Me, As Referee(Edited)

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

I had learned of the appointment during the most recent staff meeting.  My school would co-organize an interschool athletics meet with a neighboring school and more than half of our staff would be refereeing the event.  The other half would proctor examinations, because the athletics meet coincided with our semester examinations.

                I had never considered myself as suitable for the job.  For one thing, I knew nothing about shot put.  For another, I had never been appointed as a referee before.  It was almost certain that I would botch the 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 informed me that the principal would not accept it as an excuse.

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

                “What if I faint?” I expostulated.  “Could 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 at such short notice.  Who wanted to swelter under the hot sun for four straight days?

                A day before the athletics meet, I attended a briefing at the stadium.  Mr. Chiong, a tall and large 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 bombarded him with questions to resolve 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 legal and foul throws from athletes.  Despite Mr. Chiong’s repeated reassurance that everything would run smoothly if we adhered to the rules, I could not help doubting 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 the strength to carry out my duty.  When I finished my prayer, the first event, the Under 18 Girls’ 3,000 meter race, began with the loud firing 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 the 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 the athletes to register at the counters.

At fifteen minutes before eight, my assistant, Mr. Enteri, arrived with four female students.  We took two shots and two small flags from the store keeper and headed to the field.

                “Mr. Lo,” asked Mr. Enteri.  “Can you brief the athletes on the dos and the don’ts of shot put?”

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

                “No problem,” said Mr. Enteri, smiling.  He was an experienced teacher in his late forties and 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.”

                Now that the jobs had been allocated, I left the task of motivating the students to Mr. Enteri.  Young people like them needed a big morale 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 had marched onto 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 remained sharply focused on the girls to avoid making errors.  It was quite tiring going through the mechanical process of calling out athletes’ numbers, ensuring that they all threw in the correct manner, taking the measurements of their throws, and picking up the shots.  We worked without stopping until the athletes had been whittled to eight.  By now, the sun had reached its zenith and we glistening with sweat.  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 around and saw the hulking figure of Mr. Chiong, the sports officer.

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

                Mr. Chiong’s presence put me under tremendous pressure.  I felt ill at ease under his observing eyes.

                I called out the number of a blue-shirted girl, “RM106!”

                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 let out a shout as she released the shot.  It sailed through the air and landed six to eight meters from the toe board.

                I wanted to check if she had exited the circle correctly, but there was sweat flowing down into my eyes.  I could not see anything through 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 to be more prompt in my actions.  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 corrected everything.  I kept apologizing profusely.  A few athletes tittered in amusement.

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

                I was in a snit and assured 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 one.

                There were fewer athletes in the next competition and I was glad that I had remained 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 ran smoothly.

                The third day was the most exhausting one.  We dealt with two categories of male athletes and they vastly outnumbered the girls.  The sun was unbearably hot and it sapped 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 sweet talk them back to work.  Mr. Chiong came to observe us several times, and I was able to stay focused on my job.  Periodically, a few teachers came to offer us assistance, and we were thankful for their help.

                Every evening after I had finished my job, I would have dinner at my parents’ house before returning home.  My Mum urged 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 I wokeup in the morning, everything would be forgotten.

                It was interesting to meet the athletes.  Most of them were large-armed teenagers, but they were not necessarily better throwers.  A few athletes were able to prove that technique was superior to brawn.  Character wise, the boys were jovial and the girls shy.  Some 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.

On the last day, the sun was equally scorching, but I had grown immune to it.  I was able to execute my job more efficiently.  At one point, an athlete asked me why his throw had been cancelled.  In a calm voice, I explained that he had left the circle in the wrong direction.  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 thumbs 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 continue with my job.  They made everything possible for me.

“Mr. Lo, well done on 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 the future?” he asked.

“I am,” I replied, “if I am given the opportunity.”

The sports meet had taught me an important lesson.  I should be positive about taking up new challenges.  To accomplish my job well, I should stay focused and be observant.  Whining and complaining would not solve anything.

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