WHEN Lewis McGugan spotted the ball bouncing loose, he doubtless had one thing on his mind.

With Robert Earnshaw in a position to burst clear of the Derby defence, completely unmarked, the midfielder would have spotted that a winning tackle would not just have led to Forest winning possession, but possibly also a goal-scoring chance – if he could somehow force the ball through to the striker.

It was certainly the thought running through Colin Calderwood's head, as – he later admitted – he silently urged McGugan to win it.

And, when the teenager launched himself, committing to a full-blooded, physical challenge, that would have been his sole intention.

It was also what he succeeded in doing as, with an outstretched right boot, he made solid contact with the ball.

There was even minimal contact with his opponent, Paul Green, with Forest team-mate Nathan Tyson seeming to bear much of the impact, as he too slid in with a challenge.

But, amid the furore that followed, as the Derby players reacted with furious anger and complaints and referee Stuart Attwell swiftly brandished a red card, a bigger question was posed than merely whether McGugan deserved to be sent off.

Because, while they may have had cause to complain about other areas of the referee's performance, Calderwood and the club's hierarchy admitted from the start that there could be no appeal against McGugan's dismissal.

Whether they felt it was harsh; whether they believed it was unfair; regardless of if they thought Attwell might have shown a bit of common sense, they were certain of one thing.

An appeal would be useless.

They were the victim of the rules, as much as the referee. Because of a single, solitary word that provides referees with a handy loophole – reckless.

McGugan might not have gone in two-footed, he might not have made contact with the opposition player and he might not have gone over the top of the ball.

But was his challenge 'reckless'? That is a matter of opinion.

Yet, if the referee insists that it is, that is all the evidence that is required. There is literally no comeback. A tackle that is deemed to be 'reckless' or a threat to the safety of other players is now a red card offence.

Forest will not appeal against McGugan's three-game ban because they know it would be a fruitless exercise, a waste of time.

Of course, the authorities will argue that these rules have been put in place to protect all players. But the people it has ended up protecting most are the referees.

And, to be fair, Forest could not argue that they were not aware of the situation. Nor have they.

A referee was brought in to the City Ground over the summer to talk to the players about the rules and how they would be enforced this season.

And top of the agenda was a briefing over the tightening of rules on tackling that could be considered dangerous.

In addition to two-footed challenges and high tackles, match officials would now be given the powers to punish players for anything they felt might put opposition players at risk.

As Calderwood also testified after the match, McGugan's was the kind of tackle that, in all probability, would not even have been considered a foul five years ago.

But is the fact it is now apparently worthy of a red card good for the game?

In McGugan's case, he was clearly making an attempt to win the ball, there was obviously no malice involved, nor any intention to injure an opponent, even if his studs were showing.

Yes, at the back of his mind, he should have known that he was taking a risk, given that he had been warned about such tackles in the summer.

But, in the spur of the moment, in the split second he had to make a decision, should McGugan have been expected to consider that, as well as attempt to time his tackle?

Have we reached a stage where players must now assess the possible ramifications of their every action, before they go through with them?

If so, that cannot be good for the game.

People like Calderwood will doubtless hark back to a bygone age when, as a centre half, his battles with strikers would have been physical and rugged, with no quarter given.

But it is about more than just reminiscing about such sepia-tinged memories. It is about questioning what colour, what drama, what action the game is being robbed of in the future.

Many of us have already accepted that such monumental clashes are a thing of the past.

But if we have also reached a stage where a player can be sent off for a tackle that does not even make significant contact with the opposition player; where previously black and white decisions have been made a dull shade of grey by allowing referees to hide behind a potentially woolly judgment call that a challenge has been reckless; then we may find ourselves with a game where there are soon no longer any tackles at all.