I was sitting in a stateline high school’s gym earlier this month, preparing for a basketball broadcast. The sophomore game was in the second half.
In between rustling through notes, and making sure all my cords and cables were squared away, I looked up to catch a home team guard sprinting down the lane trying to catch the other team in transition. A defender slid in and attempted to take a charge. It was a nasty collision. The ref on the baseline was slow to get into position and awarded the shooter two free throws, even thought it appeared the defender had his feet set and shoulders still. “Oh no..” I muttered.
The call was missed, and parents were mad. Their child put his body in harm’s way and didn’t get the reward of that inimitable cheer from the crowd when someone forces an offensive foul. How would this wrong ever be righted? Luckily, one hero raised his voice to call out the inequity.
“Hey ref! I didn’t know marijuana was legal yet in Illinois!”
The whole gym had heard the undeniably creative heckle, and chuckles broke out throughout the crowd. But #SportsParents are like your average second grader: if you laugh at their misbehavior, they’re going to take it way too far. For the final five minutes of the game, this bastion of officiating justice made this ref’s life hell. Every call he made was accompanied by some commentary. Each time, the tenor of the remarks was darker and harsher. I felt bad for the ref, but I felt terrible for whatever player had to watch as their parent made the whole contest about himself.
What causes otherwise normal and affable people to turn so nasty over not just the results of the game, but rather the results of plays within the game?
My question was answered Sunday afternoon, as boos were raining down inside the Superdome in New Orleans. Refs had blatantly missed a pass-interference call that, if made, most likely would have sent the Saints to the Super Bowl. Fans created memes that went viral on social media; football pundits pontificated from their ivory towers; and everyone agreed that the refs had ruined the game.
We seem to have forgotten exactly what we, at the highest levels of sports, have asked these individuals to do. We’re talking about mammoth human beings who run 4.4 40-yard dashes sprinting around you, and you’re supposed to decipher in real time when exactly they come into contact, where their hands and feet are at at all times, and wether they did anything after the play that the rule book deems “unsportsmanlike.” Oh, and there’s 70,000-plus people screaming at you while you do it.
Meanwhile we sit in our comfortable couches with an aerial view and slow motion replay, and complain when any call is mishandled. Now, pro sport refs are at the height of their profession, and they are certainly not above criticism. This weekend’s games were proof that, with so much at stake, we need to have more failsafes in place to protect results from being heavily impacted by one or two flags. However, we have to rid ourselves of the delusion that it’s possible for refs to “get it right” 100% of the time. It’s a ludicrous proposition.
Which takes us back to that half-full high school gym. Our resident comedian in the stands wasn’t really yelling at that IHSA ref at all. He was using the guy collecting the $50 check as a stand-in for all the NBA refs he’s screamed at through the TV. See, those refs couldn’t hear him, and his twitter storms on the issues shockingly never went viral. So now the guy in the stripes had to listen, and God-forbid he leave there not knowing the full extent of not just his sins, but those of every ref to ever make a bad call.
This conflation of officials permeates through every level. I’ve seen parents removed from 6th grade hoops games for not being able to contain their displeasure with a shooting foul. I’m not doubting that Duke sent a scout to watch little Jimmy double dribble all day, but I highly doubt that one foul was what cost him his scholarship.
So parents, the next time there’s a penalty called against your son or daughter, save your voice. We all saw it, and no one’s happy about it. You’re embarrassing yourself, the school, and most of all, your kid. Train yourself by being more calm on Sundays. Consider how well you would do if you were asked to perform the job. Even though you carry yourself as an expert, you might not bat 1,000.
– Jake Logli, SportsFan 1330