But they deserve credit for one thing: they keep up the pressure. They may do it in slightly insane and bizarre ways—the tactic of trying to have Willie Collum banned from their games was stupid and ultimately futile—but they do make an effort. They make a public spectacle of demanding justice and answers, even if most people can see that it’s just a smokescreen.
We lose these games so infrequently that it seems pointless to bang the drum after them. When you’re enjoying a victory, basking in the warm glow of triumph, and all around you the Ibrox hordes are losing their minds and spewing their venom on the radio and forums, it doesn’t seem like the right time to press your case.
But this is wrongheaded thinking.
In fact, there is no better time to press your case than when all is rosy in the garden. This is the best time to go to the authorities and say, “We don’t think good decisions are being made here. We have issues we want resolved, and questions that badly need answers.”
One question has arisen in the aftermath of Sunday’s game, although I thought it was valid even at the time: the decision that denied us a 10th-minute goal from Kyogo Furuhashi. It’s no less baffling when watched days later.
The VAR footage seems incredibly inconclusive. Now we learn there is serious doubt about whether the technology is even capable of properly analysing a decision that close.
There is a fascinating discussion online right now between Alan Morrison and the referees’ podcast team, “Behind the Whistle,” in which Morrison asks them to explain not only the decision but how the technology works. There’ve already been some stunning admissions: the way the cameras work is “blurry and fuzzy,” the lines are done by hand, and the technology itself is simply not up to the job. These are quite incredible declarations, especially from industry professionals.
Here’s the most important part of the exchange:
“As we’ve said, with all of these daft crayon lines and poor camera angles, we are supposed to just accept that Hawkeye gives a straight line even if it looks way off on the pitch. The Hawkeye aspect is ‘calibrated.’ The attaching lines are applied by hand. They draw it off the ‘sleeve line,’ as anything below can’t be scored with. But as per the prior tweet, the technology is incapable of correcting fact to reverse an on-field decision, so why Associations persist with it for marginal decisions defies any logic.”
Let me explain what that means. The Hawkeye technology relies on side-on camera angles to be even close to accurate. But Scottish football doesn’t have the money to fund a fully accurate system, so we’re restricted to a handful of available angles; we knew this already from one decision at Fir Park a couple of seasons ago, another farcical offside call.
Here’s the crazy part: that means a lot of it is subjective, even Hawkeye itself. Unless the incident happens directly parallel to the camera, you’re always going to get a slightly skewed angle. And the admission that “the lines are drawn by hand” makes it nonsensical.
In cases where the technology is suspect, and where it’s virtually impossible to get an accurate image, the decision should revert to the on-field call, which in this case was a goal. When there is no “clear and obvious” error, VAR should not even intervene. In a situation like this, the VAR itself might be making the clear and obvious mistake. The system in Scotland is not up to snuff, and as such, these former whistlers don’t even think it should be used for marginal decisions at all.
Alan Morrison points out that the rule on this is simple: in a marginal call like this, the attacker should get the advantage. That’s a rule, but one the “Behind The Whistle” guys say has now been superseded by the use of VAR.
Also, our version of VAR is grossly inferior to what they have in England’s Premier League, which makes it even more ridiculous. One reply Morrison got from “Behind The Whistle” offers another revelation from one of their recent podcasts:
“(We) spoke to a Doctor in Optical Technology who did a study into the cameras used for VAR. His findings were that the frame rates of the cameras being used can’t capture an accurate image due to motion blur.”
So, the whole thing is suspect.
The angle is suspect, but even if the angle were better, it would still be nearly impossible to make a proper judgement due to motion blur. As I said at the weekend, this is the dodgiest close decision since Gore vs Bush in Florida and the notorious “hanging chads.”
If it’s not corrupt, it is at the very least a horrendously bad call to overrule the on-field official with something that looks as debatable as this. And if the image of Andrew Dallas himself drawing these lines doesn’t get you, nothing will.
There is no better time for our club to ask for a full and frank explanation than now, after we’ve won. This is something we can put in front of the fans to inform them, and the wider Scottish game, about how unreliable VAR, as used here, actually is.
The media should be pulling this apart, but as usual, they don’t want to draw attention to what might be a blatantly wrong decision against us, no matter what the wider implications are.
No one can accuse us of sour grapes or deflection, nor can this be dismissed as a one-club issue. This is not a one-club issue. If VAR is that suspect, if the technology is being used subjectively, or if the technology itself is subjective, then that’s a much bigger problem than one decision, one game of football, or one club banging the drum.
We’re all guilty of putting too much faith in technology. We know the officials behind it can’t be trusted, but the technology is supposed to remove doubt, and instead, it introduces a new level of it. Let’s not pretend that it does not introduce new possibilities for corrupt behaviour because it clearly does. If there is an element of subjectivity in the system itself, that can be manipulated.
I have to think we’re making noise behind the scenes because when you look at that single decision, more questions arise than they have answers for and they concern the whole game here and how this technology is being used—or misused, as the case may be.
At the very least, it’s uncovered some horrible facts about our subpar version of it. Considering Scottish football isn’t exactly rolling in cash, we have to wonder whether we’re getting value for money out of a system that doesn’t do what it’s supposed to.
And that’s not good enough. It doesn’t matter who’s on the end of the decisions; you cannot make major calls in major games based on such a flawed piece of technology. If we’re not asking for answers, we bloody well should be and so should others.
Share this article
