The moment the application hit the counter, a flashback occurred.
I was only nine years old and it was only a high five several yards onto the field.
I stared as screaming, swearing and shouting ensued.
My dad was being kicked out of yet another soccer game by the referees that I hated.
Four times I watched him walk away from the field as the referee stood with a red card held high.
That smug bastard.
So as my application to be a referee for a city parks and recreation club fell into the hands of the “deciders” I felt deceit dig into my heart.
I was applying to be the enemy — the Ed Hochuli, the Tim Donaghy.
A tear fell for all my homies that had fallen to bad calls.
If they only knew…
But I have to try and change the stigma.
Knowledge must be my best friend as coaches scream in my face and parents bicker behind my back like a flock of ex-girlfriends.
I will be better by understanding what is on the line for the children rather than my self-esteem.
The surprising fit of the uniform is too close for comfort.
