I don’t like that many films, but the ones I do like, I tend to really like.

Along with the goofball nature of Dumb & Dumber and the bleakly compelling quality of Trainspotting, I do enjoy the feel-good battle against the odds presented by Cool Runnings.

In case you weren’t aware, it’s a fictionalised version of Jamaica’s efforts to compete in the four-man bobsled at the 1988 Winter Olympics. I always get a right craic out of the scene where the coach, played by John Candy, shows a “how-to” video to a gang of hopefuls. Due to the dangerous nature of what’s being shown by the projector, the room has almost emptied. It reminds me of the time our club held an information night for prospective referees – except there was no need to show a video beforehand.

For years, the main ref in our club was Jerry Cummins, but two decades of thankless service had left him disenchanted. Things eventually came to a head one Sunday morning when he took charge of an intermediate league match.

You’d think that impartiality would be one of the main prerequisites for being a match official

With about 10 minutes to go, the running commentary of one particularly loud patron became too much and Jerry calmly walked off the field and out the gate by the dugout, handing his whistle to the offending party. “There you go,” he said, “it’s easy enough, really.” Funnily enough, the motor-mouth’s son is now a referee himself.

You’d think that impartiality would be one of the main prerequisites for being a match official, but – hold on to your hats – there have been examples of guys who have used their roles to settle scores. One fella, when doing the line, had a subtle one where he’d point the flag a lot quicker in favour of the team he secretly wanted to win, whereas the power in his arms would disappear when he was supposed to award the sideline to the team he disliked, allowing the opposition to get back in numbers.

We had another, who operated as an umpire, and, if he didn’t like the defending team, he would award 45s despite the ball going wide. “Don’t be modest, gasúr,” he’d say to the protesting goalkeeper, “sure that was a brilliant save.”

I got roped in as umpire a couple of times, including the occasion when Jerry refereed an inter-county challenge match for the opening of the new pitch at Rockfort. The back-up goalkeeper was being given his go and he was very keen to show he looked the part, but the image was ruined when he conceded a soft early goal. “I couldn’t do much with that,” he said to me, trying to save face. “I could do even less,” I replied.

He started refereeing this year and showed himself to be well on top of the rules, which came as a surprise given that, during his playing career, he took an à la carte approach

All of which brings us to the one survivor from that above-mentioned information night, Paudie Young. He started refereeing this year and showed himself to be well on top of the rules, which came as a surprise given that, during his playing career, he took an à la carte approach and once even knocked the toupée off the head of a ref who red-carded him in a challenge match.

With so many championship games on in a short space of time this year, Paudie was given championship matches and – notable with his big lime-green whistle – acquitted himself well, to the extent that he was awarded one of the junior semi-finals, Lissanisky v Monarone, last week.

An unremarkable game was going the way of Lissanisky but, with seven or eight minutes left, Paudie had to black-card their goalkeeper when he came charging miles out of the goal to haul down an attacker who was through.

One of the forwards went in goal for the remainder and they looked to have held out, leading by two points in injury time. Monarone sent a final ball goalwards, but the stand-in keeper parried the ball and dived on it in the small rectangle. When Paudie blew for a penalty, those of us watching the stream thought there’d be mayhem as he was surrounded by apoplectic Lissanisky players but the penalty stood and Monarone got a match-winning goal.

You can use common sense or use the rulebook

Had there been a bigger crowd there, he’d have been a lamb to the slaughter but the Lissanisky secretary managed to calm his colleagues down by pointing out that Paudie was right – because the new goalkeeper hadn’t put on a distinctively coloured top, he wasn’t entitled to the privileges afforded a number one, including picking off the ground in the square.

Paudie was apologetic, but firm. “You can use common sense or use the rulebook,” he said, “and the assessors don’t reward common sense.”

Lissanisky had to accept that the ruling was right, but they still weren’t overly happy. “That whistle looks like a baby’s dummy in your mouth,” was one of the few printable replies.