enough for Sir Alex. After the
match, he claimed: “We could have had four penalties. How they didn’t give one
in the first half I don’t know. That linesman (the previously anonymous Darren
Cann)... I don’t know where they get them from.
“They should've had a man sent off in the first half. Danny's
clear through and he was brought down. Nothing, no decision.
"That linesman gave a penalty kick against us from 40
yards away last year against Liverpool, this year against Arsenal - and he
can't see that?
"I don't blame Howard Webb - he needed help in that situation
and he didn't get it.”
And in a couple of phrases that would land most other Premier
League managers in hot water, he added for good measure: "That assistant
referee, who's all too happy to flag at Old Trafford for penalty kicks, didn't
give them."
And that, in a nutshell, is Mr Webb’s problem. It’s not that
anybody is suggesting he gets paid by United to give penalties – they’ve had
eight this season so far – it’s just that he appears to be the referee most
susceptible to Fergie’s particular Strathclyde dockworker style of persuasion.
At 70, Ferguson has been putting pressure on referees since
he gave up his role as an “effective striker with a lot of elbows” to coach St
Mirren in 1974. When he went to Aberdeen in 1978 and trophies began to come his
way, I remember Gordon Strachan telling us how the young coach used to tell his
players to surround referees if they’d made a clearly difficult decision
against his side.
There was one particular scene, involving Roy Keane and
David Beckham, with referee Andy D’Urso in 2000 I will never forget. The poor
ref looked like he was going to have a heart attack. A vein in Keane’s temple
was throbbing. D’Urso had nowhere to go. And all because he’d awarded a penalty
against United at Old Trafford. He didn’t get many United games after that.
And those intimidatory tactics have worked wonders ever
since. That’s nearly 40 years of bullying. Players, referees, journalists, even
the FA and the Glazer family who now squeeze the cash out of United. They all
get it. In spades.
On Sunday, when Gary Cahill escaped punishment for that
sliding challenge on Danny Welbeck a yard outside the box in the first half,
the expression on Ferguson’s florid face wasn’t so much anger as bewilderment.
His striker had been sent tumbling and NOTHING HAD BEEN GIVEN. He could barely
believe it.
It is my firm belief that Sir Alex, now beyond the realms of
usual managerial behaviour in the Premier League after 25 years in charge at
Old Trafford, made his feelings evident to Webb and his fellow officials at
half-time. He’s bigger than the game now. He does what he wants.
And when we came out for the second half, the ever-willing
Mr Webb was eager to make amends. To fall out with Sir Alex is not good for a
referee. Sir Alex, more than any other top coach, gets to tell the FA who he
wants in charge of his matches. If you fall out with United, your stock as a
public figures soon declines. Blowing the whistle at West Brom v Wigan on a wet
Wednesday night simply doesn’t cut it.
So what happens? Chelsea go 3-0 up five minutes after the
break. A miracle given they are without the three musketeers of Frank Lampard,
John Terry and Ashley Cole. Stunning. All footballing logic turned on its head.
Chelsea are cruising, United are well beaten.
It takes Mr Webb just eight minutes to restore normality. First,
in the 58th minute, marauding French fullback Patrice Evra goes
flying in to the box. Unlikely to get his cross in, he steps across Daniel
Sturridge’s tackle just as the striker goes in. Watch the video. Ignore the
pundits like Alan Curbishley who suggest it was “clear contact, a definite
penalty”. If Evra hadn’t moved across the challenge, Sturridge would have made
a faultless tackle.
But Webb was ready, just waiting for the tumble. PENALTY!
Chelsea’s defenders barely complained. They were three goals up. Rooney stuck
it away. But still 3-1.
But ten minutes later, it got worse. A lot worse. Just like
Adam Johnson for Manchester City the day before, Welbeck did the “dangly leg”
thing, the latest fashion for Premier League cheats. On the edge of the box,
Branislav Ivanovic stuck out a despairing foot to make a challenge. With
Welbeck no threat from that position, Ivanovic quickly pulled back the
offending limb. But not quick enough to avoid Welbeck – he actually moved his
leg away from the path of the ball to ensure Ivanovic made contact, and tumbled
theatrically to the floor. PENALTY!
From then on, with Chelsea heads down, it was just a matter
of time before, in the 84th minute, the little Mexican pea Hernandez produced
his equaliser. The only surprise was that United didn’t go on to win it.
Chelsea were gone. Andre Villas Boas had learned another valuable English
lesson.
I guess you can say one thing for Webb in this instance. At
least he made a game of it. No, I’m not saying he intentionally cheated. Just
that he was eager to keep the old tyrant happy on the side as he waved his
hands around and informed Webb just how much injury time to allow.
Graham Poll, the thing from Tring who fulfilled the
high-profile refereeing role before Webb, was another who recognised the need
to keep Fergie happy. He now writes a column for the Daily Mail and is a
well-rewarded after-dinner speaker, neatly forgetting the time he handed three
yellow cards to a Croatian at the 2006 World Cup.
Webb is rapidly falling in to the same traps Poll did. He
revels in being the centre of attention, he loves the banter with the players,
being a name. But is it any wonder?
As an 18-year-old he started refereeing in the North East
Counties League on the advice of his father. As far as I can tell he never
played any serious football, few of the modern whistlers do. Long gone are the
days when ex-players used to take up officiating. Most start in their teens now
as the FIFA retirement age is a ridiculously young 45.
At 38 Webb hit the peak of his art, refereeing Spain’s World
Cup final win over Holland at Soccer City in 2010 where he handed out a record
14 yellow cards (one of them became a red for Johnny Heitinga, the previous
highest for a final was six) and failed to send off Nigel De Jong for a perfectly
placed kung-fu kick on the chest of Xavi Alonso. For once both sides were
furious after the game. But Webb survived the furore and has another six years
of whistling while he works ahead of him.
Now Webb finds himself being dragged further in to, well, a
web of intrigue if you like. Long before any United match has kicked off with
him in charge, Webb is widely tweeted as being United’s 12th man,
their best signing, the one with most assists for the champions. It puts him
under huge pressure.
For as long as Sir Alex Ferguson is in charge at United –
and it looks like being at least another two years – Webb will be under the
spotlight when he handles a United game.
There is one easy way out. He could decline to referee
United’s crucial games. Do the honourable thing and admit it’s all become a bit
complicated. But he won’t. That would be too great a sacrifice for a man who
relishes the limelight.
So for now, we must accept that Webb will be in charge next
time United face a serious challenge. And my advice to defenders? Don’t go near
Welbeck’s dangling leg in the box. Or Rooney’s new hair. Or Ryan Giggs’ veteran
ankles. Webb will be waiting.
Abuse below is due to this post being linked to Chelsea website. Chelsea fans claim it isn't them, but nearly half of the hits come from their "The Shed" chat forum. I have tracked down IP addresses of the major culprits... just two. One masquerading as somebody else on Twitter in South Africa, a journalist with a grudge. The other unknown in Britain pretending to be a gang from the north. Sorry. Have cut the worst of it out, but leaving the rest. Police are aware of IP addresses and promise action.
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