Guaranteed the most ridiculous technical foul ever
When hollering an innocent instruction got me teed up and a tongue lashing
I should’ve known I was in trouble when the referee teed up my eighth-grade team for shooting around on the court between the third and fourth quarter of the seventh-grade game.
Without warning.
That should have been a sign.
Or maybe I needed the referee to come over to me and explain, “Hey, coach, I’m not having a very good day. They were out of my favorite Pop-Tarts at the grocery, my wife was upset with me for leaving the toilet seat up and the dog chewed on my favorite slippers.
If only I knew.
Troublesome Tyrese
Then there was Tyrese Jackson. My pouty point guard with the poor attitude, who in the last week had broken a vile during COVID testing, and lied about stealing a teammate’s bracelet.
He’d already been suspended one game and sat out the last game for ten minutes.
I told him he still owed me five minutes of sitting.
He didn’t like it.
“I already sat for last game,” he argued.
If I sat him for everything this kid had done, he’d play about 59 seconds a game.
Beyond exasperation, I finally said, “Fine, Tyrese. You set the starting lineup. You sit one of the other five kids that doesn’t do all the crazy, annoying, defiant things you do on a daily basis. I think I’m being more than fair.”
And I stormed off.
As did he to call Lord knows who. Mom? Dad? The principal? Judge Wapner?
I sat on the bench and stewed during my coaching colleague’s entire seventh-grade game — I was the assistant— undecided what I would do. Would I give in and let him start? Let him set the lineup?
No way would I give in. Tyrese would sit.
A handful
Vincent Hall (1–6) gave my Trailblazers (6–1) all we could handle, and my crabby mood didn’t help.
Halftime we only led 20–14.
Clinging to a 25–20 lead midway through the third quarter, I hollered over at the bench to lanky Jack Riordan.
“Jack, go in for Tyrese. Quick. We need rebounds.
Jack bolted to the scorekeeper’s table and kneeled.
Our team was at the free-throw line. Rules state that after a made a free throw a substitution is allowed.
No buzzer, no signal, no subbing
It was a crackerjack gym with a small portable scoreboard and lacked a loud, annoying buzzer to get the referee’s attention.
So, I did what any educated, intelligent, vocal basketball coach would do.
I yelled.
When my player swished his free throw, and the referee did not signal my player to enter the game, I yelled “Sub.” At the top of my lungs.
Without hesitation, the angry referee jetted over to me — inches from my face — and yelled back “Technical!”
“For what?” I asked comically.
“I will not be yelled out from you,” he barked.
“How am I supposed to get my sub in? There’s no buzzer and you didn’t look over.”
Not a happy camper
He repeated, “I will not be yelled at from you.” Without any explanation, he continued to lecture me — his face turned shiny red — like I was a four-year-old who was being punished because their parent was in a bad mood.
He stood there, waiting for me for me to respond. I didn’t. And if I had said one word, or even looked at him funny, I know he would have dramatically tossed me out of the gym. I wouldn’t give him the honor.
It was the fourth technical of the night he called. A variety of oddball calls on both teams. Excessive? Absolutely.
It shifted the momentum of the game. Vincent Hall went on an 8–2 run to take a 28–27 lead.
Scared to sneeze
And I could say a peep, fearful I would be teed again and kicked out of the gymnasium — so every missed foul and missed traveling call I just sat bewildered and silent.
I called timeout and told my players, “Well, I’m pissed off is anyone else?”
They all had eyes of fire and responded, “Yes, coach.”
And we went on a 14–0 tear, winning 49–36.
The final buzzer sounded. I gave my team a quick talk. We yelled, “Stallions!” to acknowledge the visiting team, and I looked for the referees to shake hands, say good job — be the bigger man — and display positive sportsmanship for my impressionable players.
But the referee was nowhere to be found.
Fastest exit in history on middle-school athletics.
Where’d he escape? A sidedoor? The batmobile? A secret disguise?
Lessons learned
What’d I learn from my eventful, loud — but hardly argumentative — technical?
- Know your referee’s personality. Do a background check. Study their body language, facial expressions, and sense what kind of mood they are in.
- No yelling. Period. And certainly not in the direction of the referee.
- Kill them with kindness. The next time we shot free throws, I asked referee №2, “Sir, would it be okay if I were able to substitute after this free throw?” He smiled and responded, “Sure.”
Thanks for reading my story.
Tagging my polite sports fans who would never say anything to a referee: Jameson Steward, Scott Younkin, Scot Butwell, Deborah Camp, Lisa Gerard Braun, Sreese, Gerald Sturgill, Lu Skerdoo, Evon, MarkfromBoston 🐾🍻, Sarah Jean, Klara Jane Holloway, Bridie Dillon.
You might also enjoy:
