Have you ever thought that you may have missed a lesson in life because you did not listen? On the other hand, maybe you misread a situation, a person, a player, or even a book. I decided to go public with my web site this week, perhaps it was a good decision, and perhaps it was bad. At any rate, I have been peppered with good comments, bad comments, impartial ones and just silly garbage. Overall, I am pleased. I have learned a lot.
EGO….some people are able to keep it under control, others are not so able and yet somehow we all seem to be able to function. Perhaps I am a little controversial in my writings on the site, but who wants to read boring cliché garbage? Do you think that Rick Reilly has a column in SI because he sucks or is boring? I highly doubt it.
RESPECT…some people have it, some do not, and it could conceivably be linked to the ego. I am a young official, 29 years of age and soon to hit the big three-oh next month. I look younger than I am, at least that is what I’ve been told. I have trouble coming up with credibility in my appearance due to my age….does that seem fair? Perhaps that is why I have struggled my way through this, learning that officiating is for the older, more respected men out there. Do I even need to go into the problems that women face in officiating? That is a whole other web site!
I have an idea, I think all young officials should do this if they are having trouble like myself in this realm. Go out and purchase a bottle of hair dye, make sure it is grey. Next, get really lazy. Quit your day job and sit around eating pork rinds and drinking beer (sober up for your games of course) until you develop a beer gut that is at least four to six inches beyond your pant’s waist line. Unfortunately for me, I have such a high metabolism that most of this would prove ineffective and would only serve to raise my cholesterol to a dangerous level. But if it works for you, you will earn much more respect than you could possibly dream.
Lessons, lessons, lessons. Everyday I learn something new, usually in the outside world, hardly online. My point? Youth have something to add to officiating, youth have things that are valuable to say. Do not put the future of basketball officiating in the toilet because you see youth as a threat, ego or not. Try giving back by sharing stories, sharing experiences. Go help out at a camp, go forth and be a mentor to many or just one. Do not suffocate the profession that you have seen fit for so many years to be a part of.
So what do I do? I guess I just wing it, like everyone did at my age or younger. Do my best like I do with everything I attempt. This web site for example, why is it that there are no others like it out there? What I think is really funny, no matter what I say on this site it will always be taken out of context. My sarcasm, my wit, and personality are hard to take at times. But roll with it, this is my mountain to climb, get your own.
Friday, December 17, 2004
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
Taking this too seriously?
Recently, assigned to a couple of junior varsity games in an out of the way logging town, I was forced to start a game with myself as the official, and no one else. Now I do not profess to be the “God” of refereeing, but I do make a concerted effort to look professional. I show up on time, I have a change of shoes from outdoor to indoor, I wear a clean uniform, I own an association jacket, I do my very best to keep a good name for the profession of officiating. Unfortunately, my partner did not uphold the same values.
Upon his arrival with two minutes to go in halftime, he looked confused and disheveled. On the first play of the second half, he slipped in his wet shoes and just about went down on the hard floor. I was standing on the opposite baseline, when he finally blew his first whistle. It came flying out of his mouth and bounced twice on the floor in front of players and fans, who began snickering. All I could do was take a deep breath and let it go, what else was I supposed to do? Supposedly this official has a year on me in experience, but I was not aware of that at the time all of this was happening.
We made it through both games, I really do not know how. At one point the crowd was arguing with me because I was the only one blowing my whistle out there. I started into the crowd with my frustration, which I would not recommend unless trained in the art of being a comedian.
“C’mon ref! Call it both ways! You can’t keep missing that!”
“Really,” I turned to the crowd and pinpointed the old man heckling me. “Don’t you have something original to say? I’d think at your age that you’d have been able to think of something that no ref has ever heard, but here you are and I am left with the same old clichés.”
I think that my own frustration was starting to become apparent. I am glad I did not pursue the argument with the old fellow, it would have gone nowhere anyway. I was angrier with my own partner than anything else. People who do not take what they do seriously unfortunately cause others to be taken as hacks too. All too often in officiating you are judged on appearance, I suppose this is true of anything though, but in a public job it can create trouble for co-workers who eventually get grouped into the pile for the sins of their partners. I wish to be no part of this! But, am I taking what I do too seriously?
The high school level is serious, but not as serious as college or professional. I suppose my goals of attaining the higher levels of basketball officiating come through on the court. I dress for success, I work hard no matter the level of game. All I ask is that people who do not, be put at levels of games where they will cause the least amount of damage or be removed entirely. I have fun on a basketball court because I come prepared for anything and I have no stress because of the prepared nature. I hope that the rest of my games this year do not end up like this past one, I may end up laughing out loud with fans and players at a partner who belongs in a recreational league.
Upon his arrival with two minutes to go in halftime, he looked confused and disheveled. On the first play of the second half, he slipped in his wet shoes and just about went down on the hard floor. I was standing on the opposite baseline, when he finally blew his first whistle. It came flying out of his mouth and bounced twice on the floor in front of players and fans, who began snickering. All I could do was take a deep breath and let it go, what else was I supposed to do? Supposedly this official has a year on me in experience, but I was not aware of that at the time all of this was happening.
We made it through both games, I really do not know how. At one point the crowd was arguing with me because I was the only one blowing my whistle out there. I started into the crowd with my frustration, which I would not recommend unless trained in the art of being a comedian.
“C’mon ref! Call it both ways! You can’t keep missing that!”
“Really,” I turned to the crowd and pinpointed the old man heckling me. “Don’t you have something original to say? I’d think at your age that you’d have been able to think of something that no ref has ever heard, but here you are and I am left with the same old clichés.”
I think that my own frustration was starting to become apparent. I am glad I did not pursue the argument with the old fellow, it would have gone nowhere anyway. I was angrier with my own partner than anything else. People who do not take what they do seriously unfortunately cause others to be taken as hacks too. All too often in officiating you are judged on appearance, I suppose this is true of anything though, but in a public job it can create trouble for co-workers who eventually get grouped into the pile for the sins of their partners. I wish to be no part of this! But, am I taking what I do too seriously?
The high school level is serious, but not as serious as college or professional. I suppose my goals of attaining the higher levels of basketball officiating come through on the court. I dress for success, I work hard no matter the level of game. All I ask is that people who do not, be put at levels of games where they will cause the least amount of damage or be removed entirely. I have fun on a basketball court because I come prepared for anything and I have no stress because of the prepared nature. I hope that the rest of my games this year do not end up like this past one, I may end up laughing out loud with fans and players at a partner who belongs in a recreational league.
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
I still love this game!
What an interesting week this has been for me as an official. The high school season has begun and it has been no picnic. Yesterday I had to deal with a freshman girl’s coach who ventured five feet on to the court, and when I told him, “Coach, you can’t be on the court, you know the rules,” he decided to be an arse with me for the rest of the game. On Sunday, after refereeing grade six girls basketball, a parent came up to me and proceeded to be disrespectful and demeaning. What is with people today?
Coaches are, for the most part, nice to deal with and I can communicate with them all. It is funny though when I come across a coach who tells me how to do my job, but only after I instruct him on a rule which he surely already knows. Today I talked with a fellow official who shared with me their negative experience with the same coach! I had no idea and I had been told the story before about the disrespect that this coach has for officials, and apparently authority in general. I think it is a definite sign that a coach has no clue when they approach me when they: (1.) Proclaim their infinite knowledge, (2.) Tell you how they have been coaching for such a long time, and do not know you, and (3.) Do not know how to say anything in a sentence without first conveying, “I’m not trying to be the bad guy here…but…” I would love to say here what I think of a man who is a one-sided communicator, but there really is no point. He is forced to live with himself, and if he has been a freshman coach for as long as he claimed, he is never going to get any further without changing his own ways. That is larger than anything I could ever say or do to him.
As for the sixth grader’s parent, she really is not worth my breath or acknowledgement. I will say this; there were three women at the scorer’s table that clearly witnessed what she said to me. One was the coach of a team I was to officiate next. When the woman finished spouting her emotional poison, I said aloud and to no one in particular, “What a bitch.” The coach came over to me and said, “I don’t know how or why you guys volunteer for this. I really admire what you do and people like that don’t deserve to have you officiate their games anyway, they aren’t worthy.” I thanked her for her kind words. I had already figured out what that woman’s problem was. On the court, her daughter was flopping around like a rag doll, trying to draw fouls. She was highly dramatic, and was trying to suck me into it. After she complained verbally and physically by hopping up and down in place, I warned her to stop it or it would result in a technical foul. I gave her a chance, and she didn’t blow it, she left that up to her mother.
It is funny again how players reflect what is taught to them off the court. The coach’s girls lost, due to a lack of composure, very similar to the example that they were shown. The parent’s daughter was only mirroring what she learned at home, high drama and disrespect. I cannot fault any of these players for what they do on the court, I always look to the tree who bore the fruit. No one takes root without a learning foundation, I feel sorry for the kids who have to learn through such bad examples. I know that I had horrible coaches growing up, but my parents were always the quiet ones in the stands, who understood the love I had for the game, win or lose. If I did my best, they were happy, and that was all that mattered. I just hope the game of basketball can withstand this negative barrage lately, with the NBA being what it is and bad examples all around. As long as I am around there will be someone who still stands by morals and love of a game deep in my roots. I can still laugh and remember that this is the best game on earth.
Coaches are, for the most part, nice to deal with and I can communicate with them all. It is funny though when I come across a coach who tells me how to do my job, but only after I instruct him on a rule which he surely already knows. Today I talked with a fellow official who shared with me their negative experience with the same coach! I had no idea and I had been told the story before about the disrespect that this coach has for officials, and apparently authority in general. I think it is a definite sign that a coach has no clue when they approach me when they: (1.) Proclaim their infinite knowledge, (2.) Tell you how they have been coaching for such a long time, and do not know you, and (3.) Do not know how to say anything in a sentence without first conveying, “I’m not trying to be the bad guy here…but…” I would love to say here what I think of a man who is a one-sided communicator, but there really is no point. He is forced to live with himself, and if he has been a freshman coach for as long as he claimed, he is never going to get any further without changing his own ways. That is larger than anything I could ever say or do to him.
As for the sixth grader’s parent, she really is not worth my breath or acknowledgement. I will say this; there were three women at the scorer’s table that clearly witnessed what she said to me. One was the coach of a team I was to officiate next. When the woman finished spouting her emotional poison, I said aloud and to no one in particular, “What a bitch.” The coach came over to me and said, “I don’t know how or why you guys volunteer for this. I really admire what you do and people like that don’t deserve to have you officiate their games anyway, they aren’t worthy.” I thanked her for her kind words. I had already figured out what that woman’s problem was. On the court, her daughter was flopping around like a rag doll, trying to draw fouls. She was highly dramatic, and was trying to suck me into it. After she complained verbally and physically by hopping up and down in place, I warned her to stop it or it would result in a technical foul. I gave her a chance, and she didn’t blow it, she left that up to her mother.
It is funny again how players reflect what is taught to them off the court. The coach’s girls lost, due to a lack of composure, very similar to the example that they were shown. The parent’s daughter was only mirroring what she learned at home, high drama and disrespect. I cannot fault any of these players for what they do on the court, I always look to the tree who bore the fruit. No one takes root without a learning foundation, I feel sorry for the kids who have to learn through such bad examples. I know that I had horrible coaches growing up, but my parents were always the quiet ones in the stands, who understood the love I had for the game, win or lose. If I did my best, they were happy, and that was all that mattered. I just hope the game of basketball can withstand this negative barrage lately, with the NBA being what it is and bad examples all around. As long as I am around there will be someone who still stands by morals and love of a game deep in my roots. I can still laugh and remember that this is the best game on earth.
Friday, November 26, 2004
Yes, we take a test!
Recently I had to take a test that is regulated by the NFHS (National Federation of State High School Associations). The OSAA (Oregon State Athletic Association) and our association mandate it to be completed on time. It is comprised of one hundred true or false questions that are very wordy and sometimes misleading. To be certified as an official within the associations mentioned earlier, you must score at least an eighty. To become a playoff or state tournament official, you must score at least ninety. I am only in my third year of officiating, last year I studied long and hard and only scored an eighty-one. This year, I did not study at all and I scored an eighty-nine! I guess a year worth of experiences can teach you more than a book can.
Still, doing well on a test does not translate into doing well on the court. I do not know too many people my age that could handle the high-pressure situations as I have over the past couple of years. But then again, how many twenty-nine year olds do you know that have twenty years of experience within one avenue or facet? Think hard because I doubt you can name more than five to ten people you know, if that. I am extremely confidant in what I can do on a basketball court and I love the game. Loving it and learning from it and applying it are what basketball is about for life and me. Not many people get to love their jobs; I am one of the lucky few.
Soon, I will be writing a piece for REFEREE magazine on Goal Setting, which is a major part of my life in officiating. Without goals, you just would not make it anywhere, which goes for life in general. My new goal is to communicate more effectively with players and coaches. I will use an example from a tournament I did on the weekend in a nearby town.
The visiting team was up by over ten points and they were running up the score. There was less than two minutes remaining and the play was occurring to the left of me, as I was the trailing official. My partner was to the right of the play and I had the angle to call a kid whacking the shooters arm while he was in the act of shooting. It was an obvious foul and I was within five or six feet of the play to make the call. The visiting team’s coach went ballistic, jumping up and down and creating a scene. I told him to calm down and that I was not going to tolerate any more antics like those that he had just displayed. After the game had ended, I again approached him and asked him to be more conscious of his reactions and how they teach the grade five boys to disrespect officials. Of course, the coach just would not listen because he was right and I was wrong.
In the championship game, I had wiped the slate clear and started anew in my mind for this same coach. I feel, new game, new frame of mind and all else is done and over with. The coach had the audacity to accuse me indirectly through my partner that the game was over with before it had even started. But please, let us consider the fact his team was out hustled, out played, and at a disadvantage height wise. They were simply blown away in the final by a superior team and none of my calls, nor my partners, were consequence to their undoing.
Where in a test are you going to find the answer to that kind of situation? I just ignored the coach and his garbage and called a great game, it was too bad the fellow had to be an emotionally unstable loser for his boys to model themselves after. After all, when a coach or player cannot find enough respect for you they obviously do not have any for themselves. You will not find that in a test or rule book either.
Still, doing well on a test does not translate into doing well on the court. I do not know too many people my age that could handle the high-pressure situations as I have over the past couple of years. But then again, how many twenty-nine year olds do you know that have twenty years of experience within one avenue or facet? Think hard because I doubt you can name more than five to ten people you know, if that. I am extremely confidant in what I can do on a basketball court and I love the game. Loving it and learning from it and applying it are what basketball is about for life and me. Not many people get to love their jobs; I am one of the lucky few.
Soon, I will be writing a piece for REFEREE magazine on Goal Setting, which is a major part of my life in officiating. Without goals, you just would not make it anywhere, which goes for life in general. My new goal is to communicate more effectively with players and coaches. I will use an example from a tournament I did on the weekend in a nearby town.
The visiting team was up by over ten points and they were running up the score. There was less than two minutes remaining and the play was occurring to the left of me, as I was the trailing official. My partner was to the right of the play and I had the angle to call a kid whacking the shooters arm while he was in the act of shooting. It was an obvious foul and I was within five or six feet of the play to make the call. The visiting team’s coach went ballistic, jumping up and down and creating a scene. I told him to calm down and that I was not going to tolerate any more antics like those that he had just displayed. After the game had ended, I again approached him and asked him to be more conscious of his reactions and how they teach the grade five boys to disrespect officials. Of course, the coach just would not listen because he was right and I was wrong.
In the championship game, I had wiped the slate clear and started anew in my mind for this same coach. I feel, new game, new frame of mind and all else is done and over with. The coach had the audacity to accuse me indirectly through my partner that the game was over with before it had even started. But please, let us consider the fact his team was out hustled, out played, and at a disadvantage height wise. They were simply blown away in the final by a superior team and none of my calls, nor my partners, were consequence to their undoing.
Where in a test are you going to find the answer to that kind of situation? I just ignored the coach and his garbage and called a great game, it was too bad the fellow had to be an emotionally unstable loser for his boys to model themselves after. After all, when a coach or player cannot find enough respect for you they obviously do not have any for themselves. You will not find that in a test or rule book either.
Monday, November 15, 2004
Reinforcing Respect
The other week in the NBA, Kobe Bryant of the Los Angeles Lakers jogged back from a play where he missed a shot and pouted to the referee. He pointed directly into the face of the official and no doubt said something personal to the official; however, the referee made no call at all. I was sitting there stunned; I had become frozen to the seat of my couch because the official took the abuse of some so-called role model. I do not pretend to like Kobe Bryant, nor do I pretend to know what the officials in the NBA are told to call. I simply look at a play in which another official was disrespected by a “superstar” athlete for millions of adoring fans to see. I believe this to damage the entire profession of basketball officiating and to put asunder upon the name of all good officials who would “T” up a two-bit hood for being so blatantly disrespectful.
These overpaid babies in the NBA whine over the millions of dollars they make per year, claiming that they have a family to feed; right Sprewell? Each and every call a referee makes is a personal attack on them, not a personal foul against the other team! It is absolutely ludicrous to think that what reactions these players have on the court to officials and to each other does not spill over into the public. Kids today are mimicking their heroes of the hardwood, the Allen Iversons, the Kobe Bryants…the stars of the league. Right! There was a day in the league where integrity and honor abounded, players complained when there was blood dripping from their forehead, not a slap on the hand. The garbage that happens today is just making me tune out and find a new source of entertainment.
I had to officiate grade five children the other day at a middle school and I did the game solo. Right at the point where one boy harshly fouled another and then went after him, bumping chests and egging him on to fight, was when I had another look at the influence of the NBA. Fights, disrespect, garbage, this is what children have to model themselves after on the basketball court. It is sad that a person who is good and charitable is often overlooked in the media for a sensationalized athlete without an ounce of respect for himself or others. I know I sound angry, I know I sound callous and morose, but how are we as officials supposed to get respect on a court when our so called professional peers are taking crap from a person who just barely got off the hook for allegedly raping a girl in Colorado? How do children learn today from creeps and high rollers? I have many questions and I make up the answers on the court as I go along. I gave a technical foul to that kid and made his coach remove him from the game and talk to him. After all, how are children to learn from a television that being disrespectful to opposing team members and officials reflects back upon themselves, their coaches, their teammates and their parents and family members. Children can think for themselves, but there is responsibility that we all must take in the raising of them. We can no longer depend upon responsible, respectable role models in our society today. Make the right call.
David
These overpaid babies in the NBA whine over the millions of dollars they make per year, claiming that they have a family to feed; right Sprewell? Each and every call a referee makes is a personal attack on them, not a personal foul against the other team! It is absolutely ludicrous to think that what reactions these players have on the court to officials and to each other does not spill over into the public. Kids today are mimicking their heroes of the hardwood, the Allen Iversons, the Kobe Bryants…the stars of the league. Right! There was a day in the league where integrity and honor abounded, players complained when there was blood dripping from their forehead, not a slap on the hand. The garbage that happens today is just making me tune out and find a new source of entertainment.
I had to officiate grade five children the other day at a middle school and I did the game solo. Right at the point where one boy harshly fouled another and then went after him, bumping chests and egging him on to fight, was when I had another look at the influence of the NBA. Fights, disrespect, garbage, this is what children have to model themselves after on the basketball court. It is sad that a person who is good and charitable is often overlooked in the media for a sensationalized athlete without an ounce of respect for himself or others. I know I sound angry, I know I sound callous and morose, but how are we as officials supposed to get respect on a court when our so called professional peers are taking crap from a person who just barely got off the hook for allegedly raping a girl in Colorado? How do children learn today from creeps and high rollers? I have many questions and I make up the answers on the court as I go along. I gave a technical foul to that kid and made his coach remove him from the game and talk to him. After all, how are children to learn from a television that being disrespectful to opposing team members and officials reflects back upon themselves, their coaches, their teammates and their parents and family members. Children can think for themselves, but there is responsibility that we all must take in the raising of them. We can no longer depend upon responsible, respectable role models in our society today. Make the right call.
David
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
CHECK YOUR EGO WITH YOUR COAT, PLEASE
In the wintertime where I come from, not wearing your coat could spell certain doom for your outer extremities. It is a part of your existence in essence; you check it at doors so that you are not overheated inside a residence. You lay it down across a vacant chair at a table when in a restaurant keeping an eye not to lose your cell phone in the pocket, it is a part of you and you a part of it. This is the very same analogy for your ego, it goes where you go and is an integral part of your fabric as a human. However, there are times where it must be checked at the door, laid across an empty chair in a restaurant with your watchful eyes upon it.
An ego is a funny thing. It makes you laugh when you are in fact sad, it makes you angry when you are actually afraid. It can cloud your judgment in a time when you really need it most to be impartial and unbiased. As a referee, an ego is a bad thing to have when you are on the court.
At times I must check my own ego with a fellow official in order to call a fair game. This is the hardest situation to be in because it causes tension all around. I have talked with many individuals and come to one conclusion, NOT A SINGLE PERSON COMES TO A GAME TO WATCH THE OFFICIALS. In fact, they come to watch the players. Sound strange? If it does, you are in the wrong field.
An ego is a funny thing. It makes you laugh when you are in fact sad, it makes you angry when you are actually afraid. It can cloud your judgment in a time when you really need it most to be impartial and unbiased. As a referee, an ego is a bad thing to have when you are on the court.
At times I must check my own ego with a fellow official in order to call a fair game. This is the hardest situation to be in because it causes tension all around. I have talked with many individuals and come to one conclusion, NOT A SINGLE PERSON COMES TO A GAME TO WATCH THE OFFICIALS. In fact, they come to watch the players. Sound strange? If it does, you are in the wrong field.
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
The Art of Shaming an Official
This is a misleading title. Perhaps it should read, “The Art of Making an Ass out of yourself for the benefit of no one in particular.” But then again, that is a little longwinded. As an official of a game, you are forced to deal with people’s emotions. I say forced because there really is not a better word to describe the manner in which some people wish to convey themselves. Usually this comes in the form of anger. It also comes in the form of joy or elation, but those examples are not the hard ones to deal with.
Recently in a local recreational club in Portland I was faced with the particular ‘art’ of one individual. My partner and I had officiated a game that flowed smoothly, with equal calls. The more aggressive team was leading the foul category, and as always, was leading the game. Upon the completion of the contest, one individual saw it fit to berate my lack of calls in the key area where the bigger men were banging it up. Being the smart-ass I am, I pointed out that it is not my responsibility to create gentlemen out of behemoths. My calls are merely to keep a game injury free, and to create an atmosphere in which both teams compete fairly. He did not see my calls as the fairest in the land.
Shaming an official is a job done by an individual who: (1.) Has low self-esteem in the first place (2.) Has a control complex or anger management issue, and (3.) Probably has had a domestic abuse complaint on file somewhere. That being said, these individuals are not to be taken lightly, nor are they to be baited for your own amusement. I have learned the hard way.
Instead, taking the stance to hold your ground on your decisions and to walk away from the confrontation the moment it becomes personal is the best bet. Once a game is over, a player that forces an issue is not worth talking to for there will be nothing that can come out of it. Most times, if an argument ensues, it is because your own stubbornness as the purveyor of the contest has taken over. You always do your best on the court, ALWAYS. If it is not your night, then so be it, let it go and move on. Never say this to a player…”It’s only a game.” However, remember this small phrase to yourself because you must understand that you are not there because it seems like a job to you. If you are having fun out there, it shows through, and for every five people who have something good to say about your own performance, there will always be one who does not. Five to one. It is a phrase that I repeat almost daily to myself, and no, it is not a reference to “The Doors” song. Though I do like the line in the song, “Five to one baby, one in five. No one here gets out alive.” True words of life, for it is the biggest game of all, a basketball game is small potatoes in comparison.
So next time some player tries his or her dandiest to get under your skin, remember “FIVE TO ONE.” No individual has power over you one way or the other. Tell them to take their perverse ‘artwork’ and shove it, just remember to do it silently and smile to yourself. There is no shame as an official, only shame in watching others make asses of themselves while trying to get a reaction out of you. Feel sorry for them, and be glad they are not you.
David
Recently in a local recreational club in Portland I was faced with the particular ‘art’ of one individual. My partner and I had officiated a game that flowed smoothly, with equal calls. The more aggressive team was leading the foul category, and as always, was leading the game. Upon the completion of the contest, one individual saw it fit to berate my lack of calls in the key area where the bigger men were banging it up. Being the smart-ass I am, I pointed out that it is not my responsibility to create gentlemen out of behemoths. My calls are merely to keep a game injury free, and to create an atmosphere in which both teams compete fairly. He did not see my calls as the fairest in the land.
Shaming an official is a job done by an individual who: (1.) Has low self-esteem in the first place (2.) Has a control complex or anger management issue, and (3.) Probably has had a domestic abuse complaint on file somewhere. That being said, these individuals are not to be taken lightly, nor are they to be baited for your own amusement. I have learned the hard way.
Instead, taking the stance to hold your ground on your decisions and to walk away from the confrontation the moment it becomes personal is the best bet. Once a game is over, a player that forces an issue is not worth talking to for there will be nothing that can come out of it. Most times, if an argument ensues, it is because your own stubbornness as the purveyor of the contest has taken over. You always do your best on the court, ALWAYS. If it is not your night, then so be it, let it go and move on. Never say this to a player…”It’s only a game.” However, remember this small phrase to yourself because you must understand that you are not there because it seems like a job to you. If you are having fun out there, it shows through, and for every five people who have something good to say about your own performance, there will always be one who does not. Five to one. It is a phrase that I repeat almost daily to myself, and no, it is not a reference to “The Doors” song. Though I do like the line in the song, “Five to one baby, one in five. No one here gets out alive.” True words of life, for it is the biggest game of all, a basketball game is small potatoes in comparison.
So next time some player tries his or her dandiest to get under your skin, remember “FIVE TO ONE.” No individual has power over you one way or the other. Tell them to take their perverse ‘artwork’ and shove it, just remember to do it silently and smile to yourself. There is no shame as an official, only shame in watching others make asses of themselves while trying to get a reaction out of you. Feel sorry for them, and be glad they are not you.
David
Saturday, September 18, 2004
Communication
I like to think that the Lord works in mysterious ways; He helps those who help themselves. This is to say that being clear with communication and dealing with people is a way of putting out fires before they get larger. You must do it yourself and the rest is provided as the result of your actions. Today at a 3-on-3 tournament, this was evident in the way I handled a situation.
At the Rose Garden here in Portland, I was given the last minute privilege of coordinating the officials for a tournament. It was the first time for me and came naturally, I enjoyed it and hated it at the same time. I was thrown into the fire at the last minute and had to make it happen with little room for error. It worked out fine. I am very tired right now and am in dire need of sleep. You see, I only got three hours the night before the event and did not eat a thing until the event was over with. It was the truest test of my wit and patience with people and occurrences that I had encountered in a long time. I am proud to say that I passed.
One fire I put out was with a parent who was coaching his boys. Some spectator and the coach noted a discrepancy in the scorekeeper’s book and they began to make a scene. A giant fellow decided he would “help” me out by stepping in and trying to talk to this coach and calm him down, he just made things worse. I stopped the game and came over to the table. I asked “tiny” (who happened to be a six foot two, three hundred pound black man) to let me handle my court.
I rose my voice calmly, “Coach, I don’t really care what you think you have, or what your boys think you have. As far as I am concerned, what is in the book is final.”
The case was closed in my mind; I walked away. The game continued and the boys began to get a little rough, I wanted them to play and I knew where it was going. Again though, the coach felt it necessary to point out my game management skills.
I almost immediately called an offensive foul on a boy who threw an elbow into the defender. The coach said, “Finally!”
I immediately shot back, “Does that make ya happy coach?! Are you satisfied enough to calm down?”
He told me to watch the game, which was actually being played by the kids without me even looking at them.
I said, “Coach, your actions off the court and what you say only is reflected by your kids on the court. Zip it and let them play.”
I had a feeling of calm within me, I had stated what needed to be said and the fire within that coach was extinguished. I had several kids come up to me and say how much they loved the way I refereed. It touched me, and I stopped to talk with them to help them understand that we are all human and we all get angry over things that really are not very important at the end of the day.
Later on, I was officiating the final of that same age group with those same boys. The coach, the parents, the kids all were quiet with me…they did not say a thing to me. I can only guess that my actions in the initial game set the tone for what kind of garbage I would put up with from someone. At the end of that final, that very same coach came over to me and shook my hand and thanked me for my hard work. Sometimes people like to test your limits as a referee and as a person, they push and prod and try to elicit a response of fire within you. If you know who you are, you will always put out the fires with communication and hard work. I guess the same is true in life and love.
David
At the Rose Garden here in Portland, I was given the last minute privilege of coordinating the officials for a tournament. It was the first time for me and came naturally, I enjoyed it and hated it at the same time. I was thrown into the fire at the last minute and had to make it happen with little room for error. It worked out fine. I am very tired right now and am in dire need of sleep. You see, I only got three hours the night before the event and did not eat a thing until the event was over with. It was the truest test of my wit and patience with people and occurrences that I had encountered in a long time. I am proud to say that I passed.
One fire I put out was with a parent who was coaching his boys. Some spectator and the coach noted a discrepancy in the scorekeeper’s book and they began to make a scene. A giant fellow decided he would “help” me out by stepping in and trying to talk to this coach and calm him down, he just made things worse. I stopped the game and came over to the table. I asked “tiny” (who happened to be a six foot two, three hundred pound black man) to let me handle my court.
I rose my voice calmly, “Coach, I don’t really care what you think you have, or what your boys think you have. As far as I am concerned, what is in the book is final.”
The case was closed in my mind; I walked away. The game continued and the boys began to get a little rough, I wanted them to play and I knew where it was going. Again though, the coach felt it necessary to point out my game management skills.
I almost immediately called an offensive foul on a boy who threw an elbow into the defender. The coach said, “Finally!”
I immediately shot back, “Does that make ya happy coach?! Are you satisfied enough to calm down?”
He told me to watch the game, which was actually being played by the kids without me even looking at them.
I said, “Coach, your actions off the court and what you say only is reflected by your kids on the court. Zip it and let them play.”
I had a feeling of calm within me, I had stated what needed to be said and the fire within that coach was extinguished. I had several kids come up to me and say how much they loved the way I refereed. It touched me, and I stopped to talk with them to help them understand that we are all human and we all get angry over things that really are not very important at the end of the day.
Later on, I was officiating the final of that same age group with those same boys. The coach, the parents, the kids all were quiet with me…they did not say a thing to me. I can only guess that my actions in the initial game set the tone for what kind of garbage I would put up with from someone. At the end of that final, that very same coach came over to me and shook my hand and thanked me for my hard work. Sometimes people like to test your limits as a referee and as a person, they push and prod and try to elicit a response of fire within you. If you know who you are, you will always put out the fires with communication and hard work. I guess the same is true in life and love.
David
Saturday, September 11, 2004
THE EYE OF THE HURRICANE
I sometimes view the job of an official to be similar to a giant tropical storm better known as a hurricane. The elements involved are basically the same, the one hundred fifty mile an hour winds that swirl around the outside and cause the most damage are the players, fans and coaches. The “eye” of the storm is better known as the referee, and we continually must remain in the “eye” or we may get carried away.
One example from my experience occurred in the 2003-2004 season. Of all places, it took place during a game between two grade eight boys teams. The kids were great, they were playing their hearts out and my partner and I were giving them many breaks to help the game remain smooth and flowing. When suddenly, the home coach, his assistant and most notably; the fans questioned harshly one call that was made by my partner on an over-and-back. Did I mention that my partner was female?
I would like to omit the fact that my counterpart was a “she,” but unfortunately, the home coach and fans took exception and began to pick on her. I backed her up, as any partner should always do, and then the hurricane touched down in the middle of this school gym in “Smallsville” Oregon.
According to my partner, a female spectator shot her a look that was the equivalent of a death threat. She then instructed the Athletic Director (who happened to be the home coach) to ask the person to leave the gym. I stood back around the mid-court area, around the stunned players who were noticeably shaken up by the reactions of the home parents and faculty. Parents began “booing” and hissing at the job we had to do.
The woman was finally removed from the gym when the home coach began his tirade. He began to belittle and berate my partner on her call and asked me come over for my opinion. I told him I agreed with whatever call she had made and that was final. I was thinking, “Here it comes!” Boy, did it ever. As my partner walked away from the coach towards the center circle, he made a comment about her abilities in relation to her being of the fairer sex. I was standing right next to him when he blurted it out and immediately administered a technical foul.
The fans began to get more and more rowdy, the hurricane winds were picking up and I was looking for the “eye.” We got the game rolling again and I made sure to keep my partner on the far side of the coach for a while. The first technical foul is better known as the “seatbelt,” this is because when administered the coach must remain seated throughout the rest of the game. Apparently, the coach did not know this, I suspected he did with a temper like his; a technical foul seemed to be his calling in life. I reminded him of the rule and asked him to sit down.
Meanwhile, the kids were playing and mirroring their coach and parents in their reactions to calls being made. It was getting worse and the “eye” was hard to maintain with the swirling all around us. After several plays, the coach reacted again to a call my partner made.
“You’re both pathetic,” he said confidently while rising to his feet.
I immediately stood upright, hairs standing on the back of my neck and calmly said, “Technical foul on the home coach, that’s two, he’s gone.”
The scorekeeper, who I was telling this to was stunned and said, “You can’t do that.”
“Listen, if you cannot remain impartial to this game, I will just have to remove you. Mark it down, and move on.”
The coach lost it completely, he spouted all sorts of threats to call the commissioner and the board and all the regular garbage that comes out of an angry person’s mouth. I obliged him with the commissioner’s number and my name and said, “Sir, now if you’re done making a scene, you must leave this court or I will end this game now, your team will forfeit and we’ll still get paid. It’s your choice, you’ve got thirty seconds to make your decision.”
I was shaking on the inside, my hands were sweat soaked and my teeth were clenched. I was in the “eye” and I realized it for the first time, no one can touch you when you are in that zone. If you maintain control of your own faculties, you will not lose sight of the storm and you will not be drawn into it. That coach walked off that court in a hurry.
Funny, did I mention this was only the first half? Oh goodness, what a game! But you know, once that coach was removed, the visiting coach was my best friend and everyone, I mean everyone calmed down. The hurricane had left the building.
Be the eye of that storm when the stuff hits the fan,
David
One example from my experience occurred in the 2003-2004 season. Of all places, it took place during a game between two grade eight boys teams. The kids were great, they were playing their hearts out and my partner and I were giving them many breaks to help the game remain smooth and flowing. When suddenly, the home coach, his assistant and most notably; the fans questioned harshly one call that was made by my partner on an over-and-back. Did I mention that my partner was female?
I would like to omit the fact that my counterpart was a “she,” but unfortunately, the home coach and fans took exception and began to pick on her. I backed her up, as any partner should always do, and then the hurricane touched down in the middle of this school gym in “Smallsville” Oregon.
According to my partner, a female spectator shot her a look that was the equivalent of a death threat. She then instructed the Athletic Director (who happened to be the home coach) to ask the person to leave the gym. I stood back around the mid-court area, around the stunned players who were noticeably shaken up by the reactions of the home parents and faculty. Parents began “booing” and hissing at the job we had to do.
The woman was finally removed from the gym when the home coach began his tirade. He began to belittle and berate my partner on her call and asked me come over for my opinion. I told him I agreed with whatever call she had made and that was final. I was thinking, “Here it comes!” Boy, did it ever. As my partner walked away from the coach towards the center circle, he made a comment about her abilities in relation to her being of the fairer sex. I was standing right next to him when he blurted it out and immediately administered a technical foul.
The fans began to get more and more rowdy, the hurricane winds were picking up and I was looking for the “eye.” We got the game rolling again and I made sure to keep my partner on the far side of the coach for a while. The first technical foul is better known as the “seatbelt,” this is because when administered the coach must remain seated throughout the rest of the game. Apparently, the coach did not know this, I suspected he did with a temper like his; a technical foul seemed to be his calling in life. I reminded him of the rule and asked him to sit down.
Meanwhile, the kids were playing and mirroring their coach and parents in their reactions to calls being made. It was getting worse and the “eye” was hard to maintain with the swirling all around us. After several plays, the coach reacted again to a call my partner made.
“You’re both pathetic,” he said confidently while rising to his feet.
I immediately stood upright, hairs standing on the back of my neck and calmly said, “Technical foul on the home coach, that’s two, he’s gone.”
The scorekeeper, who I was telling this to was stunned and said, “You can’t do that.”
“Listen, if you cannot remain impartial to this game, I will just have to remove you. Mark it down, and move on.”
The coach lost it completely, he spouted all sorts of threats to call the commissioner and the board and all the regular garbage that comes out of an angry person’s mouth. I obliged him with the commissioner’s number and my name and said, “Sir, now if you’re done making a scene, you must leave this court or I will end this game now, your team will forfeit and we’ll still get paid. It’s your choice, you’ve got thirty seconds to make your decision.”
I was shaking on the inside, my hands were sweat soaked and my teeth were clenched. I was in the “eye” and I realized it for the first time, no one can touch you when you are in that zone. If you maintain control of your own faculties, you will not lose sight of the storm and you will not be drawn into it. That coach walked off that court in a hurry.
Funny, did I mention this was only the first half? Oh goodness, what a game! But you know, once that coach was removed, the visiting coach was my best friend and everyone, I mean everyone calmed down. The hurricane had left the building.
Be the eye of that storm when the stuff hits the fan,
David
Thursday, September 02, 2004
One of my first on-court lessons...
I want to share with you some moments from my first year of officiating in Portland. It was the 2001-2002 season, and it was nearing playoff time. In fact, there were approximately two games left for the players in the season. I was with a senior official in the association who I had had the pleasure of working with before. He and I seemed to “click” together, and the dynamic was even all around, until the fourth quarter.
It was a freshman boys game in the suburbs of Portland, between two rival schools, and it was very intense. Normally, in a game, officials are seen as “good cop, bad cop” and that was never more evident than this situation. I was the trail official, which means I was at the top of the key area, my partner was lead (down low) and the second of two free throws for the visiting team had gone into the air. I had called the initial foul that put the fellow on the free throw line, so I was already getting under some peoples skins. Having missed it, the rebound bounced out to the left of my position.
The visiting team obtained the ball and made a fake to go toward the inside of the key; the home kid took the bait. He pulled back and had the kid at his mercy for an open jump shot, which he took while fading away from the basket. While everyone seemed to turn their attention to the ball in mid-flight, we are trained to always watch the shooter until they land on the floor. This time, I was glad I had. Returning to the floor, still in the air, the kid who had been faked-out decided it was time to exact a little revenge. It came in the form of a body check, and it seemed I saw it alone. People groaned, and I began to get a little self-conscious.
This was an obvious example of a foul, but the next one was not as easy to call. This was getting really late in the game, and it was close. The Junior Varsity or “J/V” game was up next and their fans were streaming into the gym and helping to root on the freshmen. I was looking around the stands, thinking, “Damn, this place is getting packed. This is the first time you’ve had this many people in a gym to see a game you’re involved in.” I was starting to pressure myself not to screw up, and I was beginning to sweat.
The fans were chanting, chanting and the visitors, who were down by two, called a time out. My partner and I came together at half court and talked.
“You look a little worried,” he told me.
I was, and I was trying not to let it show. It only made it worse, so I remembered that I just needed to take some breaths and be myself out there.
The players were ready to go, and my partner handed the ball to the visitor at the designated spot on the sideline. I was down low, watching the jostling and pushing of the big men. The visiting center got position on his defender and made his move, faked, and took the shot. The home center waited and went for the block, and only nicked his elbow on the shooting arm. I blew the whistle immediately, and I was not prepared for what came next.
The crowd roared, stood up in unison of outrage that I had called a foul on their big guy! My left arm was in the air, my fist clenched tightly, and all of a sudden a huge smile broke across my face! I looked right at the crowd and grinned, even began to giggle a bit, and strolled to the scorer area to report the foul. People were stunned in the stands and some began laughing too! It was the only instinct I had in me to diffuse such a stressful situation. The people at the scorers table were smiling at me and from that moment onward, I knew I belonged on a basketball court as an official of this great game. At a moment so critical, I didn’t blow the call and I didn’t lose my cool over the reaction of every single person in that gym. I just was myself. That’s the lesson I want young officials to learn. You can know the rules, you can apply them as you see fit, but if you don’t know yourself then you will fail miserably under a situation filled with pressure.
This was a good learning lesson for me; although it took me all season to smile on the court and not feel self-conscious…it was worth the pain and effort of getting there. How you develop as an official is imperative and crucial to how you develop in life. I believe that this theory can be applied to almost everything that we do, whether we are doctors, laborers, or anything. If you do not love what you are doing and show that love in everything you do, then life will remain empty for you. I have a passion for writing and refereeing, and I think that comes through here and out there on the court.
Keep learning and ask questions,
David
It was a freshman boys game in the suburbs of Portland, between two rival schools, and it was very intense. Normally, in a game, officials are seen as “good cop, bad cop” and that was never more evident than this situation. I was the trail official, which means I was at the top of the key area, my partner was lead (down low) and the second of two free throws for the visiting team had gone into the air. I had called the initial foul that put the fellow on the free throw line, so I was already getting under some peoples skins. Having missed it, the rebound bounced out to the left of my position.
The visiting team obtained the ball and made a fake to go toward the inside of the key; the home kid took the bait. He pulled back and had the kid at his mercy for an open jump shot, which he took while fading away from the basket. While everyone seemed to turn their attention to the ball in mid-flight, we are trained to always watch the shooter until they land on the floor. This time, I was glad I had. Returning to the floor, still in the air, the kid who had been faked-out decided it was time to exact a little revenge. It came in the form of a body check, and it seemed I saw it alone. People groaned, and I began to get a little self-conscious.
This was an obvious example of a foul, but the next one was not as easy to call. This was getting really late in the game, and it was close. The Junior Varsity or “J/V” game was up next and their fans were streaming into the gym and helping to root on the freshmen. I was looking around the stands, thinking, “Damn, this place is getting packed. This is the first time you’ve had this many people in a gym to see a game you’re involved in.” I was starting to pressure myself not to screw up, and I was beginning to sweat.
The fans were chanting, chanting and the visitors, who were down by two, called a time out. My partner and I came together at half court and talked.
“You look a little worried,” he told me.
I was, and I was trying not to let it show. It only made it worse, so I remembered that I just needed to take some breaths and be myself out there.
The players were ready to go, and my partner handed the ball to the visitor at the designated spot on the sideline. I was down low, watching the jostling and pushing of the big men. The visiting center got position on his defender and made his move, faked, and took the shot. The home center waited and went for the block, and only nicked his elbow on the shooting arm. I blew the whistle immediately, and I was not prepared for what came next.
The crowd roared, stood up in unison of outrage that I had called a foul on their big guy! My left arm was in the air, my fist clenched tightly, and all of a sudden a huge smile broke across my face! I looked right at the crowd and grinned, even began to giggle a bit, and strolled to the scorer area to report the foul. People were stunned in the stands and some began laughing too! It was the only instinct I had in me to diffuse such a stressful situation. The people at the scorers table were smiling at me and from that moment onward, I knew I belonged on a basketball court as an official of this great game. At a moment so critical, I didn’t blow the call and I didn’t lose my cool over the reaction of every single person in that gym. I just was myself. That’s the lesson I want young officials to learn. You can know the rules, you can apply them as you see fit, but if you don’t know yourself then you will fail miserably under a situation filled with pressure.
This was a good learning lesson for me; although it took me all season to smile on the court and not feel self-conscious…it was worth the pain and effort of getting there. How you develop as an official is imperative and crucial to how you develop in life. I believe that this theory can be applied to almost everything that we do, whether we are doctors, laborers, or anything. If you do not love what you are doing and show that love in everything you do, then life will remain empty for you. I have a passion for writing and refereeing, and I think that comes through here and out there on the court.
Keep learning and ask questions,
David
Friday, August 27, 2004
An open letter to the reader...
Dear Reader,
The purpose of this site is to give insight into the goings on of a referee. That is correct, the person that you, as the fan, player or otherwise, tend to despise as a common rule. Perhaps an understanding of the education process that all referees must go through in order to officiate your children, nephews, nieces, etc within associations may help with this stigma.
I personally officiate basketball, first and foremost. My love of the game comes from a country that is not even seen as a power in the sport. In fact, Canada (where I originate from) is dominant in hockey and this dominance is shown within the Canadian media. Growing up in Canada before the NBA ever showed up on the doorstep, it was difficult to not be drawn into the passion the rest of the country possessed for a sport I had a hell of a time playing. Basketball came naturally to me, and officiating has come even more easily. However, it takes more work than most people outside of officiating would care to admit. It takes a special brand of person to put up with abuse, constant questioning of personal integrity....and that is just the beginning of the hardships of a growing official.
I have been in the local Portland, Oregon high school association for the past two years. Despite my experience in my homeland, I had to start out at the bottom here, and have had a blast learning all over again from a different point of view. Though the sport was invented by a Canadian, the two brother countries have different systems and I dare say styles. My officiating is similiar to the neutrality of my country in world issues. I want no part of conflict, but I will not put up with rules being broken so that the fabric of a game can fade into a dangerous void. As long as you have a mission statement as an official, you have a plan, and most people do not care what that is. Sadly though, if officials do not take their jobs seriously, injuries can occur in a game, tempers can flare, people can just lose their heads. With a true understanding of what an official does to grow, I hope that this web site can create an empathy that helps us to do our jobs with integrity and dignity and thus preserve the game for which it was originally invented, as a distraction from the mundane weather of wintertime.
You will follow me through my third season as I attempt to gain acceptance into the local association and membership. This is a long process, a lot of hard work, and a little luck. I hope that you enjoy the ride, and ask questions as they may come to you. I want to create harmony in this game and it starts with the officials and the way we allow the game to be conducted within the confines of the rules. Balance is the most important thing in life, adapting to change as it comes and moving onward...such is life and such is the game of basketball.
Sincerely,
David Smith
The purpose of this site is to give insight into the goings on of a referee. That is correct, the person that you, as the fan, player or otherwise, tend to despise as a common rule. Perhaps an understanding of the education process that all referees must go through in order to officiate your children, nephews, nieces, etc within associations may help with this stigma.
I personally officiate basketball, first and foremost. My love of the game comes from a country that is not even seen as a power in the sport. In fact, Canada (where I originate from) is dominant in hockey and this dominance is shown within the Canadian media. Growing up in Canada before the NBA ever showed up on the doorstep, it was difficult to not be drawn into the passion the rest of the country possessed for a sport I had a hell of a time playing. Basketball came naturally to me, and officiating has come even more easily. However, it takes more work than most people outside of officiating would care to admit. It takes a special brand of person to put up with abuse, constant questioning of personal integrity....and that is just the beginning of the hardships of a growing official.
I have been in the local Portland, Oregon high school association for the past two years. Despite my experience in my homeland, I had to start out at the bottom here, and have had a blast learning all over again from a different point of view. Though the sport was invented by a Canadian, the two brother countries have different systems and I dare say styles. My officiating is similiar to the neutrality of my country in world issues. I want no part of conflict, but I will not put up with rules being broken so that the fabric of a game can fade into a dangerous void. As long as you have a mission statement as an official, you have a plan, and most people do not care what that is. Sadly though, if officials do not take their jobs seriously, injuries can occur in a game, tempers can flare, people can just lose their heads. With a true understanding of what an official does to grow, I hope that this web site can create an empathy that helps us to do our jobs with integrity and dignity and thus preserve the game for which it was originally invented, as a distraction from the mundane weather of wintertime.
You will follow me through my third season as I attempt to gain acceptance into the local association and membership. This is a long process, a lot of hard work, and a little luck. I hope that you enjoy the ride, and ask questions as they may come to you. I want to create harmony in this game and it starts with the officials and the way we allow the game to be conducted within the confines of the rules. Balance is the most important thing in life, adapting to change as it comes and moving onward...such is life and such is the game of basketball.
Sincerely,
David Smith
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