The secret lives of referees: ‘Nerdy’ Premier League refs have nearly come to blows, celebration with younger girls on boozy journeys, love a tattoo – and there is extra who do not like Jurgen Klopp!

When Mark Clattenburg quit the Premier League in 2017, it was in part motivated by frustration at the dehumanisation of his profession.

We wanted — indeed, want — our referees to be robots, one step removed from our being, especially in an age of VAR. Free-kick. Corner. Yellow card. Red card. Go home, plug themselves in and return fully charged the next time.

The referees’ bosses, the PGMOL, do not help by gagging their officials. Referees are to be seen and abused, but never heard.

You could say that is wise given David Coote‘s spoken entry to the world this week has been to call Jurgen Klopp a ‘German ****’, in a video circulated on social media leading to his suspension by the PGMOL.

But referees are human. If we accepted and embraced that, the divide between us and them would not feel so great. Coote was stupid and caused damage for his own colleagues on so many levels. But he was also likely drunk (that is his best defence) and expressing an opinion among mates after what is believed to have been a night in a casino. We have all been there and, thankfully, not always in front of a camera phone.

The word Clattenburg used when he broke free was ‘relief’. Relief that the public could judge him for what he was, rather than the pantomime villain portrayed by the media. To dehumanise the subject of our derision makes us feel better — it’s OK, it’s only a referee. 

When Clattenburg was at the top of his trade in the Premier League, he was out with his wife on Newcastle’s Quayside one sunny Bank Holiday afternoon. He was called over by a group of lads on a nearby table which, given he once had a pie thrown at his head at Cheltenham races, he was never quite sure of the intention. 

Half an hour later — and with his wife increasingly bored — he was still chatting to them about football. There was surprise and gratitude on both sides of the conversation.

So, who are referees? Clattenburg is a Newcastle supporter and dad of two who loves a game of golf, a laugh and a beer (and a tattoo). Mike Dean is a Tranmere fan who instigates terrace chants and is said to be the life and soul of any social occasion.

I went to university with another former Premier League official. A great lad. He also got a tattoo one weekend on the say-so of the most sought-after girl on campus. Human, you see. Come Monday, she was no longer interested. We’re still laughing about that 20 years later.

Recently, I was on a flight with Coote, of all people, on his way to officiate a Champions League fixture as part of Stuart Attwell’s team. It was not long after Attwell was caught up in the Nottingham Forest saga in which the club accused him of being biased against them because he supported Luton, their relegation rivals. 

They were normal lads — a little bit nerdy, maybe — but they found great humour in a newspaper comic strip depicting them and their colleagues. Again, though, the cartoonist thought these guys were fair game for taking the p***. At least they could laugh at it.

Michael Oliver is also a Newcastle fan. He gets to as many games as possible and was in the away end at Paris Saint-Germain last season when, like the rest of his fellow Geordies, they berated the officials for giving the hosts a controversial last-minute penalty in a 1-1 draw. 

He likes a beer with his dad before home matches and enjoys his golf, too. He goes to the gym and lifts weights, and who would have thought a robot needed to work out? 

Clattenburg used his muscle the night he had a showdown with Mike Riley in a San Siro dressing room. Riley had accused Clattenburg of taking his speakers as part of a prank — he hadn’t — and emptied the contents of his bag on the floor as he searched for them.

When Clattenburg, the fourth official, returned before kick-off, he confronted Riley and let it be known what would happen if his belongings weren’t returned to his bag. ‘I’ll f***ing clip you,’ he said. It is the sort of squabble you’ll see in workplaces up and down the country.

Coote, meanwhile, was among a group of officials pictured partying with young women during a golf event in Indonesia in 2019, and stories of nights out are as rife in the refereeing world as they are in the world we perceive to be ‘ordinary’. Turns out, there isn’t any difference between the two.

Clattenburg used diplomacy to stop an Everton fan thumping Lee Mason in a bar after a Champions League game in Malaga. Mason was getting chirpy by all accounts — saying Liverpool were the best team on Merseyside — but rather than resort to violence, the aggrieved Evertonian agreed to lace his drink with spirits by way of retribution.

Mason nearly missed his flight the next day but he, like Dean, is said to be riotous company.

So, they don’t just go home and wait for the next game. They are human, with likes, dislikes, strengths and weaknesses. That does not excuse Coote’s extremely foolish and crass behaviour, but it helps explain it. There but for the grace of God go I, some might say.

When I helped Clattenburg write his autobiography in 2021, there was a passage that stuck with me, and it formed the opening of the book.

‘I am Mark Clattenburg,’ he began. ‘To some of you, I will be an arrogant p***k. To even more of you, I’m the bloke who has cost your team points. You might be right on that score. But I am rarely anything other than the fella in black who was up his own backside. That was me. The world knew exactly what I was. But no one ever heard my side. 

‘Only when I quit the Premier League was I able to present myself in the media. I do not expect everyone to say, ‘Oh, isn’t he a great guy?’. Not at all. You might still dislike me, just for different reasons. That is fine. But dislike me for who I really am.’

I spent a few days with Clattenburg at his home in Spain earlier this year. We played pool past midnight while watching football on TV. We no doubt spoke about Klopp — Clattenburg never liked him, either — but at no point did we record his views, especially not five Estrellas in.

We did make one video for my kids, when Clattenburg — now the referee on TV show Gladiators — screamed down the camera, ‘Contender, ready! Three, two, one, go!’, and how they enjoyed waking up to that the next morning. It is for moments of such appreciation that Clattenburg quit the Premier League, to feel humanised.

If anything, Coote’s indiscretion has shown him to be normal. With his career on the line, he will be feeling very human and very vulnerable right now. They are not robots, and we should try harder to remember that. Maybe then Coote would not feel moved to react in the way he did.