By Yong Soo Heong
Once upon a time, football was a game of passion, drama, and the occasional referee howler. Now?
Now I’m told that it’s a bureaucratic pantomime starring a cast of headset-wearing screen watchers who couldn’t spot a foul if it tackled them in the car park.
Welcome to the Premier League’s longest-running farce: VAR and the Vanishing Goal, featuring Fulham, Wolves, and a supporting cast of confused officials, apologetic panels, and fans who’ve had enough.
Josh King’s recent goal for Fulham against Chelsea was so clean it could’ve been used to sterilise surgical instruments.
But VAR decided it was morally compromised by Fulham’s Rodrigo Muniz’s foot gently brushing Chelsea’s Trevoh Chalobah’s somewhere near the halfway line. Not in the box. Not in the danger zone. Just a casual toe tap in midfield, and poof—goal gone.
VAR Michael Salisbury intervened like a class monitor with a magnifying glass. Referee Rob Jones folded like a deck chair in a hurricane, someone felt.
Howard Webb, Professional Game Match Officials Limited’s chief refereeing officer and its part-time PR firefighter, later called it a “misjudgement.” Which is like calling a bank heist a “withdrawal error” some sharp observer said.
And the Key Match Incidents (KMI) Panel agreed the goal should’ve stood. Wolves should’ve had a penalty. Disgruntled fans should probably start watching sepak takraw instead.
Salisbury was stood down for the next game. Rob Jones? Still out there, refereeing like nothing happened.
One fan asked, “Why was only the VAR punished?” Excellent question. It’s like firing the guy who printed the map while the captain sails the ship into a volcano.
And the panel? A noble gathering of ex-players, league reps, and PGMOL board members who meet weekly to say, “Oops.”
They reviewed 35 incidents and got 33 right. Which sounds great until you realise the two wrong ones ruined games, wrecked points.
Football fans aren’t buying it. “Just get rid of it (VAR),” one said. “Human error in the moment can be accepted. These clowns seeing it 10 times on the screen and still getting it wrong can’t be accepted.”
Another suggested that VAR be run by the former canteen staff of a once-topflight club: at least they know how to handle a mess.
Some proposed a radical idea: VAR only gets involved if the referee asks for it. Old school, yes. Sensible? Absolutely.
One fan lamented: “How people can watch replay after replay and still get things wrong, I do not know. Perhaps they’ve never played football in their lives.”
And the apologies? “Sorry we got that wrong,” they say. “No harm done.” Except Fulham lost. Wolves lost. Points were lost. Relegation looms if they don’t win enough games. Meanwhile, it looks like the people managing the top football league continues to insist that everything is fine.
But let’s not forget the money. “If the EPL title hangs on one point due to a bad VAR call, it’s financial murder,” one fan forewarned.
Because the money involved in England and Europe’s top clubs is obscene, mistakes make content and controversy sells. And the status quo remains comfortably seated.
So, what now? Scrap it? Reform it? Replace it with a coin toss?
Whatever the answer, one thing’s clear: VAR is no longer a tool — it’s a character in football’s tragicomedy in the current decade. And right now, it’s the villain.
So, what’s point of apologising for VAR mistakes now that some well-earned points had already vanished into thin air?
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