The derby unfolded with a calm, almost springlike cadence in a Valencia garden where citrus trees offered fruit and shade. Referee Mateu Lahoz, hailing from the Valencian school, suddenly tightened the pace, squeezing the cards with a force that felt mechanical and loud, as if possessed. His rhythm shifted dramatically; his whistle and actions seemed to flow in one unstoppable sequence. In a striking six-minute stretch, he issued seven yellow cards and two red cards. The refrain he favored while preparing his arbitration code was a sharp, almost ironic motto: “For protesting one of my decisions.”
Generally, Lahoz faces criticism for wanting to be the focal point in every scene. He has become, rightly or wrongly, the hero of media attention and fan chatter after matches. It is not a recurring phenomenon, but his distinctive refereeing style always sparked conversation. He has a habit of addressing players by their first names during discussions on the field, a quirk that followers have long noted. Esteemed figures such as Xavi Hernández even admitted, ahead of kickoff, that Lahoz’s approach—allowing people to talk—was part of the appeal. Yet, looking at the record, Lahoz often appeared sensitive to interruptions on match day. Had he kept his temper in check, the narrative might have shifted entirely.
Counter chronicle of the draw between Barça and Espanyol: From Lahoz’s embrace of Xavi to becoming the derby’s central figure
In a match that set a high-water mark, the total of 16 yellows and two reds for double reprimands shattered league norms. Lahoz’s performance echoed a World Cup moment in Qatar where a similar surge of cards had a lasting impact. In a dramatic Argentina versus the Netherlands contest, 17 yellows and one red were shown, a frenzy never witnessed in a World Cup game before. Reports from the time highlighted Messi’s sharp criticism, with many Argentines expressing deep concern about appointing a referee unsuited to the occasion. The fear before the game was palpable, and the sentiment from the Argentine camp carried real weight in public discourse.
Xavi later shared a curious note: Lahoz told him he was glad to see him, a sentiment captured in post-match coverage. Movistar Plus+ preserved the moment on social channels, illustrating the public dialogue around refereeing decisions and their influence on the game’s flow.
Frenkie de Jong endured the scrutiny of Lahoz’s decisions in his two most recent matches. The midfielder acknowledged how the game seemed to lose its course at times, yet he chose restraint, focusing on control rather than confrontation. He stood out as one of the few players who avoided a card in those episodes.
praise and blame
The Barcelona camp saw a different verdict. Espanyol coach Diego Martínez hailed Lahoz as “one of the best referees in the world” in the wake of the draw, a sentiment that echoed Xavi’s pre-match expectations. Martínez also warned that the competition risked spiraling out of control, signaling a delicate balance between praise and critique in elite refereeing.
Lahoz, now 45, has given occasional interviews, including a discussion with the newspaper Las Provincias years ago. He spoke with evident passion about his vocation, insisting that he does not seek a leading role and that football is simply something he lives and breathes. He described the sensory depth of the game—how he can smell, hear, and feel it—and stressed that his approach would not change. The public often questions whether such fervor is a sign of ambition for reality TV or similar platforms, yet his commitment remains focused on the pitch.
The derby in Valencia concluded with a quiet rhythm, but Lahoz’s presence lingered in every line of the analysis that followed. His style, the way he interacts with players, and the feverish debate it sparks remain a defining feature of contemporary football officiating. The narrative continues to unfold in arenas far beyond the arena itself, shaping how fans, coaches, and players perceive refereeing across major leagues.
The derby narrative repeats the core tensions: the balance between authority and perception, the scrutiny of every decision, and the enduring question of how much personality a referee should bring to the game. Lahoz’s example illustrates a broader truth about modern football—that the whistle is not merely an instrument of law but a spark that can ignite conversation, controversy, and a lasting legacy in the sport’s cultural conversation.
The dialogue around Lahoz’s refereeing persists in media circles and among fans who crave clarity in the chaos of high-stakes matches. As the sport evolves, the role of the referee remains central to the drama, a human factor that challenges even the most precise tactical plans. For supporters and critics alike, Lahoz’s performances serve as a reminder that football is as much about interpretation as it is about scoring, and that every decision can become a chapter in the ongoing story of the game.