L'arbitro del calcio giovanile (The youth football referee)
QCER B2376 parole
Andrés Puig has refereed youth football for twenty years. In his regional association, seven out of every ten new referees give it up before the end of their first season. We spoke to him in a car park, half an hour before a match for twelve-year-olds.
Q: Seven out of ten. What happens to them?
A: The story people expect is that they cannot stand the shouting. The shouting is real, and I will not pretend otherwise. The ones who leave, though, are almost never the ones who had a terrible afternoon. They had an ordinary afternoon, went home, and found that nobody had anything to say to them.
Q: Nobody from the club?
A: Nobody from anywhere. You referee your first match at sixteen, alone, in a town you have never seen, with two sets of parents behind you who have known each other for years. Then you get changed in your car and drive home. Nobody is waiting to tell you what you got right.
Q: Are they not trained for that?
A: They get a course, an exam and a whistle. The course teaches you the laws of the game. It cannot teach you what to do when a coach walks along the touchline asking, very politely, whether you would care to explain your decision to the parents. That part you learn while it is happening, in public, at seventeen.
Q: And the pay?
A: Thirty euros, minus the petrol, and your Saturday is gone. Nobody starts for the money, but the money is what they mention when they resign: it is the only reason that sounds reasonable out loud.
Q: So what keeps the other three?
A: An older referee who phones them on the Monday. That is not my theory; it is what they tell me. We tried pairing beginners with experienced referees twice, and both times we had to stop, because it takes people and there are never enough people.
Q: And today?
A: Today there is a girl of seventeen doing her fourth match. I have arranged to be here, on the touchline, in my coat. Whatever happens, we are having a coffee afterwards and I will tell her the two things she did well. It takes twenty minutes.
Parole che forse non conosci
- refereearbitro, arbitra
- to give something uplasciar perdere, smettere
- shoutingle urla
- to get changedcambiarsi
- whistlefischietto
- the laws of the gamele regole del gioco
- coachallenatore, allenatrice
- touchlinela linea laterale
- petrolbenzina
- to resigndimettersi, rinunciare
Domande
Si risponde con il testo davanti. Non è memoria: è capire.
According to Andrés, which new referees usually leave?
Those left without support after an ordinary match — Andrés scarta ciò che ci aspetteremmo: quasi mai sono quelli del pomeriggio disastroso. Sono quelli che hanno avuto un pomeriggio qualunque e non hanno trovato nessuno che dicesse loro qualcosa al ritorno.
Andrés denies that new referees are shouted at.
False — Falso: dice esattamente il contrario, «The shouting is real, and I will not pretend otherwise». Quello che nega è che le urla siano la causa degli abbandoni.
What gap remains after the course, exam and equipment?
Beginners still lack supported practice in dealing with people. — Il corso insegna le regole e il fischietto permette di segnalare; manca sostegno nelle situazioni interpersonali reali.
What does the detail of getting changed in the car mainly tell us about a new referee's first match?
It conveys the newcomer’s lack of a place of their own — Cambiarsi in macchina fa parte della scena di solitudine: arriva in un luogo estraneo e torna senza sostegno. Il punto è la mancanza di appartenenza. Il testo non descrive gli spogliatoi né afferma che sia arrivato in ritardo alla partita.
Why is the pay the reason people give when they stop refereeing?
Pay provides a socially acceptable explanation for leaving — È lui stesso a distinguerlo: nessuno comincia per i soldi, ma i soldi sono quello che si dice andandosene, perché è l'unica ragione che suona ragionevole ad alta voce.
Why does Andrés end the interview by describing his plan for the seventeen-year-old?
He personally provides the mentoring the association could not sustain — Il piano di affiancare i principianti ai veterani è stato provato due volte e due volte si è fermato: «it takes people and there are never enough people». Quello che racconta alla fine è la stessa cosa fatta per conto suo e per una persona sola: essere a bordo campo, il caffè e le due cose che ha fatto bene.