Four Weeks (Part Ten)

November 18, 2008, 1:30 pm; posted by
Filed under Articles, Featured, Steve  | 2 Comments

Read the saga in parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Or read the complete, uninterrupted series here.

Intent and Purpose of the Rules: The Game
Basketball is played by two teams of five players each. The purpose of each team is to throw the ball into its own basket and to prevent the other team from scoring.

By the time I made it to the basketball camp that would serve as the final stop on my four-week sojourn, it was already mid-Thursday. It was the first time in four years or so that I hadn’t been around for the whole week, and I immediately noticed a problem: the college-age coaches were officiating.

I didn’t care that they weren’t very good, or that they were lazy. The problem was that by starting the week responsible for officiating, they had gotten the idea that they knew what they were doing. And what’s more dangerous than people who think they know what they’re doing?

Rule 2, Section 7: Officials’ General Duties
The officials shall conduct the game in accordance with the rules.

High school basketball is like prison. Lots of rules to follow, big guys tend to dominate — and everyone’s innocent. Just ask them.

Officiating is a good job for me. I love justice, I hate mistakes, and I have a thorough confidence in my judgment. Most importantly for my mental health, if you don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t care what you think.

Officials are never popular. When you notice an official, you’re probably disagreeing with him or her. And when you disagree, you’re probably wrong. Not always — I certainly make mistakes — but probably. See, I studied the rules for three months, scored 98 on the test when the average fan would be lucky to break 50, and am never more than a few feet away from the play. I know what I’m talking about, and I don’t want to hear you loudly display your ignorance — especially when I’m volunteering at a church camp.

And so I ate alone.

Rule 4, Section 9, Article 1: Boundary Lines
Boundary lines of the court consist of end lines and sidelines.

Friday night brought more complications. Awakened by a hallway ruckus, I opened the door and leapt out to grab . . . my sister, running in formation through the guys’ dorm at the strict Bible school she hoped to attend in a month. I ordered the ladies to leave, only to be yelled at in the manner which had quickly become the norm from some coaches. I was not at my best and aptly, if inappropriately, returned fire.

I soon learned that the worst on-court offender (a tattooed, tank-topped ex-jock I’ll call “the Diva” for his foot-stomping tantrums) had actually helped incite the girls’ invasion. Back in my room, I heard the guys next door recount how the “doofy” ref had “flipped out” on the girls before they heroically told him off. At least they had the excuse of youth. Where were the adults? Who were the adults?

Rule 10, Section 4, Article 1: Bench Technical
Bench personnel shall not commit an unsporting foul.
This includes, but is not limited to, acts or conduct such as disrespectfully addressing an official . . .

The championship game was Saturday, and it pit the Diva’s team, undefeated but with a great player missing, against a team with only one loss. As the game stayed tight down the stretch, tensions rose. I called a foul against the Diva’s team and awarded two free throws.

Suddenly there he was, storming down the sideline, foaming at the mouth, demanding an audience. I briefly listened to him rant, but then told him he couldn’t do it again unless he wanted a technical. The next time he wanted to talk to me, he would have to call time out.

Rule 4, Section 7, Article 2(a): Charging
A player who is moving with the ball is required to stop or change direction to avoid contact if a defensive player has obtained a legal guarding position in his/her path.

After a timing error was corrected in the Diva’s favor, allowing his team to force overtime, his opponents took the lead. His point guard brought the ball down the right side of the court with his head down and plowed through an opponent who had slid into position in front of him.

Charging.

The Diva went ballistic. He called time out, then followed me out on the court to argue. He complained to the camp director (my co-official) that the call had not been mine to make, then commenced attacking my integrity, at one point actually calling me a liar. I am not known for extraordinary restraint. Only respect for the director and the players on the Diva’s team kept me from issuing a technical foul.

Rule 5, Section 3: Winning Team
The winning team is the one which has accumulated the greater number of points when the game ends.

The game came down to the last play — the Diva’s squad down two with seven seconds to go. One of his best players brought the ball down the floor, drove down the right side of the lane, and leaped into traffic in an attempt to draw a foul as he shot. He was not fouled. He missed the shot.

The teams shook hands and I thanked the coaches. The Diva scoffed at me. “You screwed us,” he told me.

Turning his back, he called out to the director: “You should have known better than to get a lawyer as a ref. Thanks a lot.” I sat through the awards ceremony, overlooked by the directors in the “Thank you” portion of the remarks, then loaded my car for the ride home. My vacation was clearly over.

But I was glad. It was time to return to reality, with all its disappointments, disillusionments, misunderstandings, and monotonies. Life is not lived in a series of joyous reunions, stays so brief that the surface remains blissfully unbroken. It’s in the 2 a.m. screaming match; it’s in the response to passionate, competitive anger; it’s in the constant reminders that we were not made to be fulfilled on this earth.

And I obviously had — have — much more yet to learn.


Comments

2 Comments to “Four Weeks (Part Ten)”

  1. Connie Maxon on November 19th, 2008 7:53 am

    This was quite simply -amazing.

  2. Sarah on December 14th, 2008 7:36 pm

    Okay, okay, okay. You make me sound like a jerk because you ate by yourself… and you make it sound like I was sneaking around in the boy’s dorms without permission. The female leader of the camp allowed us to go in after they had stink-bombed our room… Also The Diva was snotty to me, but you never mentioned that. Hmm, I don’t think I was paying much attention to the game, and even if I were I wouldn’t remember many details so I’ll let the rest slide. And not tell the guy that “charged” or charged to look at this.

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