Me, as Referee

“Why was I chosen as the chief referee for shot put?” I kept asking myself in sheer incredulity.

I learnt of the appointment during the most recent staff meeting.  My school would co-organize an interschool athletics meet with a neighbouring school and more than half of our school staff would be involved in the job of refereeing.  The other half would invigilate examinations because the athletics meet coincided with our semester examinations.

                I had never thought myself suited for the job.  For one thing, I knew nothing of shot put.  For another, I had never been appointed as a referee before.  It was almost a certainty that I would botch my job.  Besides, my body was not fit to undertake such a responsibility.  I was convalescing from a fever and the prospect of having to work in the hot sun for four consecutive days filled me with dread.

                I told a colleague about my problem but he told me that the principal would not accept it as an excuse.

                “Don’t try to shirk the responsibility,” he advised.  “Treat it as an opportunity to learn something new.”

                “What if I fainted?” I expostulated.  “Can the school deal with that?”

                “Then find someone to replace you on mutual agreement,” he said.

                I winced at the suggestion and told myself that I would take the job no matter what happened.  It was not possible for me to find someone to take over my job in so short a time.  Who wanted to swelter under the hot sun for four straight days?

                A day before the athletics meet I attended a briefing in the stadium. Mr. Chiong, a tall and heavy set sports officer, briefed us on the rules of all throwing events including shot put.  Many newly appointed referees were as ignorant as I was.  We plied him with many questions to clear our doubts.  After that, he took us on an excursion around the field, showing us the sector lines of every single throwing event and explaining how to detect foul throws from athletes.  Despite Mr. Chiong’s repeated reassurance that everything would run smoothly if we stuck to rules, I could not help feeling doubtful about my ability.

                The next day, I arrived at the stadium early in my father’s car.  The stadium was crowded with people.  I sat on a bench and applied sunblock to my face and arms to avoid sunburn. I silently prayed to God for strength to cope with my duty.  When I finished my prayer, the first event, Under 18 Girls’3000 metre race, began with the loud report of a gun.   The entire stadium shook with high-spirited cheering as the athletes raced past the grandstand.

I looked up at the sky and wished God would prolong the coolness of early morning.  In a short while the pinkish hues of the clouds would diminish and the heat of the sun would become more intense.  The public address system blared out periodic announcements reminding athletes to register themselves at the counters.                                                                                                                                             

Fifteen minutes before eight my assistant came with four girl students.  We took two shots and two small flags from the store keeper and headed to the field. 

                “Mr. Lo,” asked Mr. Enteri, my assistant.  “Can you brief the athletes on the do’s and the don’ts of shot put rules?”

                “Can you do that for me?” I pleaded.  “I am not that fluent in Malay and you can do a better job than I do.”

                “No problem,” said Mr. Enteri, smiling.  He was an experienced teacher in his late forties.  I was many years his junior.

                “What should we do, Mr. Lo?” asked a bespectacled girl.

                “You help Mr. Enteri to take the measurement of each throw,” I said.

                “What about me?” a pony-tailed girl asked, pointing to herself.

                “You pick up the shot after each throw,” I replied.

                “What about us?” asked the other two girls, one tall and the other plump.

                “If an athlete’s throw is legal,” Mr. Enteri said, handing a white flag to the tall girl. “Mr. Lo will say okay and you should raise the white flag.”

                Then, he turned to the plump girl and said, “In the case of a foul throw, Mr. Lo will say cancel and you should raise the red flag.”

                Having divided the jobs, I left the job of motivating the students to Mr. Enteri.  Young people like them needed a lot of moral boost.  Despite my lack of self-confidence, I smiled my widest to make them feel good.  If I put on a glum face, they may feel discouraged and the quality of our refereeing would be negatively affected.

                By eight o’clock, the first group of shot putters marched into the field.  They were all girls in the Under 15 category.  I was given a list with 27 names on it.  I called the roll and found out that three girls had withdrawn from the competition.

                We gave every athlete a free throw before the actual competition started.  Then, all of them went through three rounds to determine the final eight.  I kept my eyes open at all times to avoid making errors.  It was quite tiring going through the mechanical process of calling out athletes’ numbers, ascertaining all of them throw in the correct manner, taking the measurements of their throws and picking up the shots.  Occasionally my attention wavered and fortunately Mr. Enteri managed to alert me with his sharp, observing eyes.   We worked without stop until the athletes were whittled to eight.  By now the sun had reached its zenith and we sweated like hell.  I felt like giving up but I knew I should press on with determination.  As a chief referee, I should lead by example.

                “Mr. Lo, How’re things going?”

                I turned round and saw the hulking figure of Mr. Chiong, the sports officer. 

                “Everything’s fine,” I answered.  “The final eight has been determined.”

                The presence of Mr. Chiong gave me much pressure.  I felt ill at ease under his observing eyes.

                “RM106,” I called out the number of a girl.

                The girl picked up a shot and stepped into the rear of the circle.  Pushing the shot against her neck, she bent her left knee and moved her body up and down to gain momentum.  Then, she rotated 180 degrees across the circle and released the shot after a shout.  It sailed through the air and landed 6 to 8 meters from the toe board.

                I wanted to check if she had exited the circle correctly but sweat flowed into my eyes. I could not see anything with my blurred vision and I heard Mr. Chiong exclaim, “foul’.

                I opened my eyes in horror and heard Mr. Chiong say, “Mr. Lo, the girl accidentally stepped on the toe board.  You should be quick to say ‘foul’ “.

                I apologized and promised I would be more prompt in action.  The competition proceeded and I tried my best to be more focused.  I kept wiping sweat off my face.  I was uptight under Mr. Chiong’s scrutiny.

                When you are nervous, things always go paradoxically against you.  Out of carelessness, I messed up the order of the last four athletes and Mr. Chiong quickly put everything to right.  I kept apologizing effusively.  A few athletes tittered in amusement.

                “It’s okay,” Mr. Chiong said, tapping my back.  “Take a deep breath and you’ll be less jittery.”

                I was in a snit and told myself that I would not get into a similar blunder again.

                I heaved a sigh of relief when the first competition came to an end.  I was determined to do a better job in the next competition.

                There were fewer athletes in the next competition and I was glad that I was composed throughout the competition.  We also faced no problem the next day.  The sky was cloudy and we were not as tired as the previous day.  Everything went on smoothly.

                The third day was the most exhausting one.   We dealt with two categories of boy athletes and their number was much more than the girls’.  The sun was unbearably hot and it sapped away our energy.  At one point our girls were so tired that they lay sprawled on the ground, refusing to get up.  Mr. Enteri and I had to make them go back to work through a sweet talk.  Mr. Chiong came to observe us several times and I was able to stay focused on my job.  Occasionally a few teachers came and offered us assistance and we were thankful for their help.

                Every evening after I finished my job, I would have dinner in my parents’ home before going back home.  My Mum asked me to drink a lot of tonic water to replenish the lost fluids in my body.  I retired to bed early every night. The hectic job of refereeing made me dream about a lot of nonsensical things.  By the time I woke up in the morning, everything would be forgotten.

                It was interesting to meet athletes of different characters.  Most of them were large armed teenagers but they were not necessarily better throwers than the slimmer ones.    The boys were jovial and the girls shy. The boys were excited to see our girl volunteers and they made our refereeing job less boring with their banter.  It was also uplifting to see them lending support to each other.  However competitive they were, they did not forget about friendship.  The girls’ throws ranged from 5 to 10 meters while those of the boys were 8 to 15meters.

On the last day, the sun was equally scorching but I had surprisingly grown immured to it. I was able to execute my job efficiently.  At one time an athlete questioned why his throw had been cancelled and in a calm voice, I explained that he had exited through the wrong side of the circle. He protested but I put my foot down.  I was worried that he might resent me but fortunately he did not.  Mr. Chiong gave me a thumb up and I was very pleased with myself.

When the final competition ended, I shook hands with Mr. Enteri and the four girl volunteers.  We thanked each other for accomplishing the job of refereeing.  Without their help, I would not have had the spirit to move on with my job.  They made everything possible for me.

“Mr. Lo, well done for your job,” Mr. Chiong congratulated me, extending his massive hand.

“Thank you,” I said, shaking his hand.  “I owe everything to you.”

“Are you ready to referee the same competition in future?” he asked.

“I am,” I replied.  “If I were given the opportunity.”

The sports meet had taught me an important lesson.  I should be positive to partake in any new challenge.  To accomplish my job well I should stay focused and be observant.  Never whine and complain.

In a few minutes the closing ceremony would commence.  I decided to go home early to avoid the traffic jam.  Before leaving the hurly-burly of the stadium I gave myself a pat on the back.