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Starting with a Handshake: The Perspective of a Youth Official
By: Jack Sabo It’s early in the morning, and I just finished a squirt game with my partner, who like me, is a teenager. Another referee, clearly older, walks into the dressing room. He nods his head at us and goes about getting ready for his game, but he doesn’t talk to us, shake our hands, or introduce himself. Sadly, this scenario actually happens all too often in the officiating world. Thankfully, my first referee experience was nothing like this. I was eleven years old, and it was a higher level middle school game, so I was extremely nervous. So nervous...
From Behind the Glass: Life as a Referee Parent
By: Dan Stackhouse Firstly, I would like to thank Matt Bell for telling his story. He is wise beyond his years. When he spoke about the 14-year official who has been only reffing for about a year or so, it was like he was speaking directly about my son. My son started reffing last season at the age of 13. Being a relatively quiet kid who avoids confrontation it was a surprise when he said he wanted to start reffing hockey. He loved playing the game - but reffing? That’s a whole other matter. My son has embraced his...
From Between the Pipes to Between the Lines
By: Alex Curran Like most of us, my hockey obsession started very young and I came to love the game very quickly. Though I had a strong love for the game, I couldn’t start playing until my second year of atom due to family financial issues. From day one, I always knew I wanted to be a goalie (even though my parents were always trying to convince me otherwise). It was in my blood. In fact, my very first year playing, we had two goalies and our coach insisted on doing full game rotations. While one was playing, they wanted the other...
My Time Between the Lines: Experiences in Refereeing
I could hear the familiar sounds of skates carving ice.
Pucks ricocheting off boards. The muffled voices of parents and players echoing off in the distance. That rink smell, rubber and ice. I left our small dressing room, walking a dimly lit corridor towards the ice.
Despite these familiarities, something was very different this time. I was no longer a player; I was now a referee.