Monday, July 5, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
A Day in the Life- Reffing
I needed money.
$1060, specifically. I needed it by the first weeks of summer so I could go to Sports Broadcasting Camp in July. Big money, especially if you are an eighth grader who isn't allowed to get a work permit.
Instead of working retail, I decided to become a referee for a local recreational inline hockey league I played in. There were four divisions- 8U, 10U, 13U, and 18U. I'd only been playing since I was eleven and was taught to play in 13U. Players from 18U reffed our games; usually the same two guys everytime. Our league was like a family. If you hung out at the rink enough, you started to know everybody. It was great.
I asked my mom if I could ref. She said yes. I went to the classes, bought a whistle and was soon assigned to ref a few 8U games a week, maybe a 10U game if I got lucky.
My first season I made a few errors but I learned. It was a trial-and-error experience. I might miss a call here or there or be at the wrong end of the rink. By the spring season, I was doing much better.
Reffing is fun. I'm not going to bother thinking of a better word for 'fun'. It simply is fun. Let me run through a day in the life of a ref.
10:30- I wake up to my mother telling me I have a game at noon and need to wake up, shower and get dressed. I go back to sleep.
11:25- I'm running around at the last minute trying to find my hockey pants. Turns out they were in a laundry basket in my brother's room. I hastily grab them and a water bottle and run out the door.
11:38- I pull up to the rink and grab my stick, helmet, pants and whistle. My mom drives off and doesn't bother watching me ref, which I'm cool with. The one time I allowed her to stay, she had her phone out taking pictures of me that probably ended up on her Facebook. Hey, at least I wasn't tagged standing there like a zebra on skates.
11:42- I'm in the equipment shed. This early in the morning, there might be a game going on, but it depends. If there is, I eavesdrop on the hockey moms. If there isn't, I hurry to get ready so I can skate on the empty rink.
11:49- I'm sitting in the shed with a kid in a green uniform. We're eating candy. There was a giant bag of candy I found next to the toolbox. He gives me all the good candy. He eats the stuff I don't like. By the time his dad has come and found us eating, his kid is on a sugar high and I'm stuffing candy in my pockets to eat between intermissions.
11:54- It's around this time that I am being told to get out onto the rink because they're starting in six minutes. In case these hockey mom's didn't get the memo, I'm the referee. The game can't start without me. But in order to get my $10 I drag myself out there. Teams are in warm-ups. I recognize the coach's kid from reffing, grab my stick, and start playing with him.
11:58- After being scolded by the coaches, I blow my whistle and yell "TWO MINUTES!" meaning they have two more minutes of warm-ups. They never listen.
11:59- I'm over at the parents side, trying to scrape up a scorekeeper. Finally, a half bald man who doesn't know a thing about hockey volunteers.
12:01- The puck should've dropped by now, but I was too busy explaining how to keep score to baldie. Then I had to get game pucks. My fellow referee, a kid who used to be on my team, mumbles this is only his second game reffing, so I have to be head ref. I make baldie keep time and proceed to center with a puck. I point to the goalie on the right side of the rink. It's standard to make sure they're ready. "GOALIE READY?" I yell. He raises his stick. I turn to my left. "GOALIE READY?" He is off looking at the soccer fields to his left. I repeat myself. He doesn't answer. I mumble, put my whistle in my mouth, and drop the puck. It got hit to the boards.
First Period- Two goals score, one by the green team, one by the blue team. I wasn't really looking when blue scored, so all I know is #79 scored. Assist? When in doubt, say there wasn't one.
First Intermission- I blow my whistle, and yell "PERIOD!". I start the clock for two minutes. Depending on the other ref, I might take my stick and shoot around. I start playing with the puck and shoot like Wayne Gretzky. Satisfied with looking like a total show-off, I skate back to the scorekeepers table to check time. With thirteen seconds to spare, I skate around and blow my whistle to indicate the intermission is up. Thirty (patient) seconds later, blue is still on the bench. I skate over, coach tells me to wait a second. Two minutes later, we're dropping the puck. That is after standing at center ice, waiting for blue and talking to a kid named Davey. Davey is my personal favorite. He doesn't stop talking so I make him put my mouth guard in.
Second Period- I played baseball for a lot of my childhood. Parents can be horrible at baseball. Not mine, but other parents and coaches. This doesn't happen at hockey, although sometimes this one coach chides me. I ignore it, because techniqually I am in charge. (NOTE: Ugly email about quality of reffing sent out a few days later. Love you too, Mr. Blue Coach)
Second period isn't too shabby, although I'm hungry. All I hear in my mind is J'ai hyper faim. J'ai hyper faim. Je voudrais un omlette. That's French for "I'm very hungry, I'm very hungry. I want an omlette."
Second Intermission- I blow the whistle and skate to get the puck. Davey decides to play around with it. He starts skating away from me and dumps it in a corner all the way at the other end. He laughs and his coach doesn't even notice. So not worth $10.
Third Period- We start a little more timely as I realize in fourteen minutes I'll be getting paid. It's more of the same; eight year olds skating and falling over and shoving each other. The green goalie starts crying because the other team scored four goals in about five minutes. I crouch down and talk to him. He wants me to send all the kids who scored on him to the sin bin. I can't help but smile.
The rest of the third goes rather smoothly and it's enlightened when I notice one of the green players pretending he's a dinosaur. Everytime he got near the puck, he made dino sounds. I have a new favorite.
It's almost the end of the game. I'm near the center line, closer to green bench. I notice Davey standing on the other side of the boards, banging on the door to the bench. "Knock, knock!" He taunts. I laugh.
1:03- I blow my whistle and yell, "GAME!" indicating the end of the game. I stand on the ice and make sure they shake hands. I skate over to green coach and awkwardly ask for my ten dollars. He asks me if Davey was being annoying. I tell him about the knock-knock thing and skate back to the equipment shed. I start changing back into basketball shorts, old baseball shirt, and hat because my hair is disgusting from skating and sweating under my helmet. Davey walks by. He sticks his tongue out. Eventually I find my mom's car, stick my hockey stuff in the back and take shotgun. I still hear J'ai hyper faim, j'ai hyper faim, j'ai hyper faim in my head. We stop at 7-11 and it's all good.....until I find out I have to be back at the rink for a 5:00 10U game, which sucks, because the kids all know I'm only two or three years older and they actually skate and shoot and trip.
MORE "A DAY IN THE LIFE" POSTS TO FOLLOW
$1060, specifically. I needed it by the first weeks of summer so I could go to Sports Broadcasting Camp in July. Big money, especially if you are an eighth grader who isn't allowed to get a work permit.
Instead of working retail, I decided to become a referee for a local recreational inline hockey league I played in. There were four divisions- 8U, 10U, 13U, and 18U. I'd only been playing since I was eleven and was taught to play in 13U. Players from 18U reffed our games; usually the same two guys everytime. Our league was like a family. If you hung out at the rink enough, you started to know everybody. It was great.
I asked my mom if I could ref. She said yes. I went to the classes, bought a whistle and was soon assigned to ref a few 8U games a week, maybe a 10U game if I got lucky.
My first season I made a few errors but I learned. It was a trial-and-error experience. I might miss a call here or there or be at the wrong end of the rink. By the spring season, I was doing much better.
Reffing is fun. I'm not going to bother thinking of a better word for 'fun'. It simply is fun. Let me run through a day in the life of a ref.
10:30- I wake up to my mother telling me I have a game at noon and need to wake up, shower and get dressed. I go back to sleep.
11:25- I'm running around at the last minute trying to find my hockey pants. Turns out they were in a laundry basket in my brother's room. I hastily grab them and a water bottle and run out the door.
11:38- I pull up to the rink and grab my stick, helmet, pants and whistle. My mom drives off and doesn't bother watching me ref, which I'm cool with. The one time I allowed her to stay, she had her phone out taking pictures of me that probably ended up on her Facebook. Hey, at least I wasn't tagged standing there like a zebra on skates.
11:42- I'm in the equipment shed. This early in the morning, there might be a game going on, but it depends. If there is, I eavesdrop on the hockey moms. If there isn't, I hurry to get ready so I can skate on the empty rink.
11:49- I'm sitting in the shed with a kid in a green uniform. We're eating candy. There was a giant bag of candy I found next to the toolbox. He gives me all the good candy. He eats the stuff I don't like. By the time his dad has come and found us eating, his kid is on a sugar high and I'm stuffing candy in my pockets to eat between intermissions.
11:54- It's around this time that I am being told to get out onto the rink because they're starting in six minutes. In case these hockey mom's didn't get the memo, I'm the referee. The game can't start without me. But in order to get my $10 I drag myself out there. Teams are in warm-ups. I recognize the coach's kid from reffing, grab my stick, and start playing with him.
11:58- After being scolded by the coaches, I blow my whistle and yell "TWO MINUTES!" meaning they have two more minutes of warm-ups. They never listen.
11:59- I'm over at the parents side, trying to scrape up a scorekeeper. Finally, a half bald man who doesn't know a thing about hockey volunteers.
12:01- The puck should've dropped by now, but I was too busy explaining how to keep score to baldie. Then I had to get game pucks. My fellow referee, a kid who used to be on my team, mumbles this is only his second game reffing, so I have to be head ref. I make baldie keep time and proceed to center with a puck. I point to the goalie on the right side of the rink. It's standard to make sure they're ready. "GOALIE READY?" I yell. He raises his stick. I turn to my left. "GOALIE READY?" He is off looking at the soccer fields to his left. I repeat myself. He doesn't answer. I mumble, put my whistle in my mouth, and drop the puck. It got hit to the boards.
First Period- Two goals score, one by the green team, one by the blue team. I wasn't really looking when blue scored, so all I know is #79 scored. Assist? When in doubt, say there wasn't one.
First Intermission- I blow my whistle, and yell "PERIOD!". I start the clock for two minutes. Depending on the other ref, I might take my stick and shoot around. I start playing with the puck and shoot like Wayne Gretzky. Satisfied with looking like a total show-off, I skate back to the scorekeepers table to check time. With thirteen seconds to spare, I skate around and blow my whistle to indicate the intermission is up. Thirty (patient) seconds later, blue is still on the bench. I skate over, coach tells me to wait a second. Two minutes later, we're dropping the puck. That is after standing at center ice, waiting for blue and talking to a kid named Davey. Davey is my personal favorite. He doesn't stop talking so I make him put my mouth guard in.
Second Period- I played baseball for a lot of my childhood. Parents can be horrible at baseball. Not mine, but other parents and coaches. This doesn't happen at hockey, although sometimes this one coach chides me. I ignore it, because techniqually I am in charge. (NOTE: Ugly email about quality of reffing sent out a few days later. Love you too, Mr. Blue Coach)
Second period isn't too shabby, although I'm hungry. All I hear in my mind is J'ai hyper faim. J'ai hyper faim. Je voudrais un omlette. That's French for "I'm very hungry, I'm very hungry. I want an omlette."
Second Intermission- I blow the whistle and skate to get the puck. Davey decides to play around with it. He starts skating away from me and dumps it in a corner all the way at the other end. He laughs and his coach doesn't even notice. So not worth $10.
Third Period- We start a little more timely as I realize in fourteen minutes I'll be getting paid. It's more of the same; eight year olds skating and falling over and shoving each other. The green goalie starts crying because the other team scored four goals in about five minutes. I crouch down and talk to him. He wants me to send all the kids who scored on him to the sin bin. I can't help but smile.
The rest of the third goes rather smoothly and it's enlightened when I notice one of the green players pretending he's a dinosaur. Everytime he got near the puck, he made dino sounds. I have a new favorite.
It's almost the end of the game. I'm near the center line, closer to green bench. I notice Davey standing on the other side of the boards, banging on the door to the bench. "Knock, knock!" He taunts. I laugh.
1:03- I blow my whistle and yell, "GAME!" indicating the end of the game. I stand on the ice and make sure they shake hands. I skate over to green coach and awkwardly ask for my ten dollars. He asks me if Davey was being annoying. I tell him about the knock-knock thing and skate back to the equipment shed. I start changing back into basketball shorts, old baseball shirt, and hat because my hair is disgusting from skating and sweating under my helmet. Davey walks by. He sticks his tongue out. Eventually I find my mom's car, stick my hockey stuff in the back and take shotgun. I still hear J'ai hyper faim, j'ai hyper faim, j'ai hyper faim in my head. We stop at 7-11 and it's all good.....until I find out I have to be back at the rink for a 5:00 10U game, which sucks, because the kids all know I'm only two or three years older and they actually skate and shoot and trip.
MORE "A DAY IN THE LIFE" POSTS TO FOLLOW
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