They say rugby league was established in 1908 predominantly as a means for paying amateurs, but it was mostly for hammering refs.
In fact, the 13 man code broke away from rugby union so fans could fly off the handle easier with a rulebook that could be actually understood.
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But even despite this nauseating history of blaming officials for everything from 60 point hidings to climate change, the fallout over Kasey Badger has been putrid even by rugby league’s standards.
Badger’s performance in the Tigers vs Bulldogs game on Saturday wasn’t her finest hour, nor will it be the last time a referee loses control of a few blowflies.
To be fair, the closing minutes devolved in to an open-air prison, and no doubt next time she’ll have more decisive measures for Reed Mahoney, like time-off or a sock.
And yes, allowing Aiden Sezer to remain on the field after a garden-variety hip-drop Michael Ennis described as “a sin bin every day of the week” was a duffed call too.
But despite this glaring oversight being reached by a 725 man committee of touchies and Bunkermen, that didn’t stop the mannerless vulgarians of the online space pointing the finger solely at Badger.
Put simply, the diatribe flung her way in the aftermath has lowered us as a species to reptiles, and to any actual reptiles living under a rock eating their own dung who are reading this, apologies for bringing you down to our level.
News.com.au has seen countless examples of disgraceful abuse directed towards Kasey Badger which we have chosen not to republish.
No referee is beyond constructive reproach, but harnessing a few errant calls to ventilate your disgusting 1950s pipe-and-slippers sexism is crook as hell.
Badger is four games in to her NRL refereeing career, she’s the wife of a former referee, and yeah – she’s a woman.
For some reason, a section of the public think it’s necessary to reference the latter whenever the ruck speed isn’t to their liking.
And let’s be fair dinkum, it’s a clear double standard; many male referees have lost control too, but are they ever subjected to the same venomous stereotypes from unloved stooges with three followers and a V8 as their profile picture?
Of course not.
Anyone with an ounce of compassion understands that refereeing ain’t easy.
After all, have you read the obstruction rule? Because if it was explained to you and you understood it, it wasn’t explained properly.
Imagine trying to police this kinda stuff with crossfire in your ears from touchies and the Bunker while David Klemmer bursts steam at you like an opened bag of microwaved popcorn.
Referees get hammered on Saturday, bashed in the papers Sunday and hung out to dry by Graham Annesley on Monday.
Add the tiresome responsibility of marshaling woodpeckers like Mahoney – the love child of Michael Ennis and Simon Woolford – and we should be celebrating them for the 99% of decisions they make accurately.
Thankfully the worm is turning, with NRL CEO Andrew Abdo leaping to their defence by reiterating that referees deserve “respect and support”.
Even the Holman Barnes Group stripped support for a Wests Tigers fan podcast in response to some ghoulish comments about Badger from its host.
These are steps in the right direction, because referee pathways are so woefully understocked right now that it’s almost time to call upon Phil Gould or conscription.
Cadet refs are getting blasted at junior footy by beer-bellied drop-kicks and online conspirators who can’t recall their firstborn’s name are still harbouring resentment over an overlooked knock-on from the 3rd minute in 1994.
Furthermore, fans still spend hours on end berating refs and twice as much time researching their family tree for an ancestor who supported an NRL side to foster their tenuous accusations of bias.
On this trajectory, rugby league will soon have no referees and will likely have to enlist those undergoing community service.
In summary, refereeing is a thankless pursuit where one deals with Mahoney’s gamesmanship and Klemmer’s breath while Phil Sami laughs at you.
Badger and her contemporaries have a hard enough job as it is without fans reverting to terrible calls from the 1970s, and that’s not referring to a missed forward pass.
– Dane Eldridge is a warped cynic yearning for the glory days of rugby league, a time when the sponges were magic and the Mondays were mad. He’s never strapped on a boot in his life, and as such, should be taken with a grain of salt.
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