Quote:
Originally Posted by bainsey
On the team bus.
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We work games at one of the smallest high schools in Connecticut, in a very rural part of the state. It used to have a very small gym, one side with some bleachers, and, opposite tableside, a single line of folding chairs along the sideline wall. The students, and parents, would sit in the bleachers. The old geezers in town would sit in the folding chairs, every single game, since there was nothing else, other than cow tipping, to do in town on a Tuesday, or a Friday night.
These guys would give us a hard time every single time that an official was on that side of the court, especially during throwins, intermissions, timeouts, etc. No yelling, just quiet comments like, "Do you want me to give some water to your seeing eye dog in your car?". This would go on for the entire game, whether their team was winning, losing, or whether, or not, the officials were doing a great job, or an average job. On close calls, and easy calls.
I never considered this to be unsporting, it was a bunch of old guys having some fun. It got to the point where I used to like working games at this school. I started having conversations with these guys, "What did you guys have on that last block charge? How did you like that out of bounds call?" After comments like this, they would end up arguing with each other instead of commenting to the officials.
The tiny gym is gone, replaced by a larger field house, with large bleachers on one side of the court, and only the table, and team benches on the other side. If the guys are alive, and are still there, they now blend in with the rest of the crowd. Too bad, I really enjoyed the intimate atmosphere in that old gym..