After the match
Mr. Smith is a quiet man. At his work they find him a bit dull. He doesn’t have any friends.
When his wife was still alive, they sometimes went to the cinema or the theatre together. But that’s long ago. Now his only real outing is to his son’s birthday in July. And, of course, there are the Sundays. He loves the Sundays. For 15 years now he has been a referee. Not in professional football. No, he leads the amateurs.
He knows he isn’t very good at it. He makes many mistakes. But he loves it. He likes the smell of grass, the power over the 22 men, and the canteens, which are always full of people. After the match he always has one beer. Then he goes home again. Tired but happy.
This Sunday he hasn’t been very happy. The match between the two teams got out of hand. There were two penalties and he sent two men out. He is glad when the match is over. After a shower he goes to the canteen.
When he comes in, he immediately sees that there is something unusual going on. People are wearing silly clothes and there is loud music. It’s carnival. He walks to the bar and orders a beer. When he looks round he gets a little dizzy. Everybody is laughing and drinking. He is the only one who isn’t dancing. He is going to leave as soon as he has drunk his beer.
‘Hey ref!’, somebody shouts in his ear. ‘Have another one!’, and a beer is put in his hand.
It is one for the men he has sent out. He is dressed as a clown. His clothes are wet with sweat. ‘Let’s forget the whole thing, ref!’, the man shouts, and slaps him on the back. “o.k.”, says Mr. Smith.
He drinks his beer, and slowly starts to walks towards the door. But he can’t reach it. All these dancing people! And that music!
Suddenly he is in the middle of the dancing crowd. Some girls put their arms around him. They laugh, and he begins to smile. ‘I must go home!’, he shouts, but they just laugh and begin to take off his coat. He knows he looks silly in his clothes. Where is his hat? Another beer for him, and then…he begins to dance. He can’t help it. And he can’t stop anymore. He waves with his hands in the air and dances and shouts with the crowd. He begins to sing. Some men lift him up. He knows their faces. That afternoon they were angry with him, nut now they carry him through the canteen and give him more beer. He gets dizzy again, but he doesn’t mind. He has never had such a good time in his life! He sings and dances for hours, until the music stops and the lights go on. It’s late. People are beginning to go home. He sits down. He is so tired. His hat is on the floor, wet and dirty. But where is his coat? “
‘Hey ref! Time to go home!’, somebody says, ‘Come back next year! But leave your whistle at home, will you! You’re a better dancer!’
Mr. Smith smiles. He can’t believe he has let himself go like this. But he has liked it.
He finds his coat under a table. A girl walks to the door with him and gives him two kisses. ‘Next time put on some other clothes. That’s more fun’, she says. He goes out. It is raining hard. He stands still, looks up, and jumps into the air as high as he can. Then he goes home.
When his wife was still alive, they sometimes went to the cinema or the theatre together. But that’s long ago. Now his only real outing is to his son’s birthday in July. And, of course, there are the Sundays. He loves the Sundays. For 15 years now he has been a referee. Not in professional football. No, he leads the amateurs.
He knows he isn’t very good at it. He makes many mistakes. But he loves it. He likes the smell of grass, the power over the 22 men, and the canteens, which are always full of people. After the match he always has one beer. Then he goes home again. Tired but happy.
This Sunday he hasn’t been very happy. The match between the two teams got out of hand. There were two penalties and he sent two men out. He is glad when the match is over. After a shower he goes to the canteen.
When he comes in, he immediately sees that there is something unusual going on. People are wearing silly clothes and there is loud music. It’s carnival. He walks to the bar and orders a beer. When he looks round he gets a little dizzy. Everybody is laughing and drinking. He is the only one who isn’t dancing. He is going to leave as soon as he has drunk his beer.
‘Hey ref!’, somebody shouts in his ear. ‘Have another one!’, and a beer is put in his hand.
It is one for the men he has sent out. He is dressed as a clown. His clothes are wet with sweat. ‘Let’s forget the whole thing, ref!’, the man shouts, and slaps him on the back. “o.k.”, says Mr. Smith.
He drinks his beer, and slowly starts to walks towards the door. But he can’t reach it. All these dancing people! And that music!
Suddenly he is in the middle of the dancing crowd. Some girls put their arms around him. They laugh, and he begins to smile. ‘I must go home!’, he shouts, but they just laugh and begin to take off his coat. He knows he looks silly in his clothes. Where is his hat? Another beer for him, and then…he begins to dance. He can’t help it. And he can’t stop anymore. He waves with his hands in the air and dances and shouts with the crowd. He begins to sing. Some men lift him up. He knows their faces. That afternoon they were angry with him, nut now they carry him through the canteen and give him more beer. He gets dizzy again, but he doesn’t mind. He has never had such a good time in his life! He sings and dances for hours, until the music stops and the lights go on. It’s late. People are beginning to go home. He sits down. He is so tired. His hat is on the floor, wet and dirty. But where is his coat? “
‘Hey ref! Time to go home!’, somebody says, ‘Come back next year! But leave your whistle at home, will you! You’re a better dancer!’
Mr. Smith smiles. He can’t believe he has let himself go like this. But he has liked it.
He finds his coat under a table. A girl walks to the door with him and gives him two kisses. ‘Next time put on some other clothes. That’s more fun’, she says. He goes out. It is raining hard. He stands still, looks up, and jumps into the air as high as he can. Then he goes home.