Oh, Referees...

Oh, what a wonderful day I have had! My beautiful, iridescent unicorn of a soccer team just won our first tournament! Currently, I am incapacitated by a real bugger of a cold, but did that stop me from driving all the way out to nowhere land in the cold, wind, and rain to play three games back to back? No! You see, I am of that fortunate mindset that illness can be ignored and it will just disappear. This uppity attitude has never worked well for me in my sixteen years on this earth, and today was no exception. With a disgustingly mucus-filled nose, a cough that sounds suspiciously similar to a Great Dane's howl, and a lung capacity of about 0.3 milliliters, I trudged through 150 minutes of soccer. Ow. The injustice of this tragedy was lightened only slightly by my teams resounding victory (to which I contributed a grand total of NOTHING), and I will tell you why.
Referees hate us.
I don't know why this is, but it's true. Referees hate my team with a burning passion. They have no reason to be: we foul very infrequently, are quite polite to them and the other team, and are  never obnoxious on the sidelines. But they still hate us. Throughout the three games of this morning, a gross amount of incorrect fouls were called on us. For example, in an especially unfortunate circumstance, two girls from another team both ran at the ball in our 18-yard box, both obviously wishing to score their first goal of the game. They collided with a loud smack and lost the ball to one of our defenders. TWEEEEEEET! The idiot Ref called a foul on us! My poor coach tried to tell him that no, in fact the collision was caused by the stupidness of the other team, but apparently the Ref was both deaf and mute, because he took no notice and proceeded to hand the opposing team a free kick. Eighteen feet away from the goal. Voila! She scored.
This was only one of the numerous ridiculous calls on our team, but it gets worse! We were repeatedly fouled by the other teams and the Ref never called a single one. One poor talented member of our team was everything but beaten-up by angry defenders - still, no call. There was even an instance when a girl literally palmed the ball down to her feet in order to trap it. Guess what? Apparently her fingers magically don't count as part of her hand because NO HAND BALL.

So, my dearest Referees whom I have had the pleasure of encountering today, I'd like to thank you. You, my dearest Refs, have shown me that there is love in this world! Because you obviously must love the other teams a TON to ignore so many fouls and fabricate even more.
Hugs and Kisses!