Is sexism the new racism in football?

Photo: Phil Guest
I used to quite like Andy Gray. His enthusiasm for tactical analysis was infectious and his book Flat Back Four, observing defensive shapes and largely rubbishing sweeper systems at a time when they were quite popular (very few top clubs deploy them now), was a good read. However, he's turned into an arrogant tosser in recent times, and on two occasions this season has been overheard making ridiculously opionated comments 'off air'. A few months ago he called Arsenal's Theo Walcott "useless", and, more controversially, last weekend mocked the appointment of Sian Massey, a female assistant referee, for the Premier League clash between Wolves and Liverpool. Gray was about to cover the game in his usual role of co-commentator.

To be fair to Gray (in the loosest possible sense), it was Sky Sports' studio anchorman Richard Keys who provoked the issue and was probably the bigger culprit.

"Somebody had better go down and explain offside to her," Keys quipped in the pre-match build-up.
"Women don't understand the offside rule," Gray replied.
"Of course they don't. I guarantee you there will be a big one [crucial offside decision] today," said Keys.

Neither knew their microphones were switched on.

Well, Keys was right. And guess what, Massey got it spot on. It was a massively crucial call because it led to Liverpool taking the lead.

Raul Meireles was sent clear and Fernando Torres scored from his cross but despite Wolves players protesting that Meireles was offside, TV replays revealed that he was level with Wolves' last defender, Ronald Zubar, and was therefore onside when the ball was played.

Women are often mocked for not knowing the offside rule but that's hardly surprising when - forgive the generalisation - a large percentage have little interest in the game as a whole. Actually, my other half and I have a running joke that if she can't sleep she'll ask me to explain the offside rule to her. Trust me, within seconds she's gone. But the point is, not knowing the offside rule isn't a gender issue, it's simply knowledge or interest-based. How many men who don't like football can genuinely claim they know how the rule works?

Apologies for what may be a dubious comparison but what happened to Massey actually reminded me of an incident about 10 years ago when I played for Bugbrooke St Michaels, a local Saturday league team based on the outskirts of Northampton. We were about to take on a team from Rushden when our manager noticed something.

"Lads, their team has three Asians. Everybody knows Asians can't play football so get stuck into them, they won't like it," he hissed.

We went on to win the game 3-2 but one of those Asians scored both of their goals. This may have happened a decade ago but even then the Kick Racism Out of Football campaign was in full swing and largely a success.

Comparing race and gender discrimination is a somewhat sensitive issue, particularly as I'm neither a woman nor an ethnic minority, but there are certainly alarming similarities in terms of the representation issue. Without wanting to go all A Level Sociology on you, those who are under-represented in the workplace face the double burden of climbing up the ladder in the first place and then having to work extra hard when they get there to justify their promotion in a world where suspiciousness over quota issues and tokenism dominate.


It took a long time for black footballers in British football to be accepted and respected. Even when black players started to hurdle racism and came into prominence during the mid to late 80s there were still doubts as to whether they had 'the bottle' to cope when winter kicked in and teams had to battle on muddy and icy pitches. Obviously such accusations have been comprehensively quashed since. Black players are now strongly represented in the game and have become heroes and role models to fans all over the world. However, it's taken more than a generation to make it happen and now female officials face a similarly uphill task.

What makes Gray and Keys's comments even sadder is: a) it wasn't even Massey's first Premier League game (her debut was a month ago when Sunderland played Blackpool); and b) she isn't the first female official by a long shot. As far back as 1991 (ironically the same year Sky started covering live football), Wendy Toms was appointed as a fourth official for a third division match between Bournemouth and Reading, and after a stint refereeing in the Football League Conference she became a Premier League referee's assistant in 1996.

Not that she escaped prejudice, of course. In 1999, Gordon Strachan, then managing Coventry, was livid with her performance after his team were beaten 4-3 by Leeds following a controversial offside call in Leeds' favour.

"We are getting PC decisions about promoting ladies. It does not matter if they are ladies, men or Alsatian dogs. If they are not good enough to run the line they should not get the job. Saturday's was the worst assistant refereeing decision I have seen this season by far and I've said that in my report. The fourth Leeds goal was offside by at least four yards and there were numerous other bad decisions in the game. My message is don't be politically correct and promote people just for the sake of it," he fumed.

Four years ago, another female official in Amy Rayner suffered even worse abuse. Commenting on her performance as a referee's assistant after his Luton team were beaten 3-2 by QPR, manager Mike Newell said: "She shouldn't be here. I know that sounds sexist but I am sexist. This is not park football, so what are women doing here?".

Unfortunately, unless a significant number of female referees break through into the big leagues soon, officials like Massey are going to suffer comments like these, and no doubt even worse ones from fans, for many years to come due to being so under-represented in the men's game.

However, ending on a more upbeat and somewhat chaotic note, since I started this blog 24 hours ago Gray has been sacked by Sky. It's a brave decision considering he and Keys have fronted Sky's football coverage right from the start 20 years ago. But perhaps this whole incident epitomises the generation gap. Back then email, internet and mobile phones didn't exist and Status Quo were still being played on Radio 1. Life has moved on significantly since but attitudes don't necessarily follow suit.

At the time of writing nothing has been decided on Keys's future. He should really go as well for his part in the furore. He has apologised to Massey but does that really mean anything? Like a schoolchild given detention for copying a classmate's spelling test, isn't he just sorry because he got caught?

Besides, how someone with as little charisma as Keys has lasted this long fronting live football coverage is anyone's guess. As far as I'm concerned that's as good a reason as any to confine him to the scrapheap.

I wonder what Gray's wife makes of all this. Maybe she's slaving away over dinner in the kitchen while he sits in the dining room masturbating over whether to position the pepper pot behind the salt and Ketchup or deploy it wider to sit in front of the bottle of wine.

Never mind, Andy, I'm sure you'll get a call from ITV soon...

Removing the splinters

"Ha ha, I can't imagine you thinking of anything, Kris!" The words of a friend a few months ago during a night out on London's South Bank. I'm sure we've all had the Room 101 conversation at some point. Annoyingly he was right at the time. I think I came up with something banal like "ignorance" - and that was it.

Although being a generally relaxed, easy-going and glass-half-full person is no bad thing, and I know a lot of people love me for it, there are times when I know I should get off the fence more. The previous blog was a semi-decent attempt although even that 'rant' was closeted to a certain extent. So this is my Room 101 - five things I'd bin or ban with immediate effect. As Dermot O'Leary would say, these are in no particular order (X Factor is a guilty pleasure so Cowell escapes).

1) Celebrity Britain

Yes, I realise it's a soft target but to be honest I don't have a problem with celebrities per se; it's the nation's obsession that really pisses me off. Actually, I nearly put ITV in this list on its own as it's by far the worst offender but there are enough other issues to keep it out. Nevertheless, let's start with ITV, the epitome of barrel-scraping. The whole Peter Andre and Jordan thing is just too depressing to go into at length. Who watches this shit? Who gives a shit what they get up to or "what they did next"? It's simply moronic TV, made by morons about morons and consumed by morons who have no lives of their own and survive on Heat magazine gossip.

Then there's Celebrity this, Celebrity that. I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here, Celebrity Come Dine With Me, Celebrity Big Brother, Celebrity Juice. Actually, All-Star Family Fortunes is one that particularly bugs me as it appears to have replaced the original series. What was wrong with the traditional family format? The celebs are never exactly A-listers for a start.

Elsewhere, we have those cheap countdown shows - "50 Greatest TV Moments", "50 Funniest TV Sketches", "100 Most Hysterical Daily Mail Rants", etc. I do have a soft spot for them, actually, and it's always nice to get an insight from those involved in whatever the feature is, but all too often they interview random celebrities with no connection to the subject whatsover. Who cares what they think? Wouldn't it be nice to have a few 'ordinary' members of the public in the talking head sections with more meaningful opinions, rather than Ross Kemp discussing the merits of Wuthering Heights? (A fictional example) My other big gripe is with the BBC series Live At The Apollo. A decent show but marred by the opening minutes in which the host announces which celebs are in the building, to cheers from the audience. I couldn't give a shit - these are just ordinary people, no more important than anyone else, and shouldn't be presented as VIPs. Ultimately my point, I guess.

2) Snoods


What the...?! Is that a scarf he's wearing? I mentioned in a previous blog how effeminate football ultimately is, or at least has become, but this is ridiculous. Yes, this is the current snood epidemic sweeping through the Premiership and beyond. If you aren't aware already - lucky you - a snood is a cross between a scarf and a neck-warmer, and more and more "world class" players are wrapping up warm on the pitch, bless them. I should add that this phenomenon started before the recent cold snap so there's still no sympathy from me.

When I first started playing competitively 20-odd years ago at youth level, we played in some dire conditions between the months of November and February - howling gales, torrential rain, mudbaths, sometimes all at the same time. Not that I'm suggesting for a moment that we just got on with it without any complaints. Of course we all moaned - well, we were kids for a start - and especially did so on occasional matchdays where there were no changing rooms and we had to change in our parents' cars. And it was even worse when it was really cold as well and fingers became too numb to do up bootlaces. But once the game started we soon warmed up and it was our parents who ultimately suffered on the touchline.

Surely the pain threshold of youngsters is much lower than these pros, yet I don't remember taking to the field in gloves, tights and scarves. I may have worn a thermal vest under my shirt but that's about it. Dressing well in the pre-match warm-up is one thing, as muscles need protecting, but do grown men really need winterwear during a game? Maybe I'm being ignorant but wouldn't the crowd and the floodlights generate at least some warmth to balance out the temperatures? Shouldn't the fact that most players run the equivalent of eight miles during a game make wearing gloves and scarves redundant? I have to admit that I had reservations about this choice because I discovered Alex Ferguson had a similar rant, and the thought of agreeing with him made me shudder. However, on this occasion he's got it right and actually banned his players from wearing the snood. Good on him. Nurse!

3) Friends

The TV show, obviously. Sorry but it's rubbish. Perplexingly, I've yet to meet anyone who thinks along the same lines, including a big chunk of my friends, all of whom are intelligent and possess a sense of humour well beyond the intellectual level of this shit, which makes me wonder if the show employs a hypnotist to decimate its viewers' IQ for half an hour. If so, I must have been one of the lucky few to escape. "You have to get to know the characters," they say. I tried. None of them are remotely believeable, all of them are immensely irritating. "You just don't like American humour." Not true; I love Frasier, Scrubs, South Park and The Simpsons, to name just a few.

Basically, the show is lame, the jokes are lame and the audience is embarrassing, whooping at the merest hint of a euphoric moment in the script, or whenever a guest celebrity marches in for a pay day. You may have noticed that I've been writing in the present tense even though the show finished a few years ago. Well, that's because it's still always on, to the point where you're almost guaranteed to find it somewhere if you flick through the channels. Sure enough, I've just done this and there's a double helping on E4 as I write. And anyway, there's bound to be some reunion episode at some point. But what about Jennifer Aniston, I hear you beg. Fair point but not fair enough. She still can't save me from The One With The Holiday Armadillo. Or the Rembrandts.

4) Boardroom Wanking

"I say, is that Rupert? Charlie Fotherington-Smythe here from Dick Head Office. How about we touch base on the bullshit turnover this afternoon over a triple moccha frappuccino with marshmallow topping? Then we and the guys can get together to brainstorm some B2B strategies for Buzzword Central."

"Bravo, Charlie, sure thing! Ah, we also need to bookmark a blue-sky conference with Chad from the NYC Headquarters to streamline the overseas market. I know he tends to be all smoke and mirrors but I'm sure we can still diversify within the contingency plan."

"Right you are. Good work, Rupert, catch you later. Ciao!"

If you ever hear me using language as offensively pompous and ultimately meaningless as this, there's a special sell-out helpline. In the meantime, a good kick in the nads will do.

5) New Year's Eve

Christmas is great. Time to forget about work, relax with family and friends, swap pressies, wear stupid hats, watch wall-to-wall football and eat and drink to oblivion. The one downside is knowing you're only a week away from the damp squib that is New Year's Eve.

It's scandalously over-hyped and allows various establishments to charge a fortune for what's probably going to be an evening of overcrowding, hour-long queues at the bar and people pretending they know the words to Auld Lang Syne. It's particularly awkward if you are single as it means there's more pressure to go out, and if you also happen to live in a small to mid-sized town, there's more pressure to decide what to do early because the popular pubs and clubs tend to sell tickets in advance.

Living in London is much easier because it's a huge place and means you can pretty much go out wherever you like and decide what to do as you're going along. Public transport is also free, which is a bonus.

But despite being lucky enough to belong to the second category, and be in a relationship, I still don't enjoy New Year's Eve at all. There's a whiff of fakeness about it and it can also be a pretty depressing time if you're reflecting on a bad year - maybe a break-up or the loss of a loved one. Ironically, the only occasion I had a truly brilliant New Year's Eve was the on the most hyped night of all - 31st December, 1999. There was no meticulous planning. It was just me and my best friends from school, a curry, some booze and a mini house party in Preston and it felt special. That was a genuine one-off, though.

For me, the real celebration, and the biggest relief, is waking up on January 1st with Auld Lang Syne, Big Ben and fireworks in the past, and the mobile phone networks back in tact.