If you were walking down the street and approached an aggressor, leaning in your face, what would your instinct dictate? You would defend your personal space on a whim.
Constantine Hatzidakis, of course, was not walking down a street. But reflex doesn’t take location into account. Sensing the presence of Andy Robertson physically and verbally, the assistant referee has tried to shake him off.
Yeah, the angle of his elbow doesn’t look right. But there is a big difference between an intentional elbow intended to cause damage – a movement with your arm in a horizontal position – and the act of self-defense where Hatzidakis raises his arm towards the Liverpool defender. Give it a try, you’ll feel more like a chicken flapping its wings.
So please spare us this nonsense from the official justifying a ban. He needs to be reminded of his responsibility, as one who is there to keep order, and encouraged to learn from his response.
Then we need to focus on the real problem here – and that is the continued abuse of officials by players, managers, coaching staff and, by extension, supporters. It is grotesque, inhumane and irresponsible. Robertson just did what they all do.
Constantine Hatzidakis, the assistant referee who elbowed Liverpool defender Andy Robertson in the face, has been taken off while the FA investigates the incident
Andy Robertson claimed he was elbowed by the linesman at the end of the first half between the Reds and Arsenal at Anfield on Sunday, which ended in a 2-2 draw.
For the record, Hatzidakis didn’t “snap” either. It was a spilled second move in response to the player’s provocation. Look at the size of Hatzidakis. If he snapped, Robertson wouldn’t have been on his feet to cry viciously. It would have been like one of those viral videos that we all secretly enjoy where the bully ends up getting licked.
The danger is that we will end up with such a scenario when a referee or assistant really feels compelled to hit a player. That would have repercussions at every level of our game, further widening the divide between the two communities.
Therefore, despite all the campaigns we support in football, the one that promotes respect for another human being deserves the most attention. My own respect for public officials and determination to support their cause stems from two periods in my life.
First, as a Sunday morning player in my late twenties and with allegiance to my youth club increasingly numbed by my work as a sports journalist, I suddenly felt free of that tribal mistrust of the referee.
While my teammates on a Sunday had probably shouted the previous day and later complained about officials – and felt it was a natural continuation to do so when they played – I began to make a conscious effort to get the umpire before and after the find a match. our games.
It was nothing more than a “good luck,” “well done,” or “thank you,” but each time I was surprised by the sincerity of their gratitude. Obviously this didn’t happen often. You realize how isolated they must feel.
While we all went to the pub and no doubt scoffed at their performance, what did they do with the rest of their day? That unconscious bullying, the idea that it’s perfectly acceptable, has shocked me ever since.
Second, when I ghost-wrote Mark Clattenburg’s autobiography in 2021, I truly realized the human price of the sense of unease I had been carrying with me for more than a decade.
Liverpool protested to referee Paul Tierney after the alleged incident with the linesman
Football can create a lonely environment for Premier League referees these days
When I discovered the answer to my question (what did they do for the rest of their day?), I felt like going back and inviting those umpires to the pub, to break the divide between us and them. Because I’ve learned that the rest of their day—the rest of their week, in fact—is often a lonely place.
The abuse stays with them. They do question themselves. There is no pub where all the umpires meet on a Sunday morning and laugh at the missed opportunities, at our extreme incompetence. And if there was? Hell, we wish they were banned for life. How dare they!
So no, Constantine Hatzidakis should not be punished. We must try to understand why he raised his arm in Robertson’s direction. By tackling the cause of the problem, we eradicate the effect.
Hatzidakis gets a weekend off to avoid scrutiny, and that should be the extent of his absence. It will probably be one of his coziest weekends of the year.