OK.
About my 3rd. or 4th. year of officiating, I was going to a university about 30 miles from my home town. To save money, I lived at home, commuted to school, and also refereed both football and basketball for spending money. I was assigned to a Friday night end-of-the-regular-season varsity game in a small school out in a small rural league that we handled. My partner was a helluva nice guy, but not much of an official and he sureashell couldn't ever be classified as a take-charge guy- even though he was 10-15 years older than I was. Actually, I had more actual experience that he had. Iow, I was the R at the tender age of around 20. Well, pre-game, the home coach- young, firey guy just starting his coaching career- comes into our dressing room to tell us how important this game was. According to him, the last time these two teams played the other team won by 1 point, the home team was now one game down going into this last game of the schedule, and if the home team won by more than one point tonight, they would get the last play-off spot. That was a big deal to this guy because his team apparently hadn't made the playoffs for about 15 years. The other kicker is that the coach of the visiting team is a grizzled veteran, the dean of that league's coaches, his school's AD and to top everything off, happened to be a university basketball official too in his spare time. Packed house too- fans hanging from the rafters- with a Friday night dance planned after the game.
Well, being clueless, none of this really bothers me, so we start her off.....
Helluva game. Highlights are:
- close all the way through. Visitors pull out a stall for most of the second half, which pisses the home team and their fans off completely.
- 2 T's on the home coach and 2 T's on the visiting coach-all called by me. They were both trying to work me, but I was too dumb to be worked. At that time, there was no limit on the T's you could hand out to a coach.
- one little altercation- which happens to be a full-blown fist fight between 4 players. Say good night to all of 'em.
- the gym was a typical small town gym from that era--i.e. a multi-use facility. It had a stage at one end where spectators sat, and the cheerleaders also sat there with their feet hanging down. There was, oh, maybe 2 feet between the endline and the stage. I was lead near the end of the game, made a call against the home team, and a cheerleader behind me kicked me in the a$$. True story. Well, being young and impetuous, I ain't putting up with that sh!t. Nosiree, not JR. So I toss her outa the gym. And she cried. And I said "too bad". I am now officially "Mr. Evil" to the home crowd.
Anyhoo...
Sho'nuff, the damn game ends up tied. I go to the table to set up the 3-minute OT, and when I turn around, there's only one team on the court-- the home team. Whatthehell?
The young home coach sez to me that the other coach pulled his team and he should forfeit the game. Well, I'm young and dumb, but I ain't
that freaking dumb. I go roaring into the the visiting team's dressing room to see wassup, followed closely by the home coach. I ask the visiting coach whatinthehell is going on. He said the game's over-- there's a league rule that sez because it's a rural league with bussing, that all regular season games that end in a tie give each team 1 point- with no OT's ever being played. Of course, he also happens to have a copy of their league constitution with him, which he's only too happy to share with me and the home coach. Not much I can do but rule that it's Miller Time- game over- tie game. Which means the visitors get in the playoffs by 1 point and the home team is toast. Of course, all that's after the home coach loses it and offers to punch the visiting coach upside the head a few times. I get the visiting coach out the room, tell the bench "game over" and we get thehell outa Dodge.
Well.....apparently after we left, some of the hometown fans, feeling just a tetch surly, decide to go after the visiting team and their fans... and the police hadda be called to break up a few tiffs and provide an escort for the visitors to leave town.
The week after, the principals of both schools get involved. They are shocked by such behaviour! Shocked, I tell ya. I now gotta write out game reports for everybody and their damn uncle. Final ruling was that both teams were suspended from any further play that year, and were also put on league probation for the following year.
Did I care? Naw, the brownpop tasted the same post-game, no matter what. Cold. Good.
That's my overtime story, Rick. You could say that was really a sudden death game too, I guess. True story btw.
[Edited by Jurassic Referee on Jul 16th, 2005 at 04:07 AM]