Decisions In Black and White (Stripes)
By Abe Wyett
It’s difficult to find anyone in sports more disliked than the referee, the voice of impartial and fair play. Good calls are seldom rewarded, and missed calls are invariably met with animosity. Even their uniforms–those ridiculous striped jerseys–seem to invite abuse and insult. Fans demean referees, lampoon their intelligence, call them zebras, even question their eyesight: Are you blind? Did you forget your glasses? Entire stadiums often burst into chants, shouting obscenities at the referees.
And more than once I’ve wanted to.
Because referees are easy to hate. I’ve been there. We all have. They are an easy scapegoat–people who just won’t let our team play the way it wants to. Referees belong to no team, represent no city or fan base. There’s no team called the “Boston Refs.” And they are oh so easy to blame. If the Red Sox lose a game on a blown call, then it’s the referee’s fault. But if they win on a correct safe call, it’s the glory of the Sox — no congratulations for the referees. And, lastly, who likes authority, in politics, in the corporate world, and most of all, in sports?
It’s easy to forget that officials are human, too. Humans who hear offensive chants and comments almost every night, but rarely have the opportunity – or the platform – to respond, or even to explain the rationale behind their contested calls.
Which brings us to the curious case of Eric Lewis. Over 19 seasons, the veteran ref has officiated in multiple NBA finals. But towards the end of the last NBA season, the league announced that Lewis would not be among the 12 person crew to work this year’s finals. The reason? It appears that Lewis might be the owner of @CutliffBlair, an anonymous “burner” Twitter account where the owner–allegedly Lewis–discussed his work, and the work of his NBA colleagues. In one tweet, the owner of the account replies to a fan who accuses him of favoring the Boston Celtics: “Not sure if that’s true either. Pretty sure there are other refs with similar stats with top teams.”
This isn’t the first time referees have been under scrutiny. Or threatened or punished.
The Euro 2004 featured England versus Portugal, a match etched into the memory of fans forever — but for all the wrong reasons. In the 89th minute, referee Urs Meier disallowed an England goal, leading to that country’s eventual defeat in penalty shootouts. The game ended. Fans went home. But it didn’t end for Meier. England’s fans, with a history of violence, discovered his email and phone number. Meier’s email inbox teemed with thousands of alarming threats, a bombardment of hatred; he needed protection.
A referee committee later confirmed that Meier had made the right call. So in that sense, hatred was unwarranted. He’d just done his job, and done it correctly. But what about times when the hate is warranted, when the ref simply fumbles the call. Let’s take a look at the “Imperfect Game,” a near perfect game thrown by Detroit’s Armando Galarraga in 2010. With two outs in the top of the ninth, Galarraga looked to become one of only 19 pitchers to throw a perfect game since 1903, the World Series Era. But he didn’t. The 27th batter Galarrage faced, Cleveland’s Jason Donald, hit a slow infield roller and sprinted towards first. First base umpire Jim Joyce incorrectly called Donald safe. Goodbye perfect game. Hello umpire hatred.
Joyce made an incorrect call. Meier made the correct call. The distinction didn’t seem to matter to fans though. Why? Meier offered England fans the ideal scapegoat for their loss, the lone-standing official, the one without a fanbase. Joyce’s hate, too, may have resulted from humans’ natural inclination against authority. These two cases, those of Joyce and Meier, are extreme examples of referee hatred. But referees and other officials are hated on every day, with each pitch thrown, shot taken, or ball caught.
Fans will ultimately blame referees. It’s part of their nature, and, perhaps, part of the game. But that doesn’t mean leagues can’t work on lessening that human hatred and protecting their officials. While it’s difficult to mitigate officials’ margin of error, leagues can work on rectifying incorrect calls. In pro basketball, a fast-paced, physical game, the NBA allots coaches only one challenge per game, making it difficult to overturn calls — many of which may be incorrect. Perhaps the NBA could learn from Major League Baseball, where managers retain their challenge if their first one is successful. Giving coaches and managers a few more chances to challenge calls could make the game more fair. With a chance for an extra challenge, Joyce’s play could’ve been reviewed. While soccer does make ample use of its VAR–the Video Assistant Referee–coaches cannot initiate a challenge on a disputed call.
The XFL, an American Football minor League, offers an example of transparency that could be adopted by other leagues and sports. Reviewed plays are broadcasted to viewers, offering a window into the mind of an official during a call. Listening in to referees discuss a pivotal call helps fans accept the outcome and alleviates confusion feel. Rather than pitting fans against the referees — placing a border between them — the public review it allows us to feel included.
Lastly, referees need a voice. Whether Lewis created the account or not, the account tells us, as fans, that referees need a chance to defend themselves, to explain their calls. If referees had an official platform to talk on, they most likely wouldn’t be posting on Twitter.
“Nice call, zebra!”, one fan yells, sitting protected and alone in the stands. But the zebra cannot run, and the zebra cannot hide. It’s time the system is revamped to help out our “zebras.” Because our zebras aren’t unintelligent or unfeeling. And they do their best to be black-and-white–to enforce the rules and keep order in a melee of angered coaches, irritated players, and embittered fans.