Offside by an armpit is still offside. You checked.
You know the exact wording. Not the vibe of the rule — the wording. Offside by an armpit is still offside, and you will pull up the diagram. The Eye has watched your jurisdiction expand well beyond the pitch: board-game nights that end with you reading aloud from the box lid, the group trip spreadsheet with its locked cells, the bill split down to who had the extra guac — not because you're cheap, but because the math should be true. You trust rules because rules don't have moods. They don't wake up different. They don't say one thing at dinner and another in the car. Somewhere along the way, a person in your life was weather — unpredictable, ungovernable, arriving without warning — and you responded by building a world with load-bearing clauses. Precision became safety. The fine print became a blanket. It mostly works, and honestly, every group needs one of you. The gap the Eye found: when something can't be measured — grief, love, why your friend is upset 'for no reason' — you reach for the rulebook and find the pages empty. Those are the moments people need you to officiate with your chest instead.
Get your read — free on iPhoneyou trust rules because rules don't have moods. the eye knows whose moods you stopped trusting first.