Halloween party for Breast Cancer Awareness

We went, we impressed, we didn't win

(but Suzie Q's udders did actually dispense milk!)

(Barney & Betty Rubble - what acute couple)

testing 1, 2, 3

just testing out our new scanner/printer

pastel chalk by D. B. circa 1973

bonus points to the first person who can identify the subject in the drawing

(employees & relatives are not eligible to win)

I know the answers, if only I could figure out the questions

Like all people, taking a test brings to me an amount of anxiety - not debilitating, not even an obstacle, more like simply unwelcome thoughts that I know I should just ignore. Every year, all USAHockey referees have to attend a seminar and take a 50 question True/False closed book test. Before that, we have all already taken a 100 question open book test online, and started ref'ing games - so our heads should be pretty well into the sport by now. So last night I attended the last Mass. District USAHockey Seminar of the current season - a special session for level 3 officials only (guys & gals who have been ref'ing for at least 4 years - many like me in the 20+ range). We were mildly scolded over the appalling fact that apparently 66% of level 3 officials failed the level 3 test last year (it occurred to me that although no names were named, I think I've worked with a few of them!). One guy spent only 7 minutes to answer the 50 questions (he got 16 answers correct, and bounced back to beginner level 1 for his lack of effort).This year the instructrs were trying a new teaching techinque - we would all break down into groups of 6, each be given a copy of last years test, and one answer sheet per group. Using whatever resources we had at our disposal (rule books, manuals, cellphones, laptops, whatever) we were to answer the 50 questions. Whichever group was first to answer all 50 correctly would win a prize. So far in all previous seminars, the fastest time was 47 minutes. I was at a table with a gentleman about my age and a teen-20 kid, while across the aisle was a table of two teens and a 20something guy. As the kid next to me moved across to that table I thought to myself I should sit with the teenagers because everybody knows that teenage boys know everything there is to know and are never wrong - so I (and the guy next to me) joined them. Like most groups, we answered most questions quickly and confidently while a few elicited some amount of discussion and debate. Maybe six questions prompted somebody to open the rulebook to try to find the answer. We were one of the quicker groups to present our answers, but were told we had two wrong (but not told which two) - so had to go figure it out and correct ourselves. I know that there are always questions that are confusing due to the way they are worded - maybe/ maybe not trick questions, but certainly ones that can cause you to question the question ("what are they asking?"). I had already circled a few that I was suspicious of the first time through, so I immediately went back to revisit them. Almost immediately I had one of those "Oh, Duh!" moments and pointed out why #2 was false, not true. The other 5 looked, said "Oh, Duh", changed our answer and searched for the other incorrect answer. We had a few suspects, so we changed one more and brought it back again. "Still not 100% correct". I went back again to the one that bothered me the most, so we broke it down piece by piece as picky and technically as we could. With less than unanimous agreement, I convinced my teammates that we should change the answer and try again. BINGO! And we have a winner - and in record time of 43 minutes - DESTROYING the previous record time.

And we all got a nice Mass - USAHockey T-shirt for our efforts.

Then we got to take the real test. From experience I know that the most commonly missed questions from the previous year are always reworded and included into the current years test, and we had just disected last years test thoroughly. So despite the previous admonishment to take our time and think critically about our answers, I opted for the advise once given to me by the late great Referee-in-chief Milt Kaufman - "take the test like you are ref'ing a game. You don't have time to sit and dwell when you are on the ice. The situation happens and you make the call. If you know the rules, you will instictively make the right call." And of course if you DON'T know the rules, no amount of time spent thinking about them is going to help you. This has served me well for about 25 years, and I was the second person to hand in my completed test. As I stepped out of the meeting room into the hallway, I met my two District supervisors. I jokingly noted that I took longer than 7 minutes, and admitted that I will be really embarassed if I fail it this year. Bill laughed and said "No way, not you" and turned to Skip and said "He aced it last year you know". Apparently, that was noteworthy although it was a bit unnerving to think that out of a few hundred officials they oversee and the amount of incidences they had to address over the course of a year that he would remember what my last years test score was.

Referees should never 2nd guess themselves

"PeeWee C" games can be interesting because most of the kids are being allowed to check for the first time, and they aren't very good at it yet. They don't know how to give a hit, or take one. It leaves lots of leeway for a referee to decide what call to make (or not) and what level of severity to apply to it. So many times just this weekend I could have been choosing between "Charging" (aka taking a run at a player), "Boarding" (hitting an opponent violently into the boards), "Checking From Behind" (considered the most dangerous offense of all), or "Late/Avoidable Check" (self-explanatory) - if only the checker had actually hit the checkee instead of plastering himself into the boards when the intended victim sidestepped him, or he simply missed his intended victim (I say "him/he" because although girls do indeed play at this level, they are rarely so blatently out to kill). So when I witnessed what should be considered a check from behind, I blew the whistle, signaled the offender to the penalty box, and proceeded to skate in that direction. One trick a referee has at his disposal is to wait until he reaches the penalty box area before announcing the actual penalty being called - giving him the opportunity to mull over the options and pick the best one without committimg too early to a regretable call. So on my way I decided it was really mostly a shove, not a meanspirited check, and although no physical harm done it was worthy of a penalty so to send a message. I decided a 1-1/2 minute minor "Boarding" call would be sufficient, instead of issueing the 1-1/2 minute minor plus 10 minute misconduct required for a "Check From Behind" call. The Coach started arguing with me (in itself worthy of a penalty) as soon as I got within talking distance, but I was in a good enough mood so I explained that they were getting off easy because my first inclination was to call the "Check from behind" so therefore they were catching a break. Now clearly I didn't realize I was dealing with a very smart coach, who explained to me that the check wasn't hard enough to qualify as "violently into the boards". Now I've been wrong before as a referee (thinking I had made a mistake when i actually hadn't) and this clearly was another instance when I was proved to be wrong. Therefore I told the coach that I was willing to grant his wish and NOT call the penalty a 1-1/2 minute Boarding. I would revert to the proper call for the infraction - a 1-1/2 minute minor plus 10 minute misconduct for the Check From Behind (which also requires a second player to go into the box - someone has to come out when the other kid's first minor penalty expires but his misconduct starts). There - I'm happy - I finally got the call right for the type of hit delivered.
(I'm not sure the coach has yet figured out what hit HIM yet, tho')
(shame I wasn't in a bad mood - I would have given the coach a Bench Minor penalty to top it all off, but he had already made my day and probably a few more to come, and that would have just been plain vindictive on my part and I am supposed to remain calm & professional throughout all)

my brush with radio fame

Joe & I pulled into the 4-H club parking lot for his chicken club meeting and the first thing I noticed was the abnormal number of vehicles. It was a small sporatic club last year, but apparently this year shall be different - lots of new members. One of the new members neighbor is a former longtime 4-H'er who is going to be an assistant leader. Her Boyfriend attended with her, bearing many gifts for the club. T-shirts, mouse pads, pens, event tickets - all bearing the call letters of the Boston radio stations he works for. When introduced I knew immediately who he was, and was bummed that I had actually chosen to NOT were my Beatles sweatshirt - because he is the Sunday morning host of a radio show that showcases them and offers lots of trivia. I listen to him often while I drive to or from the rink. He promised to have something for me at next months meeting. Julie already wants it - not even knowing what it is (other than "SWAG"). Maybe she will come and audit the class!! 4-H IS cool!

... because it feels so good when I stop!

You know the old routine that goes
Question: "Why do you do (insert torturous activity here)?"
Answer: "Because it feels so good when I stop!"

Well it doesn't always work out like that. I refereed 4 games in the morning (3 by myself - no partner - and it is a simple equation that having only half of the typical two referees means double the skating at twice as hard for the one referee). Then we went hiking in the Blue Hills for 2 hours. The skating I handled rather well, then the legs were a bit sore during the hiking. But sitting for an hour in the restaurant - 'tho at first seeming like "it feels so good when I stop!"- was a killer when it was time to stand up and move again.

After 25 years, you would think no more surprises

But of course you would be wrong. No - not the marriage (not for this post anyway) - I've been refereeing hockey for close to the amount of time we've been married (actually maybe longer - I'm not sure anymore). So far after a month of games, it has been fairly calm and uneventful. The only noteworthy (barely) instances have been tossing a Bantam coach from a game - for protesting too loud and too long over a "NON-Icing" call, and a new unexpected twist - the first time I ever had a parent from the stands demand a time-out and cause his team a penalty (and I thought I had already seen it all - silly me).
So it's during a Peewee game (everyone is about 13 years old), it's halfway through the game and as I'm about to drop a faceoff, the league director calls me to the rink gate. The blue team's goalies father is insisting we stop the game so his daughter - the goalie - can change masks. He claims the one she's wearing doesn't fit right and is hurting her. I suggest that in 5 minutes the period will end and there will be a short timeout. At this the father's anger level starts rising and warns me that this is not an acceptable solution. I advise the director and the father that the only other option is to call a "Delay of Game" penalty on the blue team and change the mask, but of course I should really skate over and let the blue teams coach know what is going on. So I skate across to the players bench, where the blue teams coach askes "what's the problem?". I explain the mask situation, and he asks "can't we wait until the end of the period?". I reply that was my idea, but Dad is insistant, and if the mask is getting switched now - they will have to take the penalty. The coaches look at each other, then the director who has arrived with the new mask, then the goalie, then at each other, shrugged and said "we'll send somebody over to the penalty box". I'm guessing that they had never had a parent force them to take a team penalty. I can't wait to see what else I haven't seen yet!

Canoes & picnic tables don't mix

While Suzie, Joe & I were leisurely paddling around the pond, Jamie was fishing and Tim was lounging along the shore. Auntie Maria walked down and while chatting with the boys, watched three young guys (20ish types) toss a picnic table from the town beach off the town docks into the pond. They then proceeded to sit on the beach just watching it float. Maria (former teacher, current member of the committee that oversees the town beach, and next door neighbor to the beach) walked over to confront the boys. Using I'm sure her well-honed "scornfull teacher" voice got the boys to agree that they would indeed pull the table out of the water. 10 minutes later they were still watching it from the beach. Having finished our canoe trip, and having been brought up to speed with the picnic table saga, it became my turn to do something. I walked across the beach to the parking lot area, surveyed the half-dozen vehicles, and tried to guess which would be the most likely get-away car, and started writing down license plate numbers. The Taurus with the mega-boom box speakers in the rear windshield seemed almost too obvious so as I walked back I asked them which car was theirs. They refused to look at me, answer me, or react in any way whatsoever. I specifically asked if theirs was the Taurus, but was greeted (or "un"greeted) by the same non-response. Jamie, who never misses any drama watched the whole scene while pretending to fish off the docks. Almost immediately after I was off the beach and out of sight on "our side" Jamie called over to say they were running for their cars. Before I could get to a close enough vantage point, they were peeling out of the lot in two vehicles (btw - NOT the Taurus). Apparently, as soon as they decided I had the wrong plate number, they figured they better escape at first chance. I found it pretty humorous to think these three 20-something kids were brave enough to pick on a defenseless picnic table, but too scared to face the consequences of such a petty offense. Of course I now had to go get the picnic table out of the water, so I grabbed some rope and hopped back into the canoe and paddled over to were the picnic raft was floating. In case you ever have to perform an aquatic rescue of a table from a canoe, it doesn't go as smoothly as you may think. I did manage to tow it close enough to then wade in and pull it the rest of the way to land. Jamie helped me haul it back up onto the beach, then we all hoisted the canoe up onto the roof of the van (also, not as easy at it may sound - the van roof is about 7ft up) and headed for home to dry-dock the vessel for the winter.

Homecoming Queen Julie - 2008

Slipping

OK - I admit it - I'm slipping.

I no longer check Paula and Kate's blogs daily.

(Seriously, that's a good thing 'cause they NEVER BLOG anymore and haven't for some time now - and it's too OCD of me to keep looking)

(sorry ladies, it's just that we miss you and wish there was something new there to read!)