Official Treatment

March 7, 2014

A book I quoted in this space three times last November – How: Why HOW We Do Anything Means Everything by Dov Seidman – has me thinking about sports officiating.

One premise of the book is that the Internet era has made the world so transparent and connected that there is no such thing anymore as “private” behavior or a “minor” mistake. Everything can become a public matter – instantly. Anything can become a major problem – overnight. Worldwide.

So, when our local real estate agent, who officiates junior varsity basketball, misses a call that an invested spectator captures with his or her smart phone camera, and sends to his or her relatives and a local media outlet that night, there is no limit to where that video could appear by the next morning.

And while major college and professional officials may now receive four-figure fees to work under those conditions, officials at the junior high/middle school and high school levels – sometimes working for little more than gas money - wonder if it’s worth the hassle. 

There are many obstacles to recruiting and retaining officials for school sports, including poor business practices by assigners and bad sportsmanship by coaches and spectators; but a significant factor not to be overlooked is the adverse potential of immediate worldwide criticism for a call that had to be made in the blink of an eye.

The human factor of sports is now subject to inhuman expectations. In an enterprise that strives for fairness, it appears that it’s the official who is being treated least fairly.

MVPs

November 10, 2015

This is the time of year when postseason banquets are occurring at many schools to mark the end of the fall season. In many cases, a “Most Valuable Player” will be announced and honored.

The qualities of the MVP are usually apparent ... often the player who scored the most points, gained the most yards, or won the most races or matches. But that’s not always the case; and it shouldn’t be.

Sometimes the MVP is the playmaker, the blocker for the scorer, or the team’s most inspiring player who energizes others or improves a team’s chemistry or performance in ways that statistics can’t measure.

I think about Major League Baseball’s American League MVP in 1942. It was Joe Gordon. That season, he led the major leagues in errors, strikeouts and most times hitting in double plays. But still he was the league’s MVP.

Sometimes referred to as “Flash Gordon,” this second baseman, who played for the Cleveland Indians and New York Yankees, was renowned for his defense. And he should serve as a reminder that sometimes the MVP is not such an obvious choice.