For Martin Hansson and his team of officials, the enormity of the failure to spot Thierry Henry's handball in the 2009 World Cup play-off arrived a little over five minutes after reaching the sanctity of the Paris dressing room that fateful November night. Under normal circumstances, the referee observer would be in immediately to address the team, but on that dramatic night in Saint-Denis, there was a noticeable delay. Eventually when the FIFA official did arrive, Hansson was told his team enjoyed a fine night up to the point where William Gallas scored in extra-time, with the extra-time 1-1 draw enough to send Raymond Domenech's side through. The only blemish on the copybook, and it was a significant blot, was the failure to spot Henry's handball in the lead-up to the decisive goal. It shouldn't have stood. "I broke down completely. At that moment everything felt helpless," he admitted in the Swedish documentary Rättskiparen (The Referee) released the following year. And helpless is perhaps the key word. Officials stationed on the goal line had yet to be fully rolled out, while goal line technology and video assistant referees (VAR) were still some years away. FIFA reluctantly backed Hansson. His positioning for the incident was not deemed to be incorrect and he was selected for the 2010 World Cup, but tellingly was never given a game. The Swede would retire as a professional referee in 2013, but it marked the end of his career at the elite level.
In 2009, the Swedish FA broke new ground by appointing five full-time referees for the first time. Former professional player and now documentary maker Mattias Löw took a particular interest in one of the officials. Martin Hansson had been involved in a couple of controversial moments – death threats courtesy of irate Atletico Madrid fans in 2008 after awarding Liverpool an injury-time penalty to salvage a draw in the Champions League and he was criticized for failing to award Brazil a goal in the 2009 Confederations Cup final when the ball had crossed the line – and Löw decided to follow the 38-year-old for the year. "I almost expected something to happen with Martin," he tells RTE Sport 10 years later. The documentary is revealing. Hansson, who had divorced from his wife in 2008 and saw his kids every second week, outlined what football meant in his life. "I had to choose between family, football and work. Football always comes first," he said. "When you are a referee on this level of football, football controls your life completely." While the positioning of the linesman, rather than where Hansson was standing, was arguably a bigger factor in failing to blow the whistle, the burden of responsibility seemed to lie with the Swede. Certainly the majority of the abuse landed on his front door. In a frank and somber exchange, the documentary shows Hansson speaking to Low the next day to discuss the incident. "The phone call was the dramatic moment of the documentary," Löw says today. "Everything led up to that. His career ended with that match, even if the World Cup appeared to prolong it."
Damien Duff was among the many on the pitch who saw Henry control the ball by foul means. "He handled it twice, but I saw one of the moments clearly. I didn't need a replay," he says, remembering how the players huddled around team analyst Brian McCarthy's laptop in the dressing-room in disbelief. A bit like France themselves, Hansson's World Cup dream was largely underwhelming. Les Bleus were sent packing at the group stages without winning a game, Hansson was deemed fit to only operate in the capacity as a fourth official. He returned to home and operated in the domestic league before hanging up the whistle. Duff remains philosophical about the subsequent downward spiral in Hansson's career. "That's life," he offers. "That could happen in any job. In football any decision can lead to a crossroads in your career." All of that of course is of little consolation to Hansson, who bowed out as a full-time referee in 2013 to return to be a full-time firefighter in southern Sweden. "He's the perfect firefighter," says Löw. "There was something about him, he was so structured and so organized. He was always ready to throw himself into a challenge. He'd be the kind of person who would save others before he'd save himself. He's a guy you'd want in a situation if you were in trouble."
