The good days make it all worthwhile for dedicated referees

Remember the old Ron Atkinson quote? "I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I would never comment on a referee's performance and I'm not going to change the habit of a lifetime for that prat." Well, Paul McKeon, one of four Republic of Ireland referees on the FIFA list, has heard it all before (and much worse) but, fortunately for him, he has ownership of a thick skin.

He knows football supporters are only united by one thing, their common exasperation at referees' apparent collective impaired vision, innate inclination towards making dodgy decisions, bewilderingly unfathomable inconsistency, abject ignorance of the offside rule and absolute determination to ruin their lives. His message, though, is "we're human too", a contention most football supporters doubt.

After five years refereeing in junior football and about to start his 10th season in the National League McKeon, a native of Templeogue in Dublin, has lost count of the number of times his parentage has been called into question, not to mention all the other flavoursome abuse that's been heaped on him. He insists, though, that if you can survive the experience of refereeing a match involving children, the National League and beyond is a tea party.

"Some of the things the mothers and fathers would say to you in kids' football you couldn't repeat - that's where you lose so many referees, fellas who just can't take criticism or whatever abuse is thrown at them.

To be honest if you can survive the mothers and fathers you can survive anything, but you really do need restraint to be able to take it." And that's where it all started for McKeon, having to worry more about frenzied parents on the sidelines than their footballing children on the pitch. At 27 he damaged his shoulder in a motorbike crash, an injury that prompted him to hang up his Junior football boots. Keen to stay fit, though, he took up refereeing and, now 42, it's been at the centre of his life ever since.

"I love the refereeing," he says, "it just gets into your blood. You get a great amount of pleasure out of it, you get to keep fit and make friends all over the world. I write to referees in Italy and Poland, for example, fellas I've met on my travels and when they come to Dublin we meet up and have a jar. It's a good life, tough but very enjoyable." Tough is the word. Self-employed McKeon starts work at around seven in the morning, collecting 'confidential waste' from banks and sundry institutions, finishing up around four in the afternoon. If he has an evening match to referee (as he will next Friday when Shelbourne and St Patrick's Athletic meet) it's usually 10.30 by the time he's home, midnight or one in the morning if the match is outside Dublin.

"When you referee a game you're coming from a day's work, one that might, have started at seven that morning, so it's a long day - that's something that most people don't realise. If it's a 7.45 kick-off you're there at 6.15 to make sure everything is okay and it's after 10 when you're going home.

At the end of a day like that you're shattered."

"We have to be as fit as the players, we're training three, four times a week, taking half-days' off work to fit in some games. We do it because we want to do it, because we enjoy it, but I don't think everyone understands what we put in to it."

"Yeah, you get a lot of abuse because the managers, players and supporters are so passionate about the game but, in fairness, 99 per cent of the National League managers don't hold grudges - they might throw a few comments your way through the game but half an hour afterwards things are forgotten about."

"We are only human, we're not robots, we do make mistakes, but by and large people accept that. You only have a split second to make a crucial decision and you do it honestly, you make it as you see it - you don't have a chance to look at a replay, you have to stand by the decision you make."

"With television cameras all over the place these days every little error is highlighted so that doesn't really help - and some television pundits don't make any allowances for referees, they don't understand that you only have a split second to make your decision. The supporters are the same.

They only see things through their own team's eyes - if their team wears red they only see red."

The abuse? "Yeah, you get some guys who'll make a few nasty comments to you but you learn to live with that after a while. To referee at National League and international level you have to have a calm approach to the game - when managers and players are losing their heads a bit you have to stay calm, you have to stay relaxed and make sure you make the right decision in a heated situation."

McKeon made the FIFA list in 1999 and along with Hugh Byrne, John Feighery and John McDermott makes up a four-man Republic of Ireland representation at international level.

"I never expected to make it that far but I've loved every minute of it. My first match was an under-18 game between Portugal and Slovakia, then I was involved in the World Student Games in Majorca, and after that there were under-21 games between France and Poland, Hungary and Lithuania. No language barrier whatsoever because all these fellas speak English, it's incredible."

What makes it all worthwhile for McKeon are nights like the one he experienced at Parkhead two summers ago, when he refereed Celtic's UEFA Cup qualifier against Welsh side Cwmbran Town.

"It was probably the highlight of my career," he says. "Talk about passionate supporters - there were 57,000 at that game even though Celtic had easily won the first leg (6-0). When we were walking off the pitch at the end John Ward, one of my assistant referees, took my arm and said 'take your time, we'll never experience the likes of this again'. He was right.

That was a great buzz, really brilliant. When Ireland play Holland next month there'll only be 33,000 at the game, that night it was 57,000.

Fantastic. I'll never forget it" Almost enough to obliterate memories of the invective dished out by those kids' mothers and fathers, the ones who make your average National League manager and player seem like a mere pussycat to the likes of Paul McKeon.