You Suck!
/It never fails to amuse me… how easily fans can turn on an official. I’ve thrown a flag on one player for the clearest push from behind in recorded history and been excoriated by that player’s fan base. No nuance. No categorization of the contact. Just pure, unadulterated disbelief in my audacity to penalize their player.
I used to get upset with fans in the same way I used to get upset with my mind. It seemed like they both shouted absolutely idiotic comments to distract me from whatever I wanted to do. Couldn’t they see that I was working as hard as I could? Did they have no appreciation for how rarely I was out of position?
It wasn’t until I read ”It’s Not All Black and White” by Mike Liner that I revamped my feelings toward fans at every level of play. To paraphrase Mike: “fans are 100% biased, you always know where they are coming from so nothing they do can ever really be a surprise.” When else in life do you know, with complete certainty, where another person is coming from in an argument? It is so much easier to verbally spar with someone when you know their position.
I’ve since taken Mr. Liner’s fan philosophy and combined it with another from a good friend of mine: Alan Goldberger. Mr. Goldberger regularly admonishes officials: “to never elevate a fan to your level of expertise.” I work my tail off to be good at officiating, but I used to value every comment shouted in my direction the same. This strategy does not work in officiating at any level, and it especially does not work in recovery from mental illness.
I used to value every thought that wandered into my consciousness as something worthy of my attention. This is just as absurd as that first-year dad shouting his imbecilic understanding of the rules at me from seventy yards away. Yet, those comments can eat a person alive. I know, I’ve been there.
The depressed mind is a pretty brutal adversary, but it can be strategized against with many of the same strategies I’ve employed in my time as an official. Here are three that deal with “You Suck” and the like:
My job is to facilitate the smooth completion of the game. Officials get ourselves in trouble when we try to do more than we need, but we also get in trouble by not doing enough when needed. The trick is to constantly be evaluating the competition and doing whatever is required in that moment that will better bring about the end of the game. There is nothing safer than not playing, nothing fairer then time running out. As long as I keep the end of the game as my objective, I can surf over any sideline commentary.
In youth games I referee with rabbit ears, which is somewhat of a scarlet letter statement for officials but I do it for a key reason. No kid has a good time when the adults are losing their collective minds. If I need to pay attention to the sidelines and stop the game for adult misbehavior then I will do so with gusto because the end goal is that the players enjoy the game. Rules don’t say anything about needing fans and I’ll get rid of them just as directly as I get rid of negative thoughts with Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. I won’t allow certain thoughts to ruin my day just as I won’t allow some parents to ruin a game.
Finally, and yet most importantly, I look at my tattoo. I have the first line of Mary Oliver’s Wild Geese permanently affixed to the top of my wrist. It is easily visible whenever I am in my day be that in a game, at home, or even just driving. I put this reminder on my body because I needed regular affirmation that I didn’t need to be accomplishing all the things all the time. I didn’t even need to be good to have value. I referee so much more relaxed when I keep in mind that the only person who is permitted to make value judgments on my refereeing is myself, my crew, and whomever else I give permission.
If you never considered refereeing I encourage you to give it a shot. It’s a great way to stay physically active, sure, but I find the mental health benefits of blowing a whistle far outweigh the downsides.
