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
Saturday, September 18, 2004
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
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