The referee “had to be escorted off the field by a squadron of police with drawn revolvers.” Soon after that, another referee “brought his own revolver along in his pocket and had to use it to keep the fans off him until the police arrived.”

More deplorable soccer violence? Actually, no. I’ve cheated a little, by using the word referee where I should have said umpire. The sport with the firearms is baseball, and the incidents referred to (in Robert Smith’s book “Baseball”) took place in the 1880s.

The trouble is that modern soccer is beginning to look rather like baseball did 125 years ago. It has a huge problem with its officiating. Three recent stories highlight the issue:

* The ongoing scandal in Germany over fixed games, which has so far resulted in the arrests of two referees and one player.

* The case of Brazilian referee Luiz Carlos Silva, who was attacked on the field by a fan during a weekend game, and retaliated by repeatedly punching the fan in the face.

* The sudden retirement of the Swede Anders Frisk, considered one of the world’s top referees, on Saturday.

Of this trio of woes, the most insidious is the last one. Frisk is 42 years old, at the height of his career, with three more years to go before reaching the international referee retirement age of 45. He was considered a certainty for next year’s World Cup in Germany, and a likely candidate for the sport’s top officiating honor, that of refereeing the final.

A top referee, then, but it must be said that Frisk’s refereeing persona has never been easy to stomach. The glaring blond hair, the perfectly muscled body with its beach-boy tan, the tight shorts, and the theatrical gestures have been a constant irritant in a sport where the best referee has long been defined as “the one you don’t notice.”

So what has happened to make the image conscious Frisk decide to prematurely retire? Death threats, to him and his family – messages that Frisk considers serious enough for him to quit.

“It’s not worth carrying on,” he said Saturday. “My safety and the safety of my family go before everything else. These last few weeks have been the worst of my life.”

Frisk’s nightmare began on February 23, when he refereed the first leg of the Barcelona-Chelsea Champions League game. Barcelona took the game 2-1, and Chelsea coach Jose Mourinho made no secret of his bitterness at Frisk’s ejection of his star striker, Didier Drogba, 11 minutes into the second half.

Mourinho failed to turn up for the post-game press conference, then began a series of snide references to a “meeting” between Frisk and Barcelona coach Frank Rijkaard at halftime, even suggesting that Rijkaard had visited Frisk in the referee’s locker room. Although Frisk hotly denied this, Mourinho has never withdrawn his accusation. And it is from aggrieved Chelsea fans that the threatening e-mails, faxes, and phone calls have been arriving. Particularly worrying to Frisk, says the London Independent, were threatening calls made to his secret home telephone number, indicating that a concerted effort was being made harass him.

Soccer authorities in Europe quickly expressed their support for Frisk, and criticized the role played by Mourinho. The strongest criticism of the Chelsea coach came from Volker Roth, the chairman of UEFA’s referee committee: “It’s the coaches who whip up the masses and actually make them threaten people with death … We can’t accept that one of our best referees has been forced to quit because of this. People like Mourinho are the enemy of football.”

This is not the first time that Mourinho has accused an opposing coach of being too friendly with a referee – he made a similar complaint earlier this season about Manchester United’s Alex Ferguson – nor is it the first time that English fans have hounded a referee. After England’s defeat by Portugal in last year’s European championship, the British tabloid press pilloried Swiss referee Urs Meier for canceling a potentially game-winning goal by defender Sol Campbell. Meier’s personal telephone number and e-mail address were published, and he received over 16,000 abusive e-mails and phone calls; police were called in to protect his home and office. Meier retired soon afterward, when he reached the age of 45.

Even before Frisk’s dramatic retirement, UEFA was incensed with Mourinho because he had publicly called for the Italian Pierluigi Collina to be assigned as the referee for the second leg of the Barcelona games. Apparently, UEFA had already made that decision, and followed through with it – risking the accusation that they were bowing to pressure from Mourinho.

But the main pressure on the soccer referee comes not from coaches, but from the nature of the sport itself: a fast-moving, 22-player, 90-minute contact sport ranging over an area of about 1 1/2 acres – with just one man called on to make all the decisions, and to make them instantly and correctly.

Adding to that stress is the fact that soccer is a low-scoring sport. One goal – read, one decision by the referee – can decide a game, maybe a whole season, maybe a coach’s job.

A possible helping hand for the beleaguered referees – technological aid from instant replays on crucial calls – has been repeatedly and forcefully ruled out by FIFA. But the way things are going, FIFA may be obliged to rethink that position. Bernard Saules, the president of the French soccer referees union, recently drew attention to the seriousness of the threats to referees: “One day we will no longer be able to find referees who can stand the pressure.”

Frisk has made his choice. He has four children, and believes them to be in danger. UEFA’s attempts to get him to change his mind have failed: “His decision to retire is final,” said UEFA chief executive Lars-Christer Olsson, “and we must respect that.”

But the shock waves made by Frisk’s decision are gathering strength. FIFA chief Sepp Blatter yesterday took a lightly disguised swipe at Mourinho: “I am appalled by the verbal attacks on referees […] It is often such extreme behavior that sparks off trouble among supporters.”

Meanwhile, Roth, speaking on behalf of the UEFA referees, hinted that there might be a strike of referees.

“I am really no friend of strikes,” he said. “But we cannot just do nothing. There will be a demonstration of solidarity among referees as you have never seen before.”

But today’s referee is vulnerable as never before. Carrying a revolver on the field, the simple answer of the 1880s baseball umpire, is no longer an option. Anyway, where is the protection from the frightening, invisible tentacles of the Internet, the fax machine, and the phone line?