How does your club treat your refs?

Back in 2011, I was refereeing a game of rugby in Blyth, Northumberland. I was in my second year as a referee, working my way up the grades, and officiating some, let’s say, seasoned veterans of the game.

At half time, an older man came over to me from the sideline and told me I was doing a great job. He asked about me, where I was from, what I did outside rugby, and we had a good old natter. As it got close to restarting, he said, “You’ll come back into the club afterwards, won’t you?”

A little uncertainly, I replied, “Erm… yes.”

He looked me in the eye and said, “Make sure that you do.”

With this handshake agreement of sorts, there was no sneaking away after the final whistle.

After the game, I went into the clubhouse and the same man walked straight up to me and said, “Come with me.” He took me to the bar and said to the barman, “Fetch this man whatever he wants for the rest of the night.”

Then he turned to me, came in close, and said, “A referee never pays for a beer in this club.”

As the afternoon went on, people greeted him warmly, hugging him, patting him on the back, stopping for conversations. So it wasn’t much of a surprise when he later stood up to present speeches and awards as club president.

I’ve thought about that day a lot since.

I’ve thought about it when reading articles about declining referee and official numbers. I’ve thought about it when visiting clubs and standing in their bars, trying to feel the atmosphere of the place. I thought about it years later when a stranger walking past an Under 8s game I was refereeing told me I was doing well. And I thought about it when a team manager once told me I was “doing a terrible job at the ruck” and that “we owed it to our kids to get every call right.”

We’re all human. We all respond to kindness, encouragement, and feeling valued.

Maybe the future of officiating isn’t only about courses, recruitment campaigns, or rule books. Maybe part of it is much simpler than that. Maybe it starts with how we greet people when they arrive, how we speak to them during the game, and whether we thank them afterwards.

Officials don’t just remember the abuse. They remember the welcome too.

A quiet word of encouragement. An invitation into the clubhouse. A handshake. A simple “thanks for your time today.” These things stay with people longer than we realise.

If we want more people to pick up the whistle, perhaps the first question we should ask is not “Why are referees leaving?” but “What does it feel like to referee at our club?”