http://www.time.com/time/europe/2006/wcup/technophobia.html
Twenty-six minutes into a first-round World Cup game last week, Japanese midfielder Shunsuke Nakamura launched a speculative ball into the Australian penalty area. Aussie goalie Mark Schwarzer charged impetuously at the cross, collided with — or was pushed by — a Japanese player, and the ball sailed into the net. Foul or goal? Egyptian referee Essam Abd el Fatah initially had no doubt, brushing aside furious Australian protests. (The Egyptian later apologized to Schwarzer for allowing the goal.) The call wasn't decisive; Australia scored three times in the last 10 minutes to win the game. But say the score had ended 1-0? And say it had been a semifinal? Then the arguments would have been reverberating for years.
Listen to some football revolutionaries, though, and they'll tell you there's no need for endless pub debates about disputed calls. Video and verification technologies have developed in such a way that it is possible to quickly settle a call one way or the other. If the gizmos that are available had been around years ago, the history of the Cup would surely be very different. The "Hand of God" quite certainly would not have helped Diego Maradona in Argentina's quarterfinal against England in 1986; Geoff Hurst's second goal for England in the 1966 final would probably not have stood; and surely, surely, German goalkeeper Harald Schumacher would have been sent off in the 1982 semifinal against France after an atrocious foul on Patrick Battiston, seen by everyone but the referee. But video replays weren't available and reliable back then. They are now, though. So why aren't they being used in the Cup?
Ask former French defender Frank Leboeuf why what he calls "urgent and available technological solutions" aren't being used to reduce referee error, and his answer is plain: because of the conservatism of football's global governing body — the Fédération Internationale de Football Association (FIFA). Well known for its grip on the organization and evolution of the game, FIFA has dismissed or forestalled a series of recent proposals to enhance refereeing accuracy. Why? Because video consultation, FIFA's officials believe, risks creating long stoppages of play. The resulting loss of fluidity and speed, it is argued, would harm the game more than officiating errors do. Other electronic-verification technologies have yet to be deemed reliable enough. The sole innovation in this Cup is the introduction of wireless devices that allow all four match officials to communicate during action.
FIFA can be accused of many things, but rushing into change isn't one of them. "Human error is part of the human game of football — whether by players or referees," says one unapologetic FIFA official. "When technology has been found to be a foolproof, useful tool for referees that won't detract from play, it will be used. Not before."
That sounds reasonable, but the ferocity with which FIFA and the International Football Association Board (IFAB) — which oversees all questions of the game's rules — hew to their collective line beggars belief. In addition to the purists' reluctance to change, Leboeuf says FIFA's hostility to innovation may also reflect its "fear that surrendering partial control to technology in refereeing could be the first step in FIFA losing complete authority over the game elsewhere."
FIFA has already backtracked on plans to launch a new system at this current World Cup that can determine whether balls have fully crossed goal lines. Developed in part by Adidas, the "Smartball" contains a computer chip that emits a radio signal 2,000 times per second to nearly a dozen antennas around goal areas. That feed is relayed to a computer, which determines the exact position of the ball on the pitch and sends a signal to referees when the ball crosses the line. Granted, the system doesn't seem to be foolproof, but whatever the glitches, FIFA is curiously obdurate in its position. Last October, for example, French football league officials announced that they planned to test video consultation during closed-door games. FIFA nixed the plan. "It's forbidden — the International Board hasn't authorized it," former French footballing great Michel Platini told an international conference after the French plans were revealed. "Anyone who wants to experiment with video will expose themselves to sanctions," said Platini, who is chairman of FIFA's technical committee.
What could be so threatening from video that FIFA would ban closed-door testing of it? "I have no idea — it's incomprehensible," says Frédéric Thiriez, president of the French league. Following Platini's scolding last year, Thiriez made an official presentation to the full IFAB last March, requesting approval to test video. It was rejected. "I understand people might be suspicious of the efficiency or impact of video in football," says Thiriez. "But to prohibit experimentation? It's an insult to human intelligence."
Football's conservatism seems odd given that other sports have embraced video replays. The National Football League in the U.S. began using video in 1986, and has used digital instant replay since 1999. In 1992, video replay was introduced to international cricket and since 2000, video has gradually expanded to international and European Heineken Cup rugby-union games to give referees visual confirmation of questionable tries. Rugby referees have also been equipped with wireless communication units that allow assistants to tip off the man in the middle if he misses something. Tennis has adopted Hawk-Eye technology, which uses multiple digital cameras to track and predict ball trajectories in 3-D. Time was when the tennis, rugby-union and cricket establishments were bywords for conservative, 19th century attitudes to their games. Now it's football — in many respects, the great modern game — that looks set in its ways. If you think that makes sense, you didn't watch Japan vs. Australia in a bar with a bunch of outraged Sydneysiders.
