Mark Clattenburg employs scorched-earth policy
When Mark Clattenburg accepted Nottingham Forest's proposal to become the first ever Referee Analyst for a Premier League team this February, he probably thought he was on his way to a cushy feet-up, semi-retirement, part -time gig.
If he had, however, done his checks and balances — or even just a quick Google — he would have known that the combination of Evangelos Marinakis' distinct brand of ownership and a Nuno backline deeper than the Titanic meant there was always a chance for this to get ugly.
And so it was on Sunday afternoon, that, in the wake of Everton's 2-0 victory over The Reds, the white-sanded-Greek-Island picture Marinakis had sold him turned into something more closely resembling Thermopylae.
As an ex-professional referee — 2012 Olympics final, 2016 FA Cup final, 2016 Champions League final, Euro 2016 final — Clattenburg was put in a tough position when the Nottingham Forest social accounts released a "statement" effectively accusing the VAR, Stuart Attwell, of being a fan of Luton Town FC, their primary foe in the race to avoid the ignominy of relegation.
One can only assume Clattenburg, profoundly aware of the "what the f*** does a Referee Analyst do" discourse upon his appointment, did not want to miss this opportunity to prove his worth. And so, this morning, he used his weekly column in The Daily Mail to double down on the club's assertion.
In an industry as small as that of professional game match officials, it was striking to see Clattenburg choose the scorched-earth policy, swinging wildly as he went down.
"One of these errors would have been bad enough. Three was a joke"
"they have had to endure some egregious refereeing"
"It was a hat-trick of howlers from the refereeing team"
"a continuation of an unjust trend"
"it was not appropriate for a Luton fan such as Attwell to play such a pivotal role in a massive match"
"this was mind-boggling to watch"
"Why Attwell did not send Taylor to his screen, only he will know"
Perhaps he is already angling for a dream transfer north up the A19 to Blyth.