Survival of the Fittest
Tell people that you officiate and you may hear, “There’s no way I’d do that,” or “What’s the matter? Don’t you get yelled at enough at home?”There’s no question that it’s a jungle out there.
There is an almost trite saying that goes, “There is no teacher like experience.” When it comes to pulling on the stripes, there is truth in that. In reality, most of what officials call “experience” is another tool in your “Official’s Survival Kit.” Let’s take a look at what should be in there.
Experience. Experience is indeed the best teacher when it comes to being a good official. There is a reason you work those youth and sub-varsity games early in your careers: You regularly see things at lower levels that it might take years to see at the varsity or collegiate levels. Crazy plays with unforeseeable outcomes that stretch your knowledge of the rules give you a bag full of experience that goes beyond clinics or rules meetings. Officials who serve as mentors often cite that as a bonus for working with new officials.The other side of the coin is the experience you gain dealing with coaches and players after a tough or unusual play. Being able to communicate what you saw and what you called is critical. Call it growth or development if you prefer. Whatever term you use, the most important survival tool for the official is experience.
Confidence. Confidence is an outgrowth of experience and is a necessary attribute of upward mobility as an official. The more experience you gain, the more your confidence grows. The more your confidence grows, the better you become at handling tough plays. When you are observed exhibiting those attributes, promotion won’t be far behind.
Imagine a coach watching as an official desperately searches for help from partners after a banger. Whether the call goes for or against his or her team is irrelevant: He or she knows the next call by an insecure official could cost the team.
Rules study goes with experience in building confidence. Working with partners you trust helps, too. Good posture, signals and eye contact along with a strong voice and whistle all exhibit your comfort level in officiating.
Attitude. Some officials show up wishing they were someplace else or feeling they’re working a game beneath their skills. It won’t be long before their attitudes lead to a weak call, blown interpretation or a confrontation.
If you take a game, you owe it to all involved to give it your best effort. The saying, “The game you’re working is the most important game in the world that day to those players,” is true. It should be true for officials as well. Your positive attitude will give everyone a better impression of you.
Next time you’re preparing for a game, after you’ve checked your equipment and uniform, make sure you’ve also packed your experience, confidence and attitude. They are your most important survival skills.
Written by Dave Sabaini, a freelance writer and official who lives in Terre Haute, Ind. This article originally appeared in the 6/05 issue of Referee.
We Played Football on 9/11
By Tim Sloan
I wasn’t really listening to the DJ.
I had a hundred things on my mind as I pulled into work at my job in Decatur, Ala., that late summer morning. I had been transferred to our sister facility in Illinois the week before and I was pondering the details of what lay ahead. Basically, I had eight weeks to sell a house, find a house, buy a house and move a family to a place four states away.
As I reached to turn off the radio, the DJ’s suddenly serious voice caught my attention. “An airplane has just struck the World Trade Center.”
My first thought was of the plane that had accidentally hit the fog-shrouded Empire State Building years ago and I told myself it must have been an accident. So I turned off the radio, gathered my equipment bag and headed into my office. To go with all my other ulcers, I had a middle school football game that night in Russellville, about 45 minutes away near the Mississippi line.
It was about a five-minute process to get settled in and fire up my computer. By the time Yahoo! came up, the news was now about a second airplane. I walked over to one of the conference rooms and two or three people were already gathered around a TV with that look on their faces. I spent the next few hours watching the world change forever, wondering who the SOBs were that could imagine a stunt like this.
By lunchtime, with professional leagues postponing games, I figured there’d be no way we were going to Russellville either. Just to make sure, however, I called Coach Swindall and asked him what the plan was. Life goes on, he said.
We played football on 9/11.
The other four officials and I drove out along Alabama 24 that afternoon, but it wasn’t the usual pregame conversation. The radio was updating the horrible events, of course, and I remember that we spent the hour talking about investing or something; almost like it was as much wrong to talk football as it would be capitulative to admit horror at what we’d witnessed all day.
The players, in grades seven and eight, surprised me by being so upbeat. Maybe the best thing anybody could have been that day was a 13-year-old anticipating his first football game. During the national anthem, even though I’m Canadian, I always place my hand over my heart and say a little prayer after the first line is sung. It was longer that day.
I wore the white hat for the first game and the kicker nearly whiffed the opening kickoff. One of the receivers’ linemen scooped up the feeble effort and ran it back all the way, untouched, to make it 6-0 after nine seconds. Here we go, I remember thinking. But like everything else that day, it turned out differently. Nobody scored another point in two games.
In an almost surreal way, the event became a celebration. Being at the game meant you didn’t have to be watching TV. But more important was that it was like people realized they were participating in something they had been intended to eschew. Nobody looked sideways at anybody and, after the game, the handshakes player to player and coach to official could have crushed diamonds.
Yeah, a middle school football game set against the backdrop of horrifying history is a little thing. But America is made on the little things. When Perry Swindall wanted to play football that day, my first impulse was to want to wring his heartless neck when I saw him. Several hours later, it was apparent that his heart was actually a size or two bigger than mine. And mine was fixing to grow. Our best hours always rise from our worst. And life goes on
Tim Sloan lives in Bettendorf, Iowa, and referee high school football and basketball. This originally appeared in the 9/06 issue of Referee.
August Poll Results:
More and more local associations are incorporating the latest technology into their training programs. Which response is MOST indicative of your experience?
NASO members said:
40% My association uses SOME technology in our training program, periodically employing video, PowerPoints and/or online resources.
27% My association uses A LOT of technology in our training program, regularly employing video, PowerPoints and/or online resources.
26% My association RARELY uses technology in our training program, infrequently employing video, PowerPoints and/or online resources.
7% My association NEVER uses technology in our training program; we have never used any video, PowerPoints and/or online resources.