January 14, 2017 by bbgcmac

On Officiating and Relations…

Here are a few little tidbits about officials, officiating, communication and common sense:

As an official, when a team is getting the breaks beat off of them, it’s good judgement to let the coach whine a bit. There are even times when he/she should be able to get away with a little more than usual. It ain’t personal. We should get that!
I expect that a coach will lobby for his players. There is a way to keep an open dialogue and lobby for an official to see things the coaches way in certain situations. On the other hand, when a coach is constantly debating every play, (Foul! Traveling! Moving Screen) that coach will be tuned out. At some point the coach may have a legitimate point, but by the time that happens their credibility is spent.
Good officials respect dialogue, but we don’t respect intellectual dishonesty. This too will get a coach tuned out. Don’t argue against what you know to be obviously true.
Officials who are too prideful to admit a mistake suck! Other officials hate working with them as much as coaches hate seeing them on the floor of their games.
Officials who don’t listen to other officials who try to help them suck! And their performance will will never improve.
Like players and coaches, no matter how hard we try, there are nights when we just don’t have it. We are going to suck, and we know when we sucked!

Not that we are there for the compliments, but a coach that can compliment a good call or acknowledge a diligent official working hard at his craft is wise.
The less a coach complains, the more credibility he/she has when they do express displeasure.
Officials who love the craft of officiating and doing a great job on behalf of the players rock!
Coaches and administrators whose motivation are educating their players through team building sports and competition rock!
Sometimes conflict is good, healthy and necessary.
Some officials hold grudges.
Some coaches hold grudges.
Respect should be a given. Only earned respect is maintained.
There are coaches and officials who are doing what they do for all the wrong reasons.
Officials, coaches and players are human.
There is way more to being an excellent official than some officials and most fans would ever understand.
I learn something new and see things I’ve never seen before often while officiating.
Officiating and coaching are both fun and honorable jobs to have.

February 16, 2016 by bbgcmac

Race, Responsibility & Basketball Moms on That Spice (Explicit Language)

Those that know me, and those that read me are not surprised to know I am not afraid to confront so called controversial issues. This includes the most sensitive topics concerning politics, race and religion. Those who are closest to me know that I am just as active, aware and nuanced in my living.

When I first started officiating I had long dreadlocks. And as a new official, many of the places I reffed were far away from home. It wouldn’t be unusual for me to travel 40-60 miles away from home for 1 or 2 Jr. high school games. Some games would be in small towns in Southern Illinois or Southeast Missouri. In many cases, I was the only person of color I would see until I was close to home again. Most of those experiences were positive. There were plenty of times I got funny looks. Curious looks perhaps. But I always focused on two things. #1) Doing my job. #2) Being myself. Part of my personality is to have fun with young people. Anytime there is an opportunity for a little laugh, or even a moment to insert some humor, I would do it. It put kids at ease, some who may have not ever had any interactions with a black male. It also made many of the parents, family and fans comfortable too. Often many would walk up to me on the way out and say something like, “Hey ref, I really like how you teach the kids.” Or, “It’s so cool how you interact with them. Thank you.” Those words always encouraged me. This is because I always felt that when it comes to meeting new people, or people who have different backgrounds and experiences, there is an opportunity to connect. As a black man, I always believed it is my duty to be a part of the solution when it comes to race. I know that if I am the one in a few people of color some white people come across, they could never say they didn’t witness a black man of grace and class… and dreadlocks.

Those that know me know that I tend to practice what I preach. I don’t embrace sacred cows. I can praise and support a person 100% in one area, and criticize a behavior of the same person in the next breath. Mostly we are not the sum of one act or two mistakes. There are many opportunities for nuance. We all need to make improvements. And then there are times when right is right and wrong is wrong.

Saturday, while officiating some youth basketball, a group of women walked into the gym and assembled along some bleachers underneath one of the baskets. (They happened to be black) Soon it became obvious which 6th grade child on which team belonged to them. One woman in particular really got into ‘coaching,’ shouting instructions for all to hear. My partner, who was white, (a man I had never met before) called a foul on her preferred team. She shouted to the penalized player that he did nothing wrong and that the official made a bad call. We ignored her.

At halftime he and I discussed the sideline ‘coach,’ and he told the tournament supervisor and myself that on the previous night, the same woman called him a ‘cracker ref.’ We both noticed the smell of marijuana around the entire family where they sat. If I wasn’t going back and forth, I would surely have caught a contact. I told my partner, “She can coach all she wants. No worries there. But if she calls you anything like that this game, she’s going to leave today. And let me tell you up front, you won’t have to say a word. I will take care of it myself.”

We got to the second half of the game and 5 minutes didn’t go by before this woman stood up, and while talking at the kids on the court said, “I don’t give a fuck!” I paused for a moment, a bit surprised at what just flew from her pie hole. I blew my whistle and told the sister she had to go. She started to make a scene stepping towards me. I told her that she was not allowed to stay in the gym while lobbing F bombs in the presence of these children. The supervisor then came over and asked me what was going on. After hearing me he concurred and instructed her to leave. This is when things got really incredible. The woman, in addition to saying that she didn’t have to go anywhere walks up to me and goes on a tirade.

You a punk ass bitch! Yea that’s right I said it. Whats up? *Walking towards me. (I smiled at her but held my ground.) That’s right you and your momma a punk ass bitch. You can suck my dick you bitch ass motherfucker! (I smiled more waving my hand as she walked slowly backwards to the exit) You and your momma can suck my dick! Bitchass! You too! (talking to the supervisor) I’ll be back motherfuckers!

*** And here I was thinking that weed made you more lax, not psycho! She must have been smoking that spice or something!

After all the madness we finished the game. Many parents came up to me and thanked me for ridding her from the premises. It’s as if they were waiting for someone to step in and remove this cancer of presence. They said she disrupts the games every weekend. The coach of the team she favored asked to speak with me privately. He thanked me profusely. Said it embarrasses him as a coach as well as her son who has to put up with it in front of his teammates.

The supervisor of the gym (who happens to be white,) and who happens to be a friend, felt comfortable enough to say to me, “And people wonder why there are problems sometimes between blacks and whites.” Though the fan could have been any color, I knew what he meant. She exemplified every single negative stereotype known to man about black people. What I told him was this however, “This is the bigger point. As I told my partner, he wasn’t going to have to deal with her if she acted a fool. I would. This is all I ever ask of white people. When they see their own acting out a certain way, handle it! Don’t leave me out there by myself. I’ll stick up for you when you are right. She wasn’t going to be able to say, “the white cracker ref” did anything to her. I need that same support. So stick up for me when I’m right even if others who look like you may think you’re wrong!” (Cause her entire family mother-fucked me on the way out the door.)

I’m glad my supervisor and friend had my back this day.

September 25, 2015 by bbgcmac

Evaluating Officiating in Black & White

I’ll get to the point:

Sports officiating is one of the most fulfilling activities I’ve ever participated in. It’s fun, exciting and challenging. The fun and exciting part is because of my love for sports and the even deeper love I have for the mostly young people who play in the contest. Outside of men’s league basketball, 99% of the 4 sports I officiate are middle or high school age. Young people are special in my eyes. I respect those who participate as well as the coaches who spend time molding them into better people through organized sports. Facilitating a contest so that the rules and spirit of fair play are enforced is vital to the games. While there are rules, there is also game administration. In other words it’s not just about calling violations, it’s also understanding what not to call. There is a certain feel to the game officials have to understand. Show me an official who administers 100% by the book, and I’ll show you an official that no coach, player or fan wants. And this is the focus of this blog… coaches and fans. Namely my coaches and fans of African descent.

In officiating, conflict among players and coaches is something that goes with the job. We expect it. Where there is competition, there is often intensity as a group of individuals collectively fight for pieces of real estate on the floor or field of play. Resolving conflict and fostering an environment where communication is open and respectful is one of the responsibilities officials have which have nothing to do with the rules. It’s a give and take. When lines are crossed, its up to officials to be the arbiter of what is no longer acceptable.

I’ve noticed over the years that there is a general difference in the kind of flack I get from White folks vs. Black when it comes to youth sports. Again generally, if a white person doesn’t like my calls, he/she criticizes my performance, my aptitude, my judgement. They may say something like, “That was a horrible call! What are you looking at?” Or one of my favorites, “Hey! There’s a game going on out there. You may want to try watching it!” These are par for the course. Any official worth his whistle won’t take these things to heart unless things go overboard. Don’t get me wrong, there are some white coaches that I know going into a game are going to be jerks for the sake of being a jerk. For me, the tone is much more important than the words.

But then there are my brothers and sisters. African-Americans; Black folk. When things aren’t going their way, the phrase that far too many of us go to without nuance or consideration is, “YA”LL CHEATING!”

Listen, to a certain degree, I get it. Black folk are marginalized in society. The history and legacy of White supremacy is a prevailing reality that affects most every area of our lives. When it comes sports, its one of the few areas modern day where we have been able to successfully and compete with the masses consistently. Many African-American parents see sports as one of their child’s avenues to gain success where there is no subtle or flagrant bias; understanding the bias most black people will face as they get older. Then there is the passion that just goes along with being a fan. Fan is short for ‘fanatic.” Therefore, by definition there is a certain expectation of a lack of logic when it comes to observing athletic competition. I can be as hyped as anybody yelling at my television when the Lakers or Steelers are on. Sometimes that includes yelling at the referees. So again, I get it. Unfortunately there are those among us who take the ‘cheating,’ accusation (a premise that is often flawed) to a disgraceful level.

I officiated a football game a while back. The teams consisted of a mostly black populated school vs a majority white populated school. In my position as back judge, I threw penalty flags on 3 long touchdown scoring plays back against the mostly white team as a result of ‘holding’. That team’s White coach wasn’t too happy with me. He yelled a few things at my direction as football coaches do. The fans were also disappointed and expressed their displeasure in the forms of “Ohhhh” and “Arrrrrrggghhhhs” Later on, I called the same type of holding penalty against the mostly black team. Not only did the fans and assistant go ballistic, the fans started accusing me and our crew of cheating. I don’t mean ‘cheating’ as hyperbole. They were actually serious! All of a sudden every move I made was heavily scrutinized. When I explained my call to the coach, they mocked and scorned my words to the coach if I were addressing them. As for the rest of the game, every subsequent penalty against their team was in some way an attempt to take something away from them. As a matter of fact, even as their team won the game, instead of celebrating the victory of the players, they taunted the officials that we were not able to ‘cheat’ them out of victory.

This isn’t the only time. I’ve been in basketball games, where it was an all white team playing an all black team; the white teams are winning, and the black coaches and fans are screaming at two black officials accusing of of cheating. How ridiculous is that? Often the reality is that the other team is shooting, passing, rebounding, and defending better than the other. Sometimes the black kids are imitating Lebron James and Kobe Bryant with their moves, but haven’t put in the work and developed the skill-set to succeed like their hoop heros. Sometimes it’s as simple as the coaching is suspect. Regardless of the sport, I can normally tell within the first few minutes how good a team is, whether they are well coached, and their level of potential competitive success in a given situation. I can say for sure, that the officiating generally has so little to do with an outcome of a game, you’d have to be Tim Donaghy to notice discrepancies.

That being said, there are crappy officials. I know more than a few who do it just for the money. I hate working with them. There are also officials who have biases. There are even situations where black teams from certain communities have a harder time succeeding in other communities when they compete. Equally true, is that no player or team has calls that they will always agree with. Officials, like players and coaches make mistakes. We miss the mark. Still, the vast majority of us really care about doing a great service to the game and the young people who play them. We attend training camps, study, test, watch film, critique ourselves and one another every day. When I am with some of my good friends who are officials we openly discuss our blunders. We use these our mistakes to help one another better. We seldom ever talk about ‘that great game’ we called the other night. That’s the truth!

So to my people, you know who you are, please stop! We aren’t out here trying to take nothing away from your kid. Accusing us of cheating, especially within ear shot of the youth who are playing, gives them a false sense of victim-hood that is in no way true, nor will it prepare them to differentiate and navigate the real bias they face now or will face later. Winning games are about talent, strategy and execution. In most cases, these decide the outcomes of games even if the officiating is suspect. The cream always rises to the top. I don’t give a damn about who wins or loses a game; unless you are the Lakers or the Steelers. And honestly if I officiate those teams, because I care about my craft so much, I wouldn’t give Kobe or Big Ben a damn thing they didn’t earn. So stop thinking its my job to compensate for your child’s lack of athletic achievement?

By all means continue to critique us on performance if you see fit. Engaged and KNOWLEDGEABLE fans keep officials on our toes. In my profession, we are expected to be perfect and we strive for perfection. Unfortunately, most of you don’t understand the rules like you think you do and couldn’t referee yourselves out of a paper bag if it came down to it. Screaming obscenities and accusing us of cheating makes YOU look bad. And sometimes YA’LL embarrass me! I’m throwing a proverbial flag for unsportsmanlike conduct and feeding black youth misinformation. STOP IT!

January 21, 2014 by bbgcmac

A Gathering of Church Brethren, Or My Richard Sherman Moment

Richard Sherman’s NFC Championship game saving play and immediate reaction during his post game interview has spurned a lot of discussion. The reaction, mostly negative seem to come from two separate parties: One that is shocked that the gladiator leaving the field of gridiron battle was not calm and composed immediately after making the play of his life. The second was a selective set of white folks viewing him as a black out of control mandingo ready to devour every white woman in the Emerald City.

I thought the interview with Erin Andrews was awesome! His raw and unapologetic rant, the result of the competing for the ultimate prize in his sport against a heated rival made me feel as if I was on the field. While others found it difficult to understand, I resonated being totally invested in stiff competition with personal feelings at stake. I thought of my own Richard Sherman moments.

One that I will never forget happened years ago playing basketball with some brothers from a church I attended. We met every Saturday afternoon at a local community center. The competition was pretty good and the name of the game was to win and stay on the court. These games often were personal to me because we had rivalries among the brethren. That was the way I felt anyway…

A LITTLE BACKGROUND

Growing up I wasn’t a basketball player. Baseball was my sport. I taught myself how to play through battling against some of the toughest players the area. I thrived on effort and intuition. I did whatever it took to win and it didn’t matter if I felt I had to score all of the points or none. All I cared about was winning or competing at my highest level with no regrets. I wasn’t that guy who tried to “Be Like Mike.” For me it was about not cheating myself from within. Basketball was just a game, but competing in the right way meant that anything less than an all out effort was selling myself short. If I didn’t stand up for myself I believed I would be punking out. In those years I was still learning how to be a man. Part of my personal rights of passage was to match myself up against other men in competition. Simply put, I believed that if I can play this game and beat guys who were often times better than me skill wise or more athletically inclined, that meant I could compete in life in the career market and otherwise. It was a self test of survival.

I wasn’t a great player but I could hold my own and I often did. I gained a lot of respect among my peers. For some reason, not with some of these guys I played with from church. I would often get picked last below players whom I knew I was better than. Sometimes I wouldn’t get picked at all. That would burn me up. Once captains were chosen, I would throw my finger up asking one of the guys to pick me up. Sometimes no one did. I would have to wait and get ‘next.’ That would burn me up even more!

This one particular day I was one of the last picked up. One of the players on the other team was one of the better players. He had never picked me on his side. So once again, I created a ~~chip~~ boulder on my shoulder that said, “You are going to regret that you didn’t pick me…. ALL FREAKING DAY LONG.”

As custom, we gathered to pray first and play began. As the games went on my team collected a few wins. We took on all challengers and different team combinations from game to game. There was trash talking, and more than a few arguments. Towards the end of the evening, after winning 6 straight games I was ready to shut it down. For years I had struggled with a sharp shooting pain down my right leg, which I found out later was sciatic nerve pain from a herniated disk in my back. At this point I had a hard time walking. One of the players on the other team wanted one more rematch. Marjobo and I went to school together so we went way back. He had been talking trash to me all day long though I was sticking it in his ass. He was especially irritating and was relentlessly non stop with his rants and name calling.

I have never been the trash talker many guys are. I always believed the biggest competition was with myself. I’ve gotten my ass handed to me by some great players. And I’ve done my share of winning. But I had no sorrows if I knew I gave it my all against them. My never quit no excuses attitude is how I got my respect. On the flip side, guys who talked trash to me often took me to a deeper level of intensity. My friend Richard Dix knows this all too well. We played one on one often. On most occasions the results went about 50-50. Richard was long, athletic and could jump. But, Richard’s downfall was his pride. If he were winning, he had to let me know about it. He would talk, laugh and say stupid things. From then on I would start into another gear. As I would pile on the points he would say something like, “Oh boy, I see you done got quiet. Here we go!” I would be in an assassin’s mentality. Richard called it my, “You ain’t my friend no more mode.” Either way, I don’t think he ever beat me when I was in that state of mind.

I told Marjobo my leg was bothering me. I needed to sit it out. He egged me on saying I was a scared punk who didn’t want him to beat me. After a few minutes I said to myself, “F’it… let’s go!”

The two teams went at if for about 20-25 minutes. Back and forth the score went. Game was to 12 but it was win by 2. Richard was there but he was watching. Basketball never meant that much to him. After a couple games, he was just hanging with the brothers. He was entertained by the drama. Marjobo was talking and talking. I never said a word. Dragging my leg around I did everything I could to rebound and play defense. Finally we went up 16-15 with one basket to go for game time. I received a pass on a cut to the paint, went up for the shot and as the ball went through the basket, my inner Richard Sherman came through in front of all these dudes I went to church and worshipped with every Sunday as I screamed at the top of my lungs:

GET YO MOTHERFU#@$! ASSES OFF MY GOTDAMN COURT! THIS IS MY MOTHERFU#@$! HOUSE! BUSTA ASS NI@@AS CAN’T F#@! WITH ME!!!!!!!! NOW DON’T SAY SH#! ELSE!!!! ALL YA’LL DISMISSED!!!

There was total silence in the gym, except for Richard who was on the floor rolling around laughing. He said, “I told ya’ll. Don’t say nothing to that dude. Just play and leave him alone!” I’m sure the other guys were thinking, “I knew he wasn’t saved!”

I can tell you over 10 years later that my response was totally unplanned and 100% organic. It didn’t matter. My mother, my kids, the pastor or anybody could have been there at the time. I was mentally out of my mind with a euphoric satisfaction that was probably something like being high on crack for the first time. My reaction wasn’t who I was on a day to day basis. But it was within me. I was a conquering warrior for that moment. When I went home I could barely move the pain was so horrific. I had an MRI and had the first of two back surgeries less than two weeks later. For all of the days I suffered waiting on the surgery, as I reflected back I said to myself every single time it was all worth it. I was just a guy playing some rec ball. This wasn’t my career or my life’s dream. What do you think it was like for Richard Sherman?

**Marjobo Harrell who was named after Martin Luther King, John Kennedy, and Bobby Kennedy (Mar- Jo- bo) was a St. Louis Firefighter who died tragically in a motor cycle accident. He really was an awesome guy! Much love and rest in peace brother!

December 3, 2013 by bbgcmac

Day 3, Are you kidding me?

Say hello to my little friends! These are the 4 way adjustable hinged knee braces I wear every night to my basketball games. Though they look like a bulky mess actually they allow for quite a bit of freedom. I am not slowed down in the least bit. And best of all, they take the pounding OFF of my knees so I come away with no pain whatsoever on most nights such as tonight after two games at a JV tournament.

Back to Day 3; Well the good news is that I did walk another 4 miles of power walking today. The bad news is that while adjusting the volume on my cell phone while listening to a book, I dropped the thing clean on the concrete! For the first time I had one of those phones with the cracks all over the screen. Not just any cracks either, but the cracks you can actually feel. Thank goodness for insurance right?

The second part of the bad news is that while I was closing in on the last mile and a half or so, I got this rubbing irritation on the back of my left heel. Though I took my shoe off and adjusted my socks, I couldn’t get the rubbing to stop. The results was the onset of a big blister on the back of my heel. This is just what i needed considering that I am working multiple games ever day until December 22nd.

Walking was a pain and I had no idea how I was going to ref the games tonight without clean rubbing the skin off the heel.

There are two things officials need to know when entering a gym. 1) Who is the administrator? 2) Do you have a trainer on staff?

I met the administrator at the door who directed me to the trainer. After explaining my dilemma, she treated and wrapped the heel to perfection. To my relief, it felt at least 90% better! Crisis averted!

Game on!

December 1, 2013 by bbgcmac

Transformations and Other Necessary Changes

Many a day I have quietly obsessed about my weight. I have been successful at reaching goals as well as frustrated with what seemed like little or not movement in the direction I’ve wanted to go in.

As I approach 47 years old, I’ve faced many changes in my body. A life long athlete, it’s often said that as we get older, ‘confidence is the last to go. And the mirror is the last to know.’ In other words there is a bit of rebellion in us that says we can do what we used to, at the same level without any falloff. I’ve always prided myself in being able to compete when people of a younger age. Being an sports official has helped. And I can honestly say, there are no high school, or college age ballers that can out-run me on the court. As an official I’m going to be in position to give myself the best chance to make the right calls.

Still, after 7 surgeries, a few grey hairs, and a history of horrific back spasms, I can’t deny that often it may take me quite a bit to recover and be ready to officiate night after night during the season. Frankly, there have been countless days where I’ve awaken and said to myself, “I can hardly move. How in the hell am I going to officiate tonight?” Between the aches and pains including a well worn set of rickety knees, it may take an entire day of preparation. But when its time for tip off I go out there and taken care of business.

One of the surest ways of staying healthy is by keeping unnecessary weight off my frame. I’ve gone up and down with my weight as I said before. And again that is challenging. During the day time, I eat relatively small and healthy without a problem.

However, I work most nights, and when I get home I want to eat big time. (And I don’t mean veggies and fruit either.) Eating after a long night of managing high level competition and competitive people is a comforting exercise. This includes tasty meats and starches along with a cold brew. Normally the night ends with some type of sweet. This exercise is far more mental than physical.

The results may mean that I am in essence fighting against my own cause. So what am I to do?

Though I’ve done many things to fight excessive weight gain, my new mantra is to totally take my focus off of weight. I took a long walk today. (6 miles to be exact) And while thinking about it, I figure that weight is not a problem but a symptom. A symptom of food choices, age, the amount of exercise, genetics, and perhaps other factors I cannot think of. Some items are within my control while others are not. The best thing I can do for myself to alleviate the unnecessary stress (stress being another internal homicidal factor) by focusing on what I really want out of my body.

What I want is to be in shape; meaning able to do my job and enjoy normal physical activities; Gain strength and maintain a certain level of flexibility and elasticity. Being physically in shape can help me complete my earthly task and serve in a fashion that I am capable of. As much as I enjoy sports and working with youth, being in shape allows me to gain a certain level of respect and credibility from the get go.

So, instead of being weight conscious, I have decided to be health conscious. Meaning I am going to control the things I can control. I may as well face that I like to eat. And sometimes the things I like to eat are not that good for me. That being said, it doesn’t mean that I can’t consciously take steps to make sure that I move a lot more. Walking that 6 miles today took me a little less than 90 minutes of my time. My thinking is, if I can keep a daily regime of exercise, stretching and strengthening of my body, (even outside of my officiating activities) I will be more healthy and the weight issue will take care of itself. Don’t get me wrong, I ref a lot of games. But my body has become used to that. I can’t measure that activity the same way I used to. So I have to do more. This is what I promised myself I will do starting today. I am committed to doing some cardio, strength training and or stretching every day in addition to the work out I get every night officiating.

Therefore I am determined to reject being weight conscious, and affirm health consciousness. I am going to challenge myself to move and stretch, to work more. I am going to walk this journey and make each day a day to win. I am going to live with a liberated sense of self and allow my spirit to direct me.

With that said, excuse me while I attend to a piece of sweet potato pie. There is still plenty left! And ain’t nobody in this house helping me to eat it!

May 30, 2012 by bbgcmac

Basketball At It’s Finest

I love the game of basketball. It’s a great game; A game of strategy, intelligence, talent, athleticism and teamwork.

I started watching the pro and college games in 1980 when the Showtime Lakers won their first championship Magic Johnson’s rookie year. Though I am a Laker lifer, I’ve always enjoyed watching other good teams play. I remember the Milwaukee Bucks of old with Moncrief and Pressey, the 76ers with Doc, Toney, Moses and Bobby Jones, the Celtics of course and so on. These teams were fun to watch and watching them taught me how the game was played on the highest level.

The resurgence of the NBA was ushered in by the rivalry of the Celtics/Lakers series and of course the duality of Magic and Bird. Basketball came up again and drew many fans from many demographics. The Michael Jordan apex happened at a time when cable TV and the 24 hour sports expansion of media and marketing went to a new level. As great at Jordan was as a player, in so many ways the game itself suffered as many of the upcoming players only focused on Jordan’s individual one on one exploits. They rarely took notice of his all-defensive team selections, or the genius of the Triangle Offense. Those things are affective and essential to winning championships, but the NBA doesn’t market the game this way. They continue to focus on personalities and individual glamourized talent. They want us enamored with LeBron James, but not Tim Duncan. But you see Tim Duncan has four championships, and LeBron has none.

This is what I thought of yesterday as I watched Game 2 of the Western Conference finals between San Antonio and Oklahoma City.

For me the “Triangle,” when executed properly is probably the most poetic and fluent offense that I’ve witnessed. It gives multiple options to each of the five players on the court. But what I saw last night for the first three quarters from the Spurs was nothing short of basketball perfection!

You talk about mastering the pick and roll, spacing, dribble penetration, drawing the defense in, making the extra pass, then making shots to a point of making the game look like an award winning work of art. The Spurs were like an orchestra owning the stage and captivating the audience. I was awed by what I saw.

What Tony Parker did to Russell Westbrook was a crime. It was an execution. Parker basically took Westbrook over his knee and spanked him for thinking he could compete on his level at playoff time. Watching Parker was like watching Pete Sampras and Roger Federer at Wimbledon during their hey-days. If it were a play they would have called it, “Murder at the Alamo!” Westbrook like the basketball child he is, failed to see the irony of what was happening to him and tried to dribble and one on one his way out of his whooping.

By the way… James Hardin is a way better basketball player than Russell Westbrook. I’m just sayin. But I digress!

This is what basketball is up against. TEAMS win championships, but individuals are marketed and packaged to sell the game more than they should be. It’s not like I can’t appreciate the talent LeBron and others have. The problem is that they feel they have to rely on that talent alone to prove their perceived worth to those of us watching as well as those reporting.

I see this as a basketball official. At lower levels a talented individual can definitely win some games for you. But I witness more than I can count the number of teams that I see who can simply pass, shoot, rebound and defend as a unit methodically crucifies the teams with better individual talent.

Look at Spurs coach Greg Popovich; He’s been with the same team his entire career, has won, lost, and now is winning again. Unlike other coaches, his voice has never worn on his star veteran players. I think that speaks volumes for veteran guys like Duncan, Parker and Ginobili. What about the job RC Buford has done with the personnel? They have managed to add Stephen Jackson, and Boris Diaw to a group of savvy veterans and ultimate team players to make this run. It’s amazing. Yet the league will not sell them to the public.

You need not be a rocket scientist to see what is going to happen here. The Heat and the Spurs will be in the Finals. And the Heat, even with the greatness of Wade and the talent of James, don’t have a chance!

I just hope that young people who play this game are paying attention.

May 11, 2012 by bbgcmac

Submit, Listen, Learn & Advance

For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives. – Hebrews 12:6

We live in society where people are often defensive when it comes to receiving correction. A common phrase folk tend to use when approached with feedback designed to reveal a personal or professional flaw is that the person giving the feedback is ‘hating.’ Their first reaction is to defend, place blame, deflect responsibility, or simply rise up against what may be helpful advice. There is a common saying, “Only God can judge me.” Often that’s psycho–babble for, “Don’t say nothing about my ignorant or destructive ways.”

Most of us don’t like being corrected. It’s in our nature. That’s not always a negative depending on the context.

I remember working in a payroll position. And for eleven years I made significant contributions day in and day out. My boss, a great man, occasionally questioned a project I worked on or corrected me in my processes. I would listen and adjust my practices when instructed, but there would often be an intense conversation along the way. He said he liked that I was that way because he knew that I really cared about doing a great job. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to be better, but I took pride in excellence. The thought of not being perfect peeved me in the worst way. My motivation had merit. But the pride that drove me was at times my worst enemy. I’ll get back to that.

Seldom does correction ‘feel’ good. But it’s a valuable tool that’s totally essential for growth. There are always opportunities to be critiqued because none of us are perfect. Of course not all criticisms are valid. However, the way in which we handle critique say a lot about whether we are fit for promotion.

I’ve had the opportunity to be mentored by a veteran official of over 35 years. He has worked multiple high school state title games in three sports. Obviously an older gentleman, his words are not always politically correct. His had a tough and disciplined upbringing by two stern parents in the segregated South. And his straight forward approach seldom has nuance.

I originally knew this man growing up as a teacher and sports official when I attended high school. He officiated many of my own games. I doubt that he remembered me. The first time he saw me on the ball field as a young umpire, he eyed me from head to toe pointing out what was wrong with my uniform, and how I held my ball/strike/out indicator in the wrong hand. He also tore into me for wearing a shiny watch (not good as it reflects in the sun) and on and on. Inside I felt like, “Well damn dude, nice to see you again too.”

For some reason, I had the presence of mind not to let him see me sweat. Instead, I hung around and allowed him to make fun of me in front of the other guys. I shook my head in the affirmative, smiled and thanked him for helping me out. I bought a non reflective watch, and made every other adjustment per his instructions.

He kept in touch and hired me for a few high school games. Sometimes I got to work directly with him as his on the field partner. This was scary because I didn’t know how I would stack up or if I would meet his expectations. Needless to say, my trepidation was clairvoyant. At the end of each half inning he summoned me and asked me various question about what I was doing and why. I remember being on the bases and when a runner was tagged out I belted, “HE’S OUT AT THIRD!” I was told by the cagy veteran, “Us umpires are dumb! We only speak in one word terms. We say ‘out’, ‘safe,’ ‘ball,’ ‘strike.’ We don’t announce the game. You’re not Harry Carey!”

He gave it to me every time he had a chance. But I took it in and learned. I focused on not making the same mistakes over and over again. These lessons continued as we worked together more in the later months. I began to improve. As I got better he started giving me respect. Instead of rhetoric exclusively geared towards instructions he started to speak casually, even making jokes. Sometimes he’d even ask me about my personal life to get to know me better.

Last year this mentor of mine was inducted into the Illinois High School Activities Hall of Fame. My wife and I drove to the Bloomington-Normal, Illinois to share in his honor with many of his family, friends, and fellow officials.

Now when we work together he still quizzes me sometimes. He still gives instructions as he is always the educator. I am still a bit nervous, more so out of respect. I always learn something new when work together. But I also noticed that he is proud of me. When we used to meet in the parking lot for pre-game he would tell me whether I was working the plate or the field. Now he asks me what my preferences are. One time he even said, “It’s my turn to work the plate Chris. I gotcha.” Now he looks at me like a partner not as a scrub.

You see the ‘drill sergeant’ has long retired from the sport. He’s received all of the accolades one can get from his profession as a teacher and official. But his motivation for me was to see me advance and be one of the people to carry the torch of my generation. He merely hangs around now to assign guys like me games and expose us to people and places because this business is very political. There was a time when Black American officials didn’t get much work if any from Caucasian assignors. It’s still that way in a lot of places. So his entire aim was never to demean or embarrass me. (Though at times I’m telling you he did.) He simply wants me to be the best at my craft. I have to be on top of my game to succeed and reach my potential. He told me recently, “I want you to be a state finals official.”

I love him for that.

Now, if I would have been a knuckle head and rebelled, ignored his advice, thought to myself the man is old, out of touch or hating, where would that leave me?

I’ve always been a mentor myself so I get it. When I see a person who consistently refuse the counsel I offer, I’ll keep my knowledge to myself. When people cease talking to us about our flaws and we are allowed to flail about aimlessly thinking that we are performing well when in reality we are not, that is actually a judgment upon our lives. It’s saying in effect, “There is no hope for you. I will not waste my time, or my breath trying to dress a pig with pearls.”

As I said before every criticism is not necessarily valid. But listening never hurt anyone. The best thing to do, even if you initially disagree is to consider and reflect on what has been said first. If you find it to be true, take heed and make change. If it’s not, keep it moving.

Unfortunately, pride keeps us from even contemplating and thus prevents us from promotion to our next level. But that great evangelist and teacher Marcellus Wallace said it best, “Fuck pride! Pride only hurts, it never helps. Fight through that shit.”

May 8, 2012 by bbgcmac

We’re All Selling Something!

“A-B-C. A-Always, B-Be, C-Closing. Always be closing, always be closing.” – Glengarry Glen Ross

Most who know me well know that I am a sports official by profession. After 27 years in management, project management, payroll and some form of customer support, I’ve spent the last couple years building upon a career path that I embrace more for the love than the money. Currently I work within 4 different kinds of sports and that number is expanding. I work with adults, high school students and even small children.

Being in business for myself has brought me to realize some things. Like my friends and colleagues with the National Sales Network, St. Louis Chapter, my line of work includes selling. The product is me.

You see there are many sports officials out there. Every year there are a plethora of young men and women who venture into this business with different aspirations. Some do it for side income. Some want to stay active in the games they used to play. Some love being around the kids and helping them. Some take the craft of officiating quite seriously and want to be the best at it. Many want to go into the college and pro ranks. Some are what I call Official/Umpire/Referee mercenaries. Their sole motivation is to get as much money as possible; and that’s it.

I have worked with all of these categories of officials. And from the beginning I plotted my own path step by step by understanding the basic principles of selling myself as a viable commodity among my customers.

The first step was in becoming qualified and certified by state standards. Currently I am certified in two states. Second is to learn the craft as well as possible by not only working as much as I could, but also reaching out and learning from other officials. As the saying goes, I’ve learned as much of what not to do as well as what to do.

Next I always show up on time unless I’ve arranged otherwise. Nothing aggravates athletic directors, coaches, players and parents more than some slacker holding up their games and treating them as if their event is not important.

There are many outstanding officials who are on in the marketplace. A major way that I’ve learned to shine and differentiate myself is to be engaging and show a lot of energy and enthusiasm while performing. I’m not afraid to smile or even joke when the tension get a little chippie. Everyone who sees me can recognize that I want to be there and am invested and involved in what’s going on. I hustle and get into position to make the right calls. I communicate with the players and the coaches. I answer questions with courtesy, though I am firm and not afraid to settle a conflict.

Most people can tell if their official is competent, engaged, and cares about what’s going on. The games we officiate are just games. They don’t save lives or change the world. But when I played it was important to me. Whatever the gender, age, or experience level the competitors deserves to have quality officials who gives them the chance to enjoy their sporting experience within the assigned set of rules and rules interpretation.

There are several officials related associations that I am a member of. This makes for great networking opportunities. No matter how good you are, you cannot make it without the help of others. Through these organizations I benefit from the training and development they provide. They in turn assign work to me all over the area. However, most of my work and references have come through relationship building and word of mouth based on my performance, which includes my attitude. My name is my brand. And when people think of me, my brand is what comes to mind as they decide who to hire for their sporting events.

These principles and skills are transferable to any line of business. Remember we are all selling something every day. Even in your personal life, when you go on a date, is that anything less than a sales job?

No matter the product, your name, your brand, and your reputation is the first commodity people will consider first.

August 26, 2011 by bbgcmac

Blue Strikes Back, or If My Whistle Could Talk

Real Talk: I love what I do. Sports’ officiating is not only a fun job, it’s an important job. Whether the games are played by little kids, teenagers, or adult men/women, the officials play an important part in managing games that mean a lot to its participants. They uphold the integrity of live competition.

As a fan of sport, and a former participant as a youth and adult, I understand the fun, the passion and the intensity when competing. Often part of the art and drama of sports is the give and take between players/coaches and officials. Some try to bully officials. Some are more cunning. I welcome some give and take because it’s a part of the game. I expect players to gripe a little in the heat of battle. I expect coaches to try to ‘work’ me into giving them the next call to their advantage. Games are as much psychological as they are physical. You have to have thick skin in this business to be successful as a competitor or official.

Still, every once in a while I find it funny how some of the players and coaches I work with take the give and take a little too far. Most good officials take a lot more than they give in the first place. We can’t get caught up in too much conversation even as we try to respect dialogue. There are times when the chatter I hear is ridiculous. The verbal assaults can clearly get out of hand.

While doing men’s basketball game recently one team in particular whined and bitched throughout the entire contest. Several comments were made not only questioning our abilities as referees, but also our character. Two of their players ended up being tossed from the contest. And even after the game they persisted to make excuses for the ass whoopin’ they just endured.

But what if the tables were turned? What if there was actually equal access to criticize?

I posed this question to one the whining players who kept at us as my partner and I were changing to leave the gym.

“You know what? I can do what you do. But you can’t do what I do. You’re not qualified to do my job. But what if I in the course of the game could talk to you the way you talk to me. What if I critiqued your every move on this court, your missed shots, turnovers, every time your man scored on you? What if I walked up and down the court saying, ‘What a lousy pass that was? Your defense is shit. You can’t shoot so why do you continue to try? Coach, your game plan sucks and you can’t coach worth a damn! Hang it up!’ Believe me I see it every week! It’s not like I don’t notice. But you spend so much time critiquing my every call or no call. He had no answer for that.

I’m umpiring a youth fall baseball league in a well to do area. Some of the kids on the teams are sons of St. Louis Cardinals, Rams or Blues players. Some of them are pretty good while others not so. Some of them are good kids who love to play the game. Some think they are automatically following in their father’s athletic footsteps.

Anyway, I’m behind the plate and this one kid has Albert Pujol’s stance down to the tee. (Not Albert’s son) He’s posin’ it real good but refuses to swing unless the ball crosses the middle of the plate. I’m calling corner strikes and he’s huffin’ and puffin’ openly showing off his disapproval. Later towards the end of the game, one of his teammates ducks out of the way of a pitch on the inside corner of the plate like it’s a missile. (STRIKE!) He turns and shows his frustrations with some grunts and rumblings under his breath. Then he barks, “Hey – where was that blue?” My response, “It was in the strike zone that’s where it was. Besides that, you are up 17-2. Swing the bat and stop ducking the ball like you’re scared.” He struck out and that was that. But what if I said what I really wanted to say. It would have been pretty much the same except I would have added.. ‘Smart ass lil fucka! Now shut yo punk ass up before I take my belt off and whip ya right here at home plate!’ on the end of it. Here he was 11 years old trying to ‘big time’ me in front of his teammates and the fans.

Fortunately, for the most part I’m good at holding my tongue while managing the game professionally. Every now and then I still lose my tempter. I’m working on it. But I bet for those kids/adults who act a fool, if officials can just have one contest where the talking was equal, they would choose their words much more carefully.

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