The players have finished their warmups and are casually skating in long looping circles. Everything has worked out just as he planned; the coaches, the players, the two linesmen and the fans are all waiting for him.

The referee raises his helmet to inspect his handiwork, nods to himself in approval, places it solidly on his head and deliberately fastens the chin strap. He's ready.

He skates around the ice twice, slowly and carefully stretching his arms and his legs. On his third cycle he leans over each net to quickly inspect the mesh for holes, even though the linesmen have already verified they're fine. Then he approaches each bench, shaking hands with the coaches. He delivers an identical message.

"Keep your boys under control. I won't tolerate swearing and only the captains talk to me. Anyone who complains will get sent to the box. Now have a good game."

He skates to centre ice where the two centres have been waiting patiently at the face-off circle for at least a minute. He drops the puck and the game is underway.

Less than a minute in, he makes his first call.

"Number two white, that stick isn't a weapon. You keep doing that and you'll spend the entire game in the box."

He skates to a spot 10 feet away from the timekeepers' bench and stops in a spray of ice shavings. His thrusts his right hand straight in front of him, with his other hand he makes a short chopping motion: two minutes for slashing.

Less than 30 seconds later he calls another infraction on the team in white. This time it's for interference. Once again he makes the big stop in front of the timekeepers bench and announces the penalty with bold, sweeping gestures.

"Hey ref. What the hell are you doing out there? Just let them play the game."

This comes from the back row where the fathers are gathered. Most refs hear the insults, but they're trained to let it wash over them, knowing that it's part of the environment. He hears them, every single word of them. He skates backwards to the face-off circle as he scans the crowd, trying to match the voices to the faces he surveyed before the game had begun.

It doesn't take long for the team in blue to score. They aren't great, but a two-man advantage makes things a lot easier.

"Are you happy now ref?"

This time it's one of the mothers who hollers as he announces the goal scorer to the timekeeper.

The second penalty is over and the teams are just getting into the flow of the game when the referee blows his whistle again.

"17 white. That was a hold. You've got two"

"What the hell are you talking about? I hardly even touched him. How can you call that a hold? What have you got against us, you jerk?"

The player turns to skate to the penalty box. The ref pushes to overtake him and plants himself between the player and the box, forcing him to stop. The ref gets in the players' face.

"When I call a penalty I expect you to keep your mouth shut and skate to the penalty box. I'm not going to take any grief from you."

The response is instant.

"Screw you!"

The refs' hands go to his hips in the abrupt, hard motion that signifies a misconduct.

"17, you've got ten and if you say one more thing you're gone for the game."

The player goes to the penalty box, slams the door shut and throws his stick with enough force that it bounces from one corner to the other.

"Booooooooo" Many of the parents have started to scream in protest, but this noise rises above the other heckling. It's deafening and goes on and on. The ref turns to the crowd and stares at the man who's making the noise. The obnoxious din continues.

The team in blue takes advantage of the power play and takes a 2-0 advantage.

As the referee skates back to the faceoff circle the coach of the white team beckons to him.

"Hey ref, can I talk to you?"

The ref skates closer to the bench.

"Coach, I told you at the beginning of the game to keep your mouth shut so don't say another word."

The coach nods in agreement.

"Yeah, I know. I'm not arguing, I just want to tell you…"

"Coach, I told you to keep your mouth shut. You just got yourself a bench penalty!"

The coach is incredulous.

"All I wanted was to tell you there's a piece of tape on the ice and you should pick it up. Are you out of your mind?!"

The referee goes ballistic.

"I told you to shut up and I meant it. Get off the bench. You're gone for the night!"

The players are incredulous. The fans scream even louder.

The referee skates to centre ice, stops, looks into the crowd and smiles. The anger of the parents, players and coaches is palpable. His enjoyment of the moment raises the level of anger. He doesn't care. They know he's in control, and that's exactly what he likes.

LETTERS   [Email Ken here]

You sound like a complainer ... maybe the White team should have played a better/smarter game. Always the refs fault, isn't it?

Dennis A. Marinac
.....

This is just to respond to Dennis A. Marinac's letter, as I thoroughly enjoyed the column Ken...

Obviously Mr. Marinac doesn't get the fact that this story was not about the game, but the referee. For the ref, it was all about the power of controlling the situation, not allowing them to be kids and have fun playing their game. Mr. Marinac, with that attitude, I hope you don't have a son (or daughter) in hockey.

Chad Bartsch, Edmonton
.....

How about this?

Atome BB semi-finals and I`m the referee. The game is intense for all, so
much so that the linesmen were even getting it from the crowd when calling
close offsides. Parents and coaches yelling at me throughout the game but I
don`t like becomming the show so I always let it go. There were a minimum
amount of penalties called pretty even on both sides. The score was 3 to 0
for the green in the third period when they thought they scored another goal
but I did not see it go in and neither did the linesmen. The white team
scored shortly after, then again and tied the game in the last minute with
the goaler pulled. Before the overtime period could start I had to throw
out 2 coaches and one parent from the green because the yelling became too
extreme and vulgar. The white team won in overtime to advance to the
finals. The remaining coaches for the green would not let their team shake
hands with the others and at this point I had one father step onto the ice
to come after me. Someone else threw a water bottle at me and yet another
person threw a puck clear across the ice at me.

As a side bar my wife came to the arena with my daughter of 7 and son of 4
years who wanted to watch daddy referee. During the third period while the
score was still 3 to 0 she was verbally attacked by a parent of the white
team who recognized her and apparently felt that it was my fault that they
were losing. My wife tried three different locations in the arena but this
woman followed and harrassed her. Finally the employee from the arena put
her and my kids in a private box used by employees and she was told that if
she came out that she would be instigating something...?

In the town where I referee there used to be 18 referees on the staff when I
started 12 years ago. This year we were 5. I wonder why?

5 referees with 8 games to cover every week-end means many hours away from
home and the family and now I don`t even know if it is safe to bring my
family with me.

Everytime I step on the ice I want to have a good game and hope that we as
referees do not make any mistakes that affect the outcome. My supervisor
was at that game and told me after that the puck did in fact go in which
would have made the score 4 to 0 for the green. As it turned out it was my
last game of the year and the season ended on a sour note for me. Along
with those from the green team there was one other person who felt terrible
and that was me.

I`m not sure why but I`ll be back again next year.

Michael Johnston
Referee in Chief
Bedford, Que