A good friend of Bahamas Rugby, John Devonport, sent me this. I thought it was worth posting.


Source: Dana Salviulo in Rugby Magazine



Turns out, reffing is really hard.


I had been tossing around the idea of reffing for several years. Proof of my intent is the fact that I took the ref test three years ago, but never turned it in. I wasn’t ready; I still wanted to play.


After three more years of playing, I knew more about the game; enough, I thought, to ref. After all, I coach kids in the summer, I coach a little D2, I play D1 and even went to Nationals last year. Basically, you could stick me at flanker, #8 or second row, and I "Get It".


I know how to play. I could contribute to the game and have a positive impact just by being on the field.


On March 26, 2006, I found myself once again on the field making an impact. But, with the whistle in my hand, I would hardly describe my impact as positive.


Kickoff


About three minutes before I blew the whistle for kickoff, I forgot everything I ever knew about rugby. Everything. Gone. Honest. I am not kidding.


For weeks I had been thinking about the kickoff. What would happen? I knew how to manage it all.


The ball goes into Touch. Choices: Re-do, scrum center or line out at center.


The ball goes In Goal, Touch in–goal or over dead ball line: Choices: Re-do or scrum.


I would look for the knock…and even try to play advantage on it. I thought I knew every scenario cold.


So what happened at kickoff? Did I do it right?


I think Coast Guard caught the ball cleanly and started moving upfield. Gee, I wasn’t prepared to manage that!


I don’t really remember the first few minutes of the game. I do remember a player on the sideline asking for a time check (probably wanting to sync their time with mine). After looking at my watch, I panicked! I realized that my second watch (the one I was wearing just in case the first one failed) still read zero. I forgot to start it!


Here’s the best part. The first watch did essentially fail. Well, I failed.

Follow up:

Checklists


The week before the game I reminded myself to: Record Kickoff Time. I had it on checklists, and final checklists, and the index card I carried to review just prior to the game. My gosh, even my checklist’s checklist was reminding me to Record Kickoff Time.


We were now ……. I dunno….. maybe five minutes into the game and I had no accurate account of the time.


I was tripped or got pushed (accidentally), my knee hurt and I was wondering why I hadn’t heard a whistle yet. Seems like a long time without a whistle.


Oh my god! I have the whistle!! That’s why I haven’t heard it!


I should blow it; but for what? I dunno;


I gotta set my watch first!


I was a deer in the headlights!


Bad Calls


Then there were the bad calls; I made a lot of those and I stuck to them.


Even when my brain caught up with my mouth, I stuck with them; though I knew I was wrong.


Poor Western Connecticut was very good about it. They politely questioned but never argued my bad calls.


I gave Coast Guard a try I should not have. I sorta assumed that if they were in goal it was a try. Only later did I realize I didn’t actually see the touch down. Coast Guard confirmed my worst fear when they were surprised at having to kick a conversion.


If I had known how hard reffing a game was going to be, I would have worn ruby slippers. Then I could just click my heels together and disappear.


My approximate 40 minutes went by quickly … for me; probably not so quickly for the players. I too have played good rugby for bad refs. It’s painful for everyone.


Halftime


Where is Nick Priscott, my referee evaluator? I need Nick!! I had been looking for him in the stands and when I couldn’t find him, I remember thinking, "I must have been so bad he left."


He was behind me on the field and whistled softly.


I knew I had messed up, but he was there to help. I said "Nick ... I am not seeing stuff. And when I do see it my brain doesn’t process what my eyes see. Play has moved on and it’s too late to call what I saw."


Honestly, if Nick had offered to take over the game for the second half and let me shadow, I would have jumped at it. I owed Western Connecticut a better second half and didn’t think I could give it to them. He didn’t offer any such save, and I am way too stubborn to ask for help.


Nick knew he was dealing with a stunned deer and focused me. He kept it simple, and it helped. Communicate more, signals, concentrate on the breakdowns, lineouts were ok, stand on the 50 for kickoffs. There was probably more…but that’s all I got.


Second Half


Going out for the second half was harder than the first. No one wanted a bad ref to be out there, not even me.


As a player, it never before occurred to me to pity a bad ref. It never occurred to me that bad reffing could be due to inexperience. I am very thankful to the Western Connecticut Women for recognizing my inexperience, making allowances, and even thanking me at the end of the game.


It still wasn’t pretty, but things did get better after the break. I tried hard to give WCSU a better second half and was even guilty of making up calls to compensate for my earlier mistakes. As Nick pointed out, my mistakes had no material effect on the game, but I should not have missed those calls.


I always talk as a player and tried to use my voice more. I looked at binds in the scrums. I reset two because of no tunnel and being on top of a mark. Now, a day later, I don’t think I kept the scrums half a meter back.


One scrum ball came out the same side it went in, and I didn’t know how to manage it. I swear a prop’s foot touched it, but the players said it was untouched. I played on. My brain couldn’t figure out what I should have done.


I did count numbers at a lineout and found Coast Guard to be over. WCSU liked that as I gave them the free kick. A couple players clapped and I heard some thank you’s (they were … "it’s about time" thank you’s…) and Coast Guard matched their numbers from then on.


All thirty players had numbers on their jerseys but I didn’t see a single number in 80 minutes of play. I just didn’t see.


I was always on the wrong side of the scrum….and just wanted to cry.


I felt like my cat, who is always on the wrong side of the door. If he is in, he cries to go out. If he is out, he cries to come in.


Signals


I bet Nick has no idea that I know the signals for free kick, penalty kick, scrum, knock-on, try and advantage.


I played a lot of advantage … frequently to the wrong team and forgot to signal it.


Even my kids know the signals because I practice with them. We do it like follow the leader or Simon Says. "Simon says scrum" and they do the signal!


We don’t have time out in my house; we have sin bin.


The Third Half


I didn’t cry after the game (unusual for me, I’m a crier) because there was nothing to cry about. I really did try; I wanted to give them a good game and had high hopes I would. But no amount of rote memorization teaches you how to apply rules.


After inflicting such personal pain, I like to soothe it with something. For years it was super size Reese’s Pieces with five scoops of forbidden chocolate ice cream. But those are things I no longer eat.


Instead I went shopping and eight pairs of shoes later, woohoo, somebody blow that whistle to stop me! That credit card fits much more comfortably in my hand than the whistle does!


I love my eight pairs of shoes and they weren’t all for me. I bought cleats and new sneakers times three (me and my two kids), and both girls got new sandals. Not so bad!



I was disappointed with my first game, but I’ll be out there again; and next time I’ll do better.