Christy Helebert got into the squad car to be taken away. The cops drove past the baying mob, out of Athenry, to a chosen spot, two miles down the road. There, they were met by a relation of Helebert's. He got out of the squad car and into his own car to be driven away.

Less than an hour earlier, he had been assaulted by three men, one of them wielding an implement that could be used as a deadly weapon. A wider mob had surrounded him in an extremely threatening manner. Extra gardaí had to be called from the nearby town of Oranmore to ensure his protection.

Christy Helebert was not engaged in anti-social behaviour. He was not deemed by concerned parents to be a danger to children. He had committed no crime. Not only is he an upstanding citizen, but on the day in question, he was performing a thankless duty for his community.

Christy Helebert was the referee in the semi-final of the Galway senior hurling championship match between Loughrea and Mullagh on 18 October last year. Towards the end of the match, he awarded to Loughrea what is referred to as a dubious free, which led to that club winning the match. Immediately afterwards, three of the Mullagh players, at least one of whom was wielding a hurley, assaulted him.

If he erred in awarding the free, the error was made in good faith. Unlike those whose mistakes have landed the country in an economic mess, Helebert's motivations were not rooted in personal advancement or greed.

The following day, Helebert visited a doctor in Athenry who detailed extensive bruising to his body, which was consistent with forceful striking. He didn't return to work for at least a week. Yet, the Mullagh club was reported to have on hand up to 30 witnesses who would swear that the referee was not assaulted by the three players. Maybe, like Republican suspects of the 1970s who sustained injuries in police custody, Helebert actually found a quiet corner after the game where he beat himself up.

Last week, there was more of it. Referee Martin Sludden was attacked in full view of TV cameras in Croke Park at the end of the Leinster football final. He had made what he described in his subsequent match report as "a terrible mistake" in the last seconds of the contest. He had awarded a goal to Meath which was illegal. As a result, Louth, which had been on the cusp of a first title in 53 years, went home empty handed. Sludden was then confronted by a number of Louth people, and assaulted by at least two.

At the time of writing, those who are clearly identified attacking Sludden have not been banned by Louth from the association. In any other developed country, these individuals would by now have received a life ban. In some sports, the Louth county board would be severely fined and maybe even its teams banned from this year's championship. The individuals who attacked Sludden may well have acted out of character in response to emotional turmoil. But drastic action needs to be taken for the long-term good of the association and all it stands for.

Sludden's life will be severely altered as a result of his mistake. Twelve years ago, another referee, Jimmy Cooney, made a mistake in an All Ireland hurling semi final when he blew up three minutes too early. He became the subject of death threats, including late-night phone calls, which affected some of his children. Hopefully, life has moved on since then, but don't bet on it.

It's the same story for GAA men in black at every level from underage up. There is a complete lack of respect for, and appreciation of, referees which often lurches into abuse, and sometimes violence.

The dynamics within the association ensure that this culture is not tackled. The GAA, in many ways, mirrors broader national traits. There has long been an anti-authority strain running through Irish life, a hangover from colonial times. That's no bad thing in its own right. But the strain finds expression in GAA in an ambivalence towards on-field authority, providing a self-serving refuge, and a shocking example to children.

In political terms, the GAA is as democratic as the PR system that is operated in election times. And in both cases, this inevitably leads to narrow local interests trumping the greater good. Thus, assaulting referees, and all that represents, is not as important to individual clubs or counties as ensuring that none of their people pay a proper penalty for it.

No respect is forthcoming from the GAA's governing body. An experimental rule to issue a yellow card for remonstrating with the ref was shot down at this year's congress.

The authority of the ref is undermined in other ways. If a disciplinary incident from a game is highlighted on TV, yet was missed by the ref, he is subsequently invited to review the incident. A metaphorical gun is put to his head. The system undermines the ref's authority and appears to be more concerned with public relations than applying proper discipline.

Cultural change is seriously required. It's already difficult to get people to volunteer for a thankless yet vital task. Preparation for county teams has become professional. Yet the standards of officiating are bound to go in the opposite direction if the pool of referees dries up further. After all, who would want to have their lives turned upside down for succumbing to a simple, innocent instant of basic human failing?

mclifford@tribune.ie