A standing Ovation!

As many of you already know, I am actively pursuing a retirement side hustle in refereeing. I fell in love with basketball at an early age ... thank you Jimmy Stevenson ... and after 50+ years playing, coaching, and now officiating. I felt like I had pretty much seen it all.

That changed the other day when I witnessed an example of the true love of the game with my front row seat!

I travelled to the quaint city of Midland the other day for an assignment to officiate at Georgian Bay Secondary, a shining, beautiful newer high school that I had not previously been privileged to experience. The game featured a regular season clash between Barrie's Nouvelle Alliance Tournades and the host GB Bears. I had little to no previous knowledge of either's 2023 standings but I was astutely aware of historical trends siding with Nouvelle's proficiency on the hardcourt.

Watching the teams warm up, I immediately recognized that while enthusiasm was plentiful, the skill level was a work in progress, and I surmised that the teams would prove to be fairly equal, making for a potentially exciting game. As the first quarter played out, the visitor's side of the scoreboard built steadily, turning over with regularity thanks to some decent defensive pressure that produced a number of transition layups. The home team wasn't specifically outmatched, but try as they may, they couldn't turn quality scoring opportunities into points.

As the first quarter horn sounded, the game was already a lopsided affair, yet I found myself internally cheering for the hosts. I had been a part of games in my coaching career where despite superlative efforts, the success was a long time in coming, but I had rarely seen or been a part of a game with a goose egg. 

As the second quarter commenced, I had every confidence that GB would finally find the mark.

After all, their coach wore a huge grin as they employed his offensive systems, often resulting in point blank range shots with time to execute the skill without pressure, but despite his cheers and use of time outs to praise their efforts, the rim's aperture seemed to be shrinking with each passing minute.

As the GB players took to the court to start the second half, I fully expected to see some long faces and chins on chests, but to my delightful astonishment, their faces were adorned with wide grins and mouths chattering with excited energy, so I was hopeful that the bagel would be dealt with. Sadly, the proof was in the pudding, and the second half proved to be a continuance of the first, the Tornades steadily building their total while the Bears' shots careened off the rim. I will admit that my sense of internal professionalism was in serious jeopardy as I willed the ball with all of my might to find it's target, and even with the cheers of the partisan crowd to bolster their efforts, that cursed orange sphere would simply not cooperate for the home side. 

In the end, the final horn signalled the completion of my duties, and with it, any opportunity for redemption, the zero shining as bright as a dying star. I realized that I had witnessed something previously unseen. As the equipment was dismantled and I changed my gear for the trek back to the beach, I anticipated a few downtrodden souls to pass on the way out of the gym. 

The parental praise, the big smiles, and the laughter of self-critical replays of the game's action told a much different story.

Despite the lack of scoring success, the game proved to be an enjoyable, positive affair for the home side, and I came away with a new found appreciation for the saying, "For the love of the game". The easy thing to do would have been to complain about fairness, or coaching, or officiating, but these families were anything but sad.

Kudos to NA for their execution and effort, but also for the way they addressed the situation. It would have been easy to slip into making a mockery of the game, but they play with all possible integrity and sportsmanship. 

Kudos to GB for giving it everything they had.

I learned a valuable lesson that day. While I'll still admit that winning is waaaaaay better than losing, it begs the confession that if one plays as well as one can, the outcome truly doesn't matter.

I give the host players and coaches my personal standing ovation!