It’s hard to beat the referee-how many times does it feel like this?

This isn’t just about this game. It’s about all the games where it feels like the refs only wake up when it threatens the lines and the calls only seem to go one way.

Monday morning armchair Excuses don’t change the score. The fact remains that the only way to beat the machine is to do like ‘19 and leave no room to wiggle and no chance for the striped squad to determine the outcome.




The Referee

Men play the game, We’re all the same,
All players on both sides,
Based on our skill, it’s die or kill,
Defeat or vic’try rides,
We’ve all been schooled, we know the rules,
But what keeps irking me,
Who loses, wins, it all depends,
Upon the referee,

In truth, we all are cheating,
In the fury of the fray,
We bend the rules to breaking,
And we hope we get away,
We keep doubt in our corner,
Lest too far we cross the line,
When the minutes scarcely matter,
Well it seems the refs are blind,

But in that eleventh hour,
Their vision seems to clear,
Little sins long overlooked,
Sudden seem to cost us dear,
If the outcome could be heinous,
For the ones who hold the bag,
To the rescue comes the action,
From the hands that hold the flag,

Some may claim I speak balderdash,
And call my words untrue,
I’ll counter, trust your eyes,
And recall all in your purview,
Why sudden sins are grievous,
When they’ve long been overlooked,
Whose hand is in the pocket,
Of the one who pulls the hook?

Alas, the game is far from pure,
The refs are here to stay,
And the only remedy,
Is to remove their chance to sway,
For if you wish to thumb the eye,
Of all the powers that be,
You’d best beat your foe like bullies,
Cause you won’t beat the referee