There are so many fun things about refereeing high school basketball (and the levels below that), that I hardly know where to begin the list. I’m not being sarcastic or ironic when I say that. I’m serious. The positives of officiating a sport FAR outweigh the negatives.
This past season, I had a high school varsity basketball officiating assignment in Nowheresville, WI. Suffice to say that the high school population barely topped 100 students and the population of the town in the 2010 census was 1,123. Small town stuff.
When you enter a smaller community, you drive back in time. You slow down, look around, pay attention to the downtown of a law office, two bars, three abandoned buildings, maybe a bank and a feed store. You often have to go to the gas station for minimal groceries. You drink it all in as you drive the one square block commercial strip. It reminds you of yesteryear in a good way and a sad way.
People wave. They stroll. They don’t hurry. You can find the high school without a map, because somewhere on one of the streets, there’s a big sign telling you where it is, or you see the lights of the football field.
The Athletic Director (AD) greets you with an oversized smile, a powerful handshake and a big clap on the back. “Good to see ya again. Let me show you to the locker room. What would you like to drink at half time? Would you like some popcorn or something else from the concession stand after the game?,” he asks. A cooler with three bottles of water are iced down and ready when we enter the locker room.
Those are niceties. What follows next is a cool thing, something you wouldn’t consider, something that makes me think referees bring something good to those types of communities, and unexpected.
Two middle school boys greet me with HUGE smiles as I head back to the court to watch the JV game. They nudge each other, clearly enthralled to see the BIG town referee coming to their gym.
“Where ya from?,” one asks excitedly.
“Outside Milwaukee,” I respond.
One nudges the other, “I told ya.”
“What’s it like there?,” he asks.
I ponder this one. What do you tell a kid this age about your own community, which though bigger and having more services and up-to-date businesses, doesn’t differ in basic structure from his small town?
I defer the question and talk about some of the games I’ve reffed that year, what the players were like – size, speed, intensity of the games. They listen, rapt, eyes large.
They poke each other repeatedly, giggling and posing other questions one wants the other to ask me. It’s amusing watching and listening to them as I realize they don’t get this type of opportunity often. It really is a big deal for them to chat with me.
And, during this interaction, I much more fully recognize the nature of being an ambassador. Everywhere you go, you have the opportunity to touch people. You can make that experience positive or negative. As a basketball official (and human), I choose the positive path, and I extol to these two young boys the joys of officiating, how you get to travel and see new places. I encourage them to referee basketball. They nod their heads as I get up and walk to the locker to change into my uniform. I hope to see them one day on the court with a whistle.
This past season, I had a high school varsity basketball officiating assignment in Nowheresville, WI. Suffice to say that the high school population barely topped 100 students and the population of the town in the 2010 census was 1,123. Small town stuff.
When you enter a smaller community, you drive back in time. You slow down, look around, pay attention to the downtown of a law office, two bars, three abandoned buildings, maybe a bank and a feed store. You often have to go to the gas station for minimal groceries. You drink it all in as you drive the one square block commercial strip. It reminds you of yesteryear in a good way and a sad way.
People wave. They stroll. They don’t hurry. You can find the high school without a map, because somewhere on one of the streets, there’s a big sign telling you where it is, or you see the lights of the football field.
The Athletic Director (AD) greets you with an oversized smile, a powerful handshake and a big clap on the back. “Good to see ya again. Let me show you to the locker room. What would you like to drink at half time? Would you like some popcorn or something else from the concession stand after the game?,” he asks. A cooler with three bottles of water are iced down and ready when we enter the locker room.
Those are niceties. What follows next is a cool thing, something you wouldn’t consider, something that makes me think referees bring something good to those types of communities, and unexpected.
Two middle school boys greet me with HUGE smiles as I head back to the court to watch the JV game. They nudge each other, clearly enthralled to see the BIG town referee coming to their gym.
“Where ya from?,” one asks excitedly.
“Outside Milwaukee,” I respond.
One nudges the other, “I told ya.”
“What’s it like there?,” he asks.
I ponder this one. What do you tell a kid this age about your own community, which though bigger and having more services and up-to-date businesses, doesn’t differ in basic structure from his small town?
I defer the question and talk about some of the games I’ve reffed that year, what the players were like – size, speed, intensity of the games. They listen, rapt, eyes large.
They poke each other repeatedly, giggling and posing other questions one wants the other to ask me. It’s amusing watching and listening to them as I realize they don’t get this type of opportunity often. It really is a big deal for them to chat with me.
And, during this interaction, I much more fully recognize the nature of being an ambassador. Everywhere you go, you have the opportunity to touch people. You can make that experience positive or negative. As a basketball official (and human), I choose the positive path, and I extol to these two young boys the joys of officiating, how you get to travel and see new places. I encourage them to referee basketball. They nod their heads as I get up and walk to the locker to change into my uniform. I hope to see them one day on the court with a whistle.