The Sun Will Shine Again

I’d been feeling a little down lately; not just because of the ceaseless rains here in the Northeast, but for a number of other factors as well. The rain had forced the cancellation of recent games due to waterlogged fields, I’d eaten too much and exercied too little on my recent vacation with Jill, and I’d delayed our vacation by a day to ref some college scrimmages only to find out upon arrival at the field and seeing no one there and then calling my assignor that “oops, the games were actually played a week earlier”. This and more – not to mention the fact that some behemoth nutjob who belongs nowhere near a football pitch had threatened to kill me a few weeks back during a coed indoor match – was making me homesick for Soccer City USA (Portland, OR) where I’d been plying my trade for the past decade before returning to my real hometown (Delmar, NY) to be with the woman I love.

Among the many things that I miss about Portland and hope to recapture upon returning with Jill by the end of the year was the appreciation of my on-field work by the members of the local soccer community. Now, in no way do I mean to imply that I was constantly showered with applause before, during, and after every match. After all, this IS soccer we’re talking about. People there argue just as bitterly over many things both great and small.

The difference there, however, was that most often when I stepped onto the pitch there were familiar faces who’d seen me in action many, many times before. So even if they weren’t necessarily friends of mine – although many were – they were usually happy to see me, comforted by the knowledge that I’m pretty good at what I do and that I’m easy to communicate with.

Here in the Albany (NY) area it’s been like starting from scratch where I’ve had to prove myself all over again. And at times it’s been really quite difficult. From Day 1 I’ve found the scene here to be fraught with some seriously poor sports who have absolutely no respect for referees. Of course, people like this exist everywhere and there are plenty of good souls here too, but I think the prevailing indoor facility here, Afrim’s – which uses mostly untrained and unlicensed referees who are usually better players than they are referees (the opposite of me) – has done a great disservice to the local footballing community by not only exposing teams to unknowledgable and unprofessional referees, but also because Afrim cares more about the bottom line than anything else (including his referees), he is more apt to side with those who pay his bills (players) than referees (me AND many others who I’ve spoken with) when, for example, a referee’s life is threatened by one of his nimrod thugs.

So anyway, where am I going with this, you wonder? Well, last night the skies finally cleared, sort of, and about an hour-and-a-half before kickoff I received confirmation that my U12 game was on. I didn’t even care that I had to drive nearly forty-five minutes to make a tiny amount of cash to work a pre-teen game even though I knew that if I were in Portland on this night I’d be seeing some old friends and acquaintances in a far more competitive and challenging men’s game (which I much prefer) . I was just happy to have the opportunity to run around on the pitch, stretch my legs, and see a little footie action.

So there were some small puddles that occasionally affected play. But it didn’t really seem to bother the rather skilled group of youngsters who’d assembled for the match and it even reminded me a bit of home – Portland, that is…where temps were actually in the mid-90s on this spring day in May.

One of the kids on the home team finished off his first half hat-trick less than a minute before the intermission. And when the break soon arrived, he and several of his mates dashed off with their parents to make it to a school concert in time to sing their songs and make everyone proud.

The makeshift squad, now fielding many of their weaker players, managed to hang on for a 3 – 1 victory, clearly missing many from their starting lineup. And that was that.

But here’s the good part – the kind of thing that makes me put aside the negativity that often comes with being the only person who’s not part of a team during a soccer game. As I went over to the home team’s coach (the winning side) to fill out the game report, he told me that I was by far the best referee he’d seen all season. Naturally, this wasn’t the most difficult game I’d ever officiated, but still, it made me feel good.

And then as I walked towards my car past the other squad, one of the moms opened a plastic container filled with chocolate chip cookies and asked me if I wanted one. I almost grabbed a couple but thought better of it, thanking her and then gobbling it down as I continued.

As I approached my car another parent thanked me. And then as I sat on my bumper changing out of my mud-soaked shoes and socks, no less than half-a-dozen more parents walked by or leaned out of their car windows to thank me. And let me tell you, after some of the crappy experiences I’ve had lately it meant a lot even though they probably thought nothing of it. But then again, maybe they make a concerted to be good sports – win, lose, or draw.

It’s also possible that they’ve read the following article which was given to me not too long ago by my father. I now carry it with me at all times when I’m on the pitch. It’s a good reminder for everyone – parents, coaches, and players no matter what the age. Because maybe if we can all learn to be a little more civil to another during the heat of a game (GAME, not battle…this is not a life or death struggle we’re talking about here) then perhaps the lessons we learn on the pitch will extend into our daily lives as well.

So to the parents and coaches of the Lakeridge and Niskayuna U12 Boys teams, I thank you. You’ve given me hope in this dark time of need. You exemplify the very best in the game that we all love.

Until next time…

peace,
ac