Girls JV summer league (you get the picture). I am lead and there is a scramble for the ball in the lane. A1 picks it up and B1 reaches around her arm and grabs her wrist. I call a holding foul. The play was about 3 feet right in front of me as plain as day.
Coach B (his name is Brainiac T. Howler-monkey - the T. stands for "The") who is at least 50 feet away yells, "You can't see that from that position".
I walk toward the table to report the foul and say back to him, "You're right, coach. I'll come sit on your bench where I'll get a better view."
He stared for a moment, but then retreated back into his cage because he knew I was about to puke on his shoes.
Morons - ya gotta love 'em.