Report courtesy of your accursed Captain, .

A short history of ridiculous refereeing:

11 August, 1506: During the first known game of bladderball, the “umpyre” penalises a player for “being attired in shorts of insufficient bagginess”. (Note: also the first recorded occurrence of the chant ‘Who’s ye bastarde in ye blacke?’)

21 February, 1823: The referee at Rugby public school fails to punish a player, William Webb Ellis, who picks up the ball and runs with it - thereby missing the opportunity to prevent the invention of the most tedious “sport” in the world.

25 December, 1914: English and German soldiers cautiously emerge from their trenches and, astonishingly, begin a game of football in No-Man’s Land. Unfortunately, a dispute about a foul-throw is poorly dealt with by the linesman, and hostilities resume with the loss of several million more lives.

22 April, 1968: Leeds United are denied the title by a goal scored by West Brom, whose player Colin Suggett is clearly about 20 yards off-side. Barry Davies comments: “And Leeds will go mad! And they have every right to go mad!”

To this pantheon, we must now add 14 November, 2004. The annals, of course, will simply record that Logica lost 2-1 to Supercala in the second round of the Ron Halfacre Challenge Trophy. But to simply read that brutal statistic is to ignore a performance of incompetence, verging on the legendary, from the man in the middle. A man whose name, Radius Reynolds , will live on in the memories of those who witnessed it, as the definitive benchmark of blundering buffoonery.

Speaking of which, had started proceedings with a trademark psychological masterstroke. He had informed his eager squad that this crucial game would kick off at 10.15am – a full 15 minutes after the real start time. He then weaved in a spot of logistical chicanery, ensuring there weren’t sufficient cars at Clapham Junction to ferry his squad to the ground. All of which meant that as the referee’s whistle signalled the start of the game, the Logica side consisted of just seven players, none of whom knew what the formation was and at least one of whom had no idea of any of his team-mates’ names.

Only as the remaining four players wandered into the chaos, still tucking their vests into their pants, did the brilliance of ’s manoeuvre become clear: he was applying Darwinian theory to football formation. And so it was that the vulnerable organism of 11 confused cells quickly adapted themselves into a cohesive tight-knit structure in order to survive the onslaught of the early Cala pressure.

Once everybody had worked out where they were playing, Logica even began to string together a little cohesive football. held the ball up with muscular determination – a trait he demonstrated with great effect for the entire game – and fed inside him from the left channel. The bustling Boro man’s run unnerved the Cala defence – not for the last time during the game - and he rolled a deft ball into the path of , whose low shot to the diving keeper’s right needed an extra few ounces of power to beat him.

Minutes later, ’s own drive from a similar distance had the necessary power but was just too close to the Cala gloveman, who could only parry the fizzing ball away.

In truth, though, these moments of attacking fluency were rather thin on the ground during the first 45 minutes, and Cala had the lion’s share of possession. But despite looking dangerous, they hadn’t seriously troubled in the Logica goal. Perhaps, then, that was why Radius decided to make his first geometrically challenged decision of the day (OK, his second. Pedants will already have noted his inability to apply Law Three by allowing the game to commence with just seven Logica men on the pitch). A hopeful long ball into the Logica box was dealt with once again by debutant , winning a clean header. Yet to the clear bewilderment of everybody on the pitch, the whistle sounded and a penalty was awarded for a mysterious “push”.

Up stepped the Cala number 10. If he was embarrassed by the decision, he didn’t show it and dispatched a firmly struck spot-kick towards the bottom right-hand corner. was ahead of him, though, and it is a measure of how the Logica keeper is viewed by his teammates that none of them showed the least surprise when he pulled off a stunning save to parry the ball away for a corner.

Sadly, his heroics didn’t keep the scores level for long. Minutes later, the tricky right-winger made another of his tormenting runs and – capitalising on a rare piece of indecision by three Logica defenders – pulled the ball back for his striker to sweep home [0-1].

When the half-time whistle sounded, Logica had few complaints about being a goal down, but believed they could play better in the second 45 (actually, the second 40: Radius had informed the captains he would be playing 35 minutes each way because of the late kick-off, but later decided to add another five without informing anyone. Still, he was saving the best for later).

Within two minutes of the restart, Logica were level. A surging run into the box by created all sorts of mayhem, but as he and almost tangled with each other, the momentum seemed lost. Not so. ’s determination was not to be underestimated, and he lashed the loose bouncing ball into the corner [1-1].

It was the fillip that ’s men needed, and heralded a much improved performance. and looked composed and strong at the back, as did full-backs (who had replaced at half time) and . Indeed, apart from one notable exception, Cala made no real threats to the Logica goal. , at right midfield, and on the left, both looked capable of creating mischief, and ’s grip in the centre became increasingly tight.

If only the same could be said of Radius’s grip on reality. The erratic decisions began to come thick and fast: bizarre drop balls, ludicrous corners being awarded, nonsense free-kicks. But his personal moment of triumph was Logica’s despair.

As the ball was played in, the Cala striker attempted to beat . But the new man’s tackle was timed to Moore-esque perfection. He took the ball cleanly and came purposefully away with it, only to find that Radius was once again on a tangent of his own – pointing to the spot.

Logica went mad. And they had every reason to go mad. It was a decision of breathtaking ineptitude, acknowledged by the Cala players’ smirks – and by the unimpressed mandarins watching from the touchline. This time, was beaten by the kick [1-2].

But Logica battled on, fired up by the injustice. And as the minutes ticked on, they came close on a number of occasions. The first was a result of another eliptical Radius decision. A Cala goalkick was met first time by , who cushioned a volleyed pass to , standing a good 10 yards off-side. Astonishingly, Radius waved play on, on the grounds that “you can’t be offside from a goal kick,” only for the disbelieving Logica striker to put his shot just over the bar.

The same player then put in another inswinging corner, dummied at the near post by , which caused a huge scramble in the goalmouth and was cleared off the line by a Cala full-back. Then finished off a fine Logica move with a shot that lashed into the side netting.

The best chance, though, fell with about two minutes left. ’s flicked header saw again racing through. Agonisingly, the ball wouldn’t fall for his favoured left foot in time and the result was more of a looping effort than he would have hoped.

After the whistle blew, the mandarins were spotted pointing out several of Radius’s more ghastly errors to him. (Conspiracy theorists might ask why they were there in the first place – were they aware that his performance might not be up to scratch?). suggested to them he would award the ref an unprecedented zero mark on his match report, but was told he could not.

In true inscrutable style, they informed him that the minimum mark allowed was – of course - four. It was somehow apt that the day should finish with such a nonsensical ruling.