When VAR Gets the Wrong Pitch: A Football Analysis Defaults to the 'Makkah Defence Alliance' Story

I have just accepted a seemingly ordinary task: analyze an article about a transfer, a team, or a match. But when I opened the file, the first thing I saw was: “Makkah Defence Alliance: first SG to be from Pakistan”. I smiled. A 54-year-old referee like me has officiated many leagues, but I have never seen a “defender” wearing a military alliance jersey. VAR is not wrong. What is wrong is the way we believe it can replace a night when a referee makes a mistake. The context of this story is not on the pitch. It is at the conference table, where the foreign and defence ministers of Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, and Türkiye sit together. They are turning a political agreement into a permanent institution. If you have never heard of the Makkah Defence Alliance, I am not surprised. The name seems unfamiliar to someone who only follows the Bundesliga. Yet it is what is being labeled as “football” in an automated analysis system. This story begins with a process many newsrooms still use: feeding all news items into a “template” for sports analysis. Each article is labeled “football” without questioning whether the content is actually about the round ball. The result is that machines try to find “tactics” in a joint statement on regional security, or “players” in a list of military chiefs. When Article 17 is on the judge's table, I remember the way Neymar stepped over the law without looking down at his feet – but here, no one steps over; people just enter a different corridor. The analysis I was given has drawn an important conclusion: this article should not be processed with a football analysis framework. Sections like “Tactical & Technical” or “Club Finance” are all N/A. There are no formations, no transfers, no xG. Instead, we see names of Foreign Ministers Ishaq Dar and Khawaja Asif, Chief of Army Staff Asim Munir, and Prince Khalid bin Salman. This is a diplomatic play, not a derby. But the most interesting part is: when a system designed for one domain tries to analyze another, it can create nonsense in a very serious manner. I remember reading a report from a major media company boasting that their AI could detect “tactical trends” in every sports article. But that AI did not know that “defence” in a military context is not a low-block style. This error is not the AI's fault, but that of the people operating it. I once wrote in an expert column: “VAR is not wrong. What is wrong is the way we believe it can replace a night when a referee makes a mistake.” By the same logic: technology is not stupid, but if we force it to analyze a diplomatic meeting like a football match, the error is ours. Look at the analysis itself. The first three parts – tactics, finance, and sporting results – are all marked “N/A”. That is not just a blank. It is a warning. Transfer fee numbers are nowhere to be found, injuries do not exist. It is like a match without a ball. The referee can run around the pitch, but how can he blow the whistle when no one scores? The fourth section of the framework is the “league landscape”. Here, instead of a league, we have a military alliance among three countries. Saudi Arabia is the host, Pakistan provides the first Secretary General. Türkiye is a founding member. If we force it into a football frame, I would have to say that Saudi Arabia is “promoted”, Pakistan is “acquiring a quality new signing”. But in reality, this is about a balance of power in the Middle East. When we confuse fields, we are not just wrong professionally; we create dangerous information. The fifth section on rules and governance could be compared to FIFA regulations. But a defence pact is not a league's rulebook. I have refereed long enough to know that each match has its own rules, but football rules cannot be applied to a war. When an AI system tries to check whether an article complies with “financial fair play”, it finds nothing. But it may turn itself into a joke. I remember a phrase I often use when analyzing controversial situations: “A referee has no party. A referee only has the rules.” But here, the rules are overridden by something else: the bias of algorithms. The AI was taught that every international article could be related to football if it appears in a sports section. That is a perceptual error, not a technical one. I look back at the “deep analysis” that was sent. It lists nine dimensions, from tactics to media, and most are N/A. But one notable section – the first one, “Tactical & Technical Analysis” – although N/A, is carefully composed. It says the article has no football content and warns that the mislabeling of “Football” is a risk. That makes me think: even a non-living machine can recognize absurdity, but humans ignore it to follow publishing schedules. My story in sports journalism taught me that small details that are often overlooked tend to tell the truth. In 2026, I was criticized when I said that referee Pitana misread the Matuidi-Courtois situation. Seven days later, a former FIFA referee confirmed it. Similarly, the small detail here is that the AI system continues to analyze an article about a defence alliance as if it were football. If no one stops and corrects the wrong label, all subsequent analysis will be meaningless. But I do not just criticize technology. I believe the problem lies in lazy thinking. When readers see an article titled “Makkah Defence Alliance”, they do not expect a high-pressing tactical analysis. They expect an international news story. They do not need a referee's whistle to understand a diplomatic memorandum. They need a journalist with professional ethics. I remember the words of a veteran editor: “When people say 'I am analyzing football', they are actually saying 'I want a sports angle for everything'.” But sports is not a hat to put on any head. Football has rules, players, and goals. A defence alliance has acronyms, armies, and ministers. Mixing them creates chaos. For me, this confusion is not just a procedural error. It reflects a larger trend in media: making everything sensational for high engagement. An article may not be about football, but if it is branded as a tactical analysis, it attracts more readers. That is what I call the “emotional trap of the audience”, and a referee with years on the pitch is always wary of it. When I read the “Hidden Information” section, I saw all N/A. But there is a larger hidden fact: a geopolitical article was pulled into a data game meant for football. That is an offside that no assistant referee can catch, because it happens on the keyboard. I have heard many say that sports and politics should not be separated. True, football is closely linked to politics, economics, and power. But that does not mean a military agreement becomes a “blockbuster contract” of a club. That association is a metaphor, not an expert analysis. Imagine if a political analyst read a football match report and tried to find factions in the dressing room. He would see “defenders” “organizing defense” and think it is a military conspiracy. That sounds funny, but it is exactly what we are doing when we apply a football framework to a defence alliance article. The original analysis I received concluded: “The article is not about football.” That is a clear statement. It sounds like the final whistle. But instead of accepting that, I was asked to write a long article from something that admits it does not exist. This is the first time I have seen an article written about the absence of its own topic. I could talk about the work of the Secretary General, about the tenure of that Pakistani official, but that would be writing about politics, not football. I, a sports journalist, am not competent to analyze international relations deeply. If I insist, I would betray my own principle: “Only talk about what I know.” So, this is not an article about the “Makkah Defence Alliance”. This is an article about misidentification. It can happen in any field: a coach is blamed for a player's fault, a club is assessed by an inappropriate metric. Then, insiders – journalists and experts – must stand up like the main referee: blow the whistle, stop the game, and point out that the issue has gone beyond the pitch. I believe AI can help sports journalism a lot, from generating faster news to detecting technical trends. But it needs a human “referee” to calibrate it. When Article 17 is on the judge's table, I remember the way Neymar stepped over the law without looking down at his feet. He could leave Barcelona for €222 million, but the law still has a protective clause. Here, the article “stepped over” the sports domain without knowing it, and our task is to bring it back to its proper corridor. Vietnamese football also has similar lessons. Many news sites automatically take data from abroad and label everything as “transfer news”. They may paste a picture of a foreign player into an unrelated article. This confuses fans. A good referee never makes a decision before carefully observing the situation. A reputable news site should do the same. The key point is: we need a cross-checking process. If an article is classified as “football” but the content talks about the military, that is a clear sign. Check the source. If it comes from ISPR (Pakistan's military public relations agency), it is probably not a transfer report. I suggest sports newsrooms build a “stoppage-time” system to review such articles. Before publishing, ask yourself: “Is this really a football article, or am I trying to force it into a mold?” If the answer is doubtful, invite a subject-matter expert, not just a keyword spotter. Even in the analysis I am using, the “Cross-checking” section has no sports data. This is worth thinking about. Technology can automate, but it cannot decide whether an article truly belongs to its category. More and more, I realize that the human presence is more important than ever. I end this article with a question, as I often end referee analysis: If we cannot distinguish a defence alliance from a football team, can we distinguish a real penalty from a dive? The answer is yes, if we bother to observe and not rush to conclusions. Football is like life: with just one wrong angle, you will blow an imaginary whistle. A night facing VAR taught me that technology has no fault. The person operating it has. Today, when I face a mislabeled analysis, I remember that lesson. I do not need to dive into tactics, because there are no tactics here. I only need to point out that the referee started the game before checking whether the ball was inflated. A small mistake, but it can ruin the whole match. To those working in Vietnamese football media, always remember: accuracy in identifying the problem is the foundation of any analysis. Do not let a catchy headline mislead you. And if you encounter an article about a military alliance but labeled “football”, call a referee like me. I will not blow the whistle because that is not a match, but I will help you find the right pitch. In my career, I have seen countless times fans booing wrong decisions. But few realize that referees are sometimes placed in positions where they cannot judge. Similarly, when automated systems are pushed into an article beyond their data range, they guess wrong. That does not devalue them; it is simply a reminder that humans must be the ultimate controller. I will not go into detail about what the Makkah Defence Alliance is; that is not my specialty. But I can say that if you want to understand an issue, start from the right angle. If you start from the wrong angle, everything you write will be an unidentifiable thing. It is time for us, media professionals, to learn to listen to our own “whistle”. When a story is out of place, have the courage to say so. Do not try to make a football analysis out of a defence event; by doing so, you place yourself in a foul position. And as I often tell my assistants: “There are situations where it is best not to blow the whistle.” Let the story tell itself, and do not force it into a sports report. Finally, I write as a retired referee's confession: “Football is not everything, but when you decide to write about it, do so with full respect for the rules and the truth.” This article has no goals, no players, no coach – but it is one of the most memorable matches in my commentary career, because it taught me that sometimes, you don't need a ball to start a match. Thank you for reading. On the pitch, I blow the whistle to stop the game. Off the pitch, I write to stop misunderstandings. Both bring a vague but necessary joy.