Forget You

Cruising to a 4-0 victory today when referee gives our opponents a pity penalty with five minutes to go. You know the type, the sort he wouldn’t give in a million years if the game was close. Some people are willing to let this stuff go. Not me.

Since I can’t afford to get any more yellow cards and fines (not if I’m going to pay wife back for the Mercurial Vapor Superflies I bought on her credit card), I decide to box clever. I pick up my clipboard and in the largest possible letters, I scrawl some letters. Then I hold the board over my head as I stand right on halfway.

It takes the referee over a minute to notice. When he does, he stops play and walks over.

‘Are you trying to get me to send you off?’ he asks.

‘What ref, what?’ I reply, playing dumb.

‘The clipboard. The letters.’

‘What letters?’

He grabs the clipboard and almost shoves it in my face. Definite case of provocation.

‘Oh this,’ I say, holding it up so everybody now staring at us can plainly see the letters F U. ‘Sorry, I forgot to finish what I was writing.’

The look on his face says he’s not buying that so I quickly grab my Sharpie from my pocket and add another letter.

‘See, ref,’ I say, ‘it spells F-U-N. I was just trying to encourage my kids to enjoy themselves, to remember this game is meant to be fun.’

‘A likely story,’ he says, scrunching up his face like a man sucking a lemon. As he walks back onto the field, there are murmurs of laughter coming from parents on all sides.

I stand there basking in the glory of another victory for common sense over officialdom.