I had work tonight--and they really made me work for my paycheck. For all those inquiring readers out there who didn't already know, I am a basketball official for Provo City Basketball. I call the shots, or the fouls, rather. The players' sarcasm is unrelenting, the arguing is tiresome, and the power is sometimes abused (if we're honest). I had the opportunity tonight to exercise the most serious call/penalty a referee can make. I called..a technical foul.
The game was out of hand, no one--let alone the man in the stripes--was going to calm down the aggressions of these highly tuned athletes (one of them was 5'5'', 400 pounds, and didn't have a muscle on him). As unkind words were exchanged between players on opposing teams, I extended a warning to a particularly offensive hothead and told him that a technical would be his if he continued his behavior. I smirked at my word choice, and joined the rest of the game back on the court. With :30 seconds left in the game, I heard from the sideline, faintly as if on the wind, the cursings and bantings of said player. I walked up to him, placed whetted whistle in mouth, and blew his cursings into obscurity. I did my best NBA referee impersonation and created the letter "T" with two perpendicularly colliding hands, and added a little hop to my skip. I felt like a movie star. Team one erupted, while team two added words of approval to my call. I treaded softly and quietly as I left the gym tonight, with one eye on the dark corners of the parking lot and the other focused on what self-defense moves I might use if team one was seen by eye #1.
I love the little stories people have in their lives. I am certain that's why I like blogs so much. It is the common man's recounting of his humble stories. Enjoy my stories, world. And keep entertaining me with yours. I'll report my news tomorrow once my future is set! (or once my plans solidify).