Hey Wild fans!
In this edition of "The 5-Hole" we'll be discussing one of those commonly voiced yet rarely editorialized subjects in the game...the officiating!
Throughout this season it seems there's been more consternation than ever before about the officiating.
The officials in the NAHL are up-and-comers, hard at work trying to climb the ladder of levels in an effort to arrive at the next one above the Junior-A plateau, learning right along with the players and coaches during each and every game.
In my book, a good official is a consistent one. They might have a propensity for letting a lot of potential infractions go uncalled or they might be cut from the "ticky-tack" mould and heavily scrutinize just about everything during a game.
I don't really mind it either way, as long as they are consistent about it.
I will admit that when there is an apparent lack of knowledge about some of the basic or even advanced portions of the rulebook, it does frustrate me just a tad. But again, at this level the officials are still skating with their training wheels on.
One thing that isn't common but does show up from time to time is what I like to call a "fruit striper".
Why this ridiculous sounding name you ask?
Well, do any of you remember chewing something as a kid called "Fruit Stripe" gum?
This stuff tasted atrocious and was made by our friends at the Beech-Nut company (no I did not get paid for calling them "friends").
The wrapper featured a cartoon zebra who's stripes weren't of the usual black and white variety, but rather a colorful mixture of many colors (presumably of those represented on the sticks of gum) so as to stand out from the rest of the herd.
This mythical creature from the land of high-powered advertising directed at children is an all too real life form in the sport of hockey and can leave a similarly putrefying taste in your mouth by game’s end.
So to further answer the question of what this creation is all about, we’ll need to explore part of what makes a real zebra tick.
In the wild, zebras wear their stripes in order to blend in to their surroundings and avoid being captured by would-be predators.
Just the same in the sport of hockey, the natural intention is that the officials coalesce into the game's backdrop in order to unbiasedly interpret the play and enforce the rules when necessary.
Of course, just like in nature, every once in a while a lone zebra strays from the herd in an effort to showcase how much better his markings look than all of the other animals on the prairie. There’s your "fruit striper" all right!
These pompous defectors who would risk the overall safety of their own kind in order to showcase their selfish flamboyance generally fall victim to the law of the jungle out in the wilderness by getting chomped down by a hungry lion or gnashed on by a smiling crocodile.
Unfortunately in the game of hockey, the men clad in these stripes are in fact, the law of the jungle. So the adjudicators that stray do not fall prey to the fearsome beasts that they might face in the natural world, although they may have to endure a snarling rabble of fans and steady stream of venom spewed forth by the players and coaches.
Ultimately however, there will be no separating this fortunately rare and artificially banded anomaly from having an impact on the outcome of the contest.
This metaphorical example linked to a disappointing product from my childhood is just one in a litany of many that are possible to present that revolve around how poor officiating can leave a negative impression on the sport and it's many games played.
But alas, I don't really wish to make the focus of our entire time chatting about the refs to be all bad.
In fact, I must say that I believe it takes a very special type of devotee to the sport in order to perform one of it's most thankless tasks.
The job at hand every game is an undoubtedly ungratifying one by weight of the external factors involved to be certain.
Just about every whistle blown for any reason, along with every whistle that could have been sounded by one individual perception or another, will surely draw the ire of almost every single person in the building, and even those watching or listening to the game half-a-world away.
That in itself has got to be a tough fate to realize before even getting dressed for work.
Besides the abuse the officials subject themselves to during each and every contest, they also go vastly under-appreciated for a number of other duties that all those surrounding the game seem to take for granted.
Firstly is their ability to consistently have a positive influence on the game by communicating a mantra of balance to the players who are involved.
If you sit close enough to the action or have ever been in some way involved in an actual hockey game yourself, then you know how much talking is always going on throughout the entirety of play.
The officials have as big a role in this nuance as anyone else does, and the best ones use this banter, along with their body language and occasional interventions to enforce the rules to set a stabilizing equilibrium for the entire game.
You must know already that there are many games that could get way out of hand which don't because of this factor! (even though you fans love it when there is a ten car pileup during a game ;-)
Another aspect to an officials repertoire that goes largely without thought is their physical ability and skill at keeping up with the play.
It's often been said by many sports junkies that basketball officials are the best athletes among those who police our favorite pastimes. I heartily disagree with that conclusion myself, believing instead that hockey officials should crown the list without a doubt.
Think about it. They can all skate at very high levels, and do so without a pause for breath during long intervals, and always while remaining ever-vigilant, with a watchful eye to all of the game's activities.
The officials also have to be tough as well. They are in the line of fire at all times, and we have seen many absorb the pain of a booming slapshot, get clipped with a stick in the face or even get barreled over by a hulking defenseman in full pads and gear.
Oh, and I’m certain they have all had to gut out being repeatedly spit upon by tirading coaches and players. Remember too, that they also have to break up a brawl at least every-so-often!
However, the biggest item that I feel goes completely unappreciated by many in the game, especially the fans, is the sheer love of the sport that so many officials possess.
Contrary to what most assume, many officials have no desire to interfere with the game at all. Quite the opposite actually. The officials get the best seat in the house to soak up the very essence of the sport even though they have a job to do, and most have no desire to cause a tremor in the beauty of it’s fluidity.
Coaches love to think the game, to strategize and win. Players love to showcase their physical abilities and to compete. Fans love to eat hot dogs and consume copious amounts of their favorite beverages while they are entertained.
All of those folks love the game in their own way. But each and every one of the officials who I have ever known or been around has a passion for the game in an incredibly deep and profound way.
It's as though there is an ardor for hockey's very constructs in the most fundamental of ways, in addition to any and all of the strobes of minutia that twinkle within that universe.
Going too far in saying all of this, am I? Consider this question then; "would you want to be a hockey official?" And if so, for what reason? Is it for one of purity and the desire to keep the sport's balance in check? Or is it because you think you'd look real good strutting around the ice in those multi-colored stripes?
Yes, it's true I'm afraid. There are bad calls, and even bad officials I suppose, and there always will be. That's just the nature of this beast...the human!
In an age of high-tech gizmos that are ever-replacing the factions of humanity's theoretical shortcomings, there simply is no substitute for people. Even when they make mistakes. After all, it's part of a game that was invented, played, coached, watched and enjoyed by people.
So the next time you come out to a game at Town Toyota Center and you don't like something the officials have called. Let them know. In your loudest and most obnoxious voice they hope. Don't worry, they're used to it. They expect it. The game’s very existence depends on it.
And while your at it, just stop and think to yourself how much fun it would be to bark your emotional ravings at a robot instead of those unacknowledged humans in zebra's clothing. Yes, even the one’s who look like our old vile tasting pal from Fruit Stripe Gum {:o)
