So VAR – not so good.

You’ll remember the scene well.

The sweat on your shirt clings to your back and feels cold and clammy; the school, shoes you promised not to wear are scuffed and muddy. Though you tell yourself you’ll be able to shift the green stains from the knees of your school trousers, you know in your heart your goose is cooked with them as well. Your feet are hot and sweaty and your socks have slipped down under your heels making you feel uncomfortable. Looking around, you see that the lights are coming on in surrounding houses and shining brightly in the gloom. Checking your watch, you realise you are twenty minutes late for the time you said you would be home.

Yep – playing football “down the field” as a lad was great fun, though also fraught with the danger of parental disapproval.

But what’s this?

The ball lies still and forgotten behind one of the goals. Instead of running about daft, making footballer shapes, and generally enjoying the game, there are twenty to thirty boys, all stood still, shouting at each other. Hands are on hips, heads are shaking, fingers are pointing.

In the nearest goal, for some reason, one of the guys is carefully rearranging piles of clothing.

“Coats for goalposts” was one of the staples of our football education, alongside “three and in” and “attack and d”. Whether the ball had passed “between the posts” had long been a source of dispute in the game – after all it was the reason for the introduction of a rope and then a crossbar, and eventually goal nets.

But there are two important things to remember about those games of our childhood. Firstly, nobody ever refused to come back the next day because there were disputes about goals or handballs or tackles – it was accepted that was part of the game. Secondly, there were no spectators nor, despite parents’ best efforts, was there a definitive time by which the game should be finished. Whilst the arguments could become heated, they were seen as part of the game rather than an interruption. There was an acceptance by everyone that “the truth might be out there” but it wasn’t necessarily attainable. Goal mouth scrambles, guys searching for their jackets, goal line clearances, and sometimes even duplicitous keepers, meant that the goalpost coats had a habit of shifting, widening, narrowing or expanding. There were guys more adept at folding and refolding the garments than any mammy down at the local steamie.

But, of course, there is a lot more at stake in today’s professional game – billions of pounds of advertising, contracts, television rights and betting company profits. It was probably inevitable that someone would look at sport in general and decree that leaving results to chance and fortune as well as skill – for many the whole point of sport’s addictive unpredictability – was no longer acceptable.

And, given the age we live in, how better to solve this ‘problem’ than with computer technology?

It’s a display of digital technology at its best – detailed views from many angles and the ability to fast forward or slow mo as necessary. It can be viewed in a remote location and also in the comfort of your own home.

There is much to recommend the new Video Aided Referee (VAR) technology – so we should welcome it as a furthering of global footballs’ progress into modern times.

Well, mebbes aye, mebbes no.

Perhaps we should look at the reasons for its introduction, its application in other sports, and its initial impact on recent tournaments.

There has always been a quarrelsome reaction to those who police the rules in sport. Those who play and watch sport are by their nature competitive. It is important to them that they win and anything they feel that is impeding their chances of victory is going to produce a major reaction from them. Referees have probably been advised to “Get a pair of specs” since opticians  first invented eye glasses.

Perhaps the interesting word there is “feel”, because there is nothing more subjective than a player or supporter’s take  on a piece of play which may or may not have infringed the rules of the game. That’s the reasons all sports have referees, umpires or officials to adjudicate on whether rules are being kept or broken. And to  go back to the childhood games analogy, the need for referees in games with spectators was seen as necessary so that kind of  “pause for discussion’ was eliminated.

However, some games “flow” more than others. Tennis and cricket both “change ends” frequently, for instance, but football is based on more or less continuous play. Part of its visceral excitement is in the instant reaction to a goal, a tackle, or a piece of magic. As we’ve seen in recent tournaments, “halting and rewinding” the play while VAR is consulted interrupts the momentum and can often hand an advantage to one side or the other. The sight of spectators unsure whether or not they can celebrate is graphic evidence of the problem. Sure, we’ve all looked at the linesman after a  goal to check for an offside decision, but that is the act of a moment. Waiting for a “considered decision” can take minutes and kill the moment. It is a construct which fits television needs far more than those of the live audience.

In tennis and cricket, the use of “hawkeye” is far less contentious. The reviews fit into the natural start and stop rhythm of the game and, crucially, they eliminate human judgement – surely the intended result of digital interference in sport. The snick on the bat,  the line of the ball, or the position of the foot or bat – these are all factual and the replayed and frozen pictures confirm position. In tennis, the position of the ball adjacent to the line is also clear.

For this reason, goal line technology – instant and irrefutable – is a comfortable fit for football, but replays of handballs and tackles ultimately come down to the same thing as live action: what does the referee think? Is it worth the interruption to the play to allow a referee a second or third or fourth look at an incident?

Instant reaction is an important part of all sport. In our quest to make it “perfect” and to minimise human frailty, should we now give a striker a second chance to connect with an accurate centre, or a goalie a second chance to collect a fierce shot?

We are now in a position where pundits opine on the referee’s reading of VAR as well as  his original decision. We are no further forward – except the broadcasters have more content to dispute and the bookies have better chances to limit their payouts. Neither of these are crucial or even important to the game as a sport – they are addressing the needs of those who live off the sport.

In a lifetime of watching live football, and other sports, I have accepted that the referee’s decision is final. That’s why hectoring an official and putting pressure on him is such a distasteful element in professional sport. If the ref thinks it’s a goal, if the umpire thinks it’s a wicket – then that’s part of the rules of the game. If they think otherwise, it’s not a goal and not a wicket.

Of course it’s frustrating – for fans as well as players. They may feel financially cheated – fans of their entrance money, players of their win bonus. But we entered into our love for sport fully aware that there would be errors by players and officials – sometimes leading to ridiculous results or monstrous injustices. But that is sport – that is what feeds our passion.

“How did he miss that?” is the cry at every sports ground on a regular basis. If he never missed, what would be the point, where would be the excitement?

And, I’m afraid, that has to apply to officials as well as to players.

We are not robots and we shouldn’t want sport organised as if we were.

Sport is about humanity in all its glorious frailties and unpredictability, as well as its skills and talents – let’s enjoy it for what it is – anger and frustration, joy and relief – in more or less equal portions.

It really does not exist to make rich men richer – or it shouldn’t!