After two days spent hoping their fully justified appeals for fairness would be heeded, Shabab Al Ahli heard the verdict. Case dismissed.
Let’s get this straight: the Dubai-based club had been victims of one of the most egregious refereeing injustices imaginable.
They had been 1-0 down deep into stoppage time against Machida Zelvia on Tuesday night when Guilherme Bala smashed in a thrilling equaliser.
It was the first time the remarkable Japanese club’s defences had been breached in 360 minutes of knockout football in this year’s AFC Champions League Elite.
Extra time, and a chance to push for a place in Saturday’s final against mighty Al Ahli Saudi, beckoned. They had earned it.
Then the match officials decided to review … a substitution. Yep. A substitution.
Shaun Evans, the referee, went over to the monitor and adjudged that the throw-in that restarted play had taken place a fraction of a second before Machida had completed a substitution. So, his fault, then.
Yes, all VAR decisions correct referee errors. That is the point. But they ultimately penalise infractions by one team or the other.
On this occasion, it was all on the referee. He had permitted play to restart, with the throw-in leaving the player’s hands just before the player had left the field of play. It was so close that they had to freeze frame precisely when the ball had been released.
So what? Are we really going to reassess every situation like that from now on? When a replaced player goes off on the other side of the field to where a substitute comes on, are we going to have split-screen replays to make sure they crossed the lines at the appropriate moment?
There are so many artificial delays in the game now anyway because of the odious VAR system, why penalise teams for doing their best to keep the game moving? A quick game is a good game, in any language.
No wonder the players were furious at the final whistle. As they surrounded the referee and worked themselves into a frenzy, some even had to stand in front of the official to create a shield from the angriest ones.
At least it gave the hapless Evans a belated chance to show off his card-brandishing technique again.
It is something the Australian official appears to relish, adopting a stance like Cristiano Ronaldo readying himself for a free-kick before hoisting his arm in the air, Statue of Liberty style.
In his remarkably poised press conference after the game, Paulo Sousa, the Shabab Al Ahli coach, seemed to be taken off-guard by a question about whether there was a legal process for his side to protest the decision. He suggested it was unlikely.
Sousa is used to the European system, where you can be wronged by a referee, complain about it until the end of time, and still nothing will be done about it. You’ve had your heart broken? Deal with it.
But, Paulo, this is Asian football. You’re not dead forever. To quote Lloyd Christmas: “So you’re telling me there’s a chance?”
His club’s administration promptly put in their formal complaint. The UAE Football Association threw their weight behind it, saying they stood in solidarity with a club that had been victims of injustice.
Shabab Al Ahli stayed in Jeddah, and requested the game be replayed. For a while it seemed like it might just be possible, too, with a five-person panel set to consider the case, including listening to the audio of the conversation between the match officials.
Then the inevitable happened: the case was thrown out.
It was always going to be. The pertinent part of Article 60 – the clause in the tournament regulations governing protests – says it all.
“No protest shall be lodged relating to the referee's decisions regarding facts connected with play,” the regulation states.
“Such decisions are final and binding and not subject to appeal, unless otherwise stipulated in the AFC disciplinary and ethics code.
“The same applies to any potential issue concerning the use and/or operation of any goal-line technology and/or video assistant referee system.”
And this is the crux of it all. Overturning a referee’s error – no matter how shocking it is – after the event, and permitting a replay, is a precedent football just could not cope with.
Where would it stop? Later the same day, Saudi Arabia’s Shabab Club were beaten by Al Rayyan, of Qatar in another match littered by refereeing controversies.
The club released a strongly worded statement decrying the injustice of it all. Fans and neutral observers screamed travesty and bias. But Shabab, like their near namesake from Dubai, just had to deal with it. Demanding a replay to right the wrongs is a futile exercise.
Standing up for their rights had been a costly exercise for Shabab Al Ahli. They had to pay a $1,000 non-refundable fee just to lodge their protest with the Asian Football Confederation.
Then there were the extra days’ hotel fees for waiting around in Jeddah. Presumably some legal costs, too.
And they would be at least $3.4 million lighter in prize money. When their exit at the semi-final was confirmed, it meant Shabab Al Ahli would have to settle for $600,000 for their efforts. The runners-up in Saturday’s final will make $4 million, and the winners $10m.
But, as the manager of Kawasaki Frontale, last year’s defeated finalists, said, football is not about wallets and credit cards. It is about glory.
And Shabab Al Ahli have been denied a shot at theirs. It might have been the last chance many of them will get to play in what might have been the biggest game of their careers.
Sousa has had a transformative effect on the club. But in his management career to date, he has generally had itchy feet: he does not stay anywhere past two years.
This is his second season with them and, and as outstanding as they have been, they seem likely to end the campaign trophyless. If that is the case, then it will be harsh, particularly in light of their demise in Jeddah.
But that is football, a sport which does not have time for justice.






