IF IT was boxing and not football then surely the fourth official would be the one wearing the bikini, after all what do they do besides hold up a sign? Well, get offended apparently.
This is a shame because to hold up a sign has been quite the calling throughout humanity's rise from cave-dwelling pseudo-ape to planet-destroying über-species.
Who amongst us cannot appreciate the mad-capped nobility of a sandwich-board clad prophet? Or the partisan passions of a party of placard-wielding protestors? Or simply empathise with the poor sod in a gorilla suit that dances beside a busy road advertising take-away pizza on a Friday night?
Yet some fourth officials are not interested in continuing their small yet vital contribution to the annals of alofting signs. Instead they want to continue the other, less-dignified human tradition of acting like a jerk just because one wears a uniform and has a position of authority (eg parking inspectors, nightclub bouncers and of course, the Nazis).
Sunday afternoon at Suncorp Stadium provided a good example in what a Perry Mason opening credits voice-over might term, The Case of Cranky Frankie and the Fourth Official.
I'm sure, you've all seen it by now. Tommy "Don't Call Me Thomas" Oar commits a second yellow card offence and Roar manager Frank Farina, caught up in the moment, proceeds to vent his frustrations.
All would have been fine except the fourth official, not content with his station in life as a mere sign-holder, approaches the Brisbane Roar technical area. Farina then releases an allegedly abusive rant, followed by a non-descript, yet disparaging hand gesture and before long finds himself in the change rooms along with the aforementioned Oar.
While I don't condone Frank Farina's actions I cannot help but think the whole situation may have been avoided if the fourth official had thought discretion the better part of valour and not been so eager to confront a temporarily insane football manager.
Quite possibly that rant might have been directed at the next available person had the fourth official not been immediately at hand.
Surely it would have been a better outcome for all concerned if Farina had been given the time to instead vent to his staff, his players, his wife or even to my much beloved Roary (whom incidentally gave me a hug on Sunday while his gorgeous assistant declined, but that's a topic for another day).
There would have been no ugly confrontation with the officials, no breach of the code of conduct, no sideline ban and hence no bad publicity for the club and for the competition.
If the fourth official didn't play diplomatic liaison and could be content to simply hold up a sign a handful of times throughout the game then this whole ugly mess could have been avoided.
Heck knows the previously referred to sandwich-board clad prophet of doom would have done just that. And, to see "the end is nigh" held aloft at the end of ninety minutes, that would surely be a more profound statement than a simple number could ever be.
