We hear it all the time, whether it is in the media, from fans, or even coaches and parents yelling it at officials:  one controversial call, and that official blew the game for a team.

News flash:  that's false.

It's easy to pinpoint one call in a game that is the turning point and can decide the outcome of a contest.  But when we do that, we are no longer admiring the proverbial forest for the trees.  We delineate an entire competition down to one moment, which makes for fantastic drama, but seldom represents reality.  (In fact, maybe Hollywood could learn another lesson on how to not poison us moving forward...)

Anytime there is a close call in the later stages of a game, an official has to make a split second decision, which will usually please half of the people present and upset the other half.  It's not a situation that is enviable by most, including the official.  After all, it's not like the official could have avoided trouble if he or she had made the opposite call:  the roles would just be reversed with the upset half now happy and the happy half now upset.

But what happens when replays show us a blown call that can't be changed?  Or what happens when a coach or parent (or even player) sees it one way and the official sees it differently?  The common conclusion is that the official was clearly wrong and is the sole culprit for the outcome of the contest.  However, the truth is the exact opposite.

During the course of any sporting event, a multitude of action will occur that can alter the balance of power defined as who is "winning."  Baseball changes with each pitch.  Football changes with each play from scrimmage.  Tennis changes with each serve.  The list goes on.  Seldom does anyone realize that every single one of these actions can affect the course of a game an equal or greater amount than the call of one official at a moment that is slightly highlighted.  In short, every time a coach tells me the one call I made cost his team the game, I remind myself that the team had ample opportunities to prevent me from even having to make that call.  Although I take responsibility for the call, I'm not the reason that team lost.

Further, there's an even greater notion at stake that people fail to recall in these situations:  great teams overcome bad calls.

The teams that win are the ones that don't stop to argue about the bad calls.  The teams that win are the ones that shrug them off and overcome them to the point where the bad call didn't matter.

When a marathon runner trips during the marathon, does he or she stop to examine the spot where he or she fell?  Does the runner complain to anyone and everyone about how it is the fault of the ground for causing the runner to lose time?  No!  The runner gets up and hurries along to make up for the lost time!

The same goes for great teams and great athletes.

Have you ever had a bad day?  Have you ever had a bad day at work (or, if you're young, at school)?

If the answer is anything other than a resounding "yes," stop reading now because you do not exist.

Now, you may go to an office for your job.  If you don't go to an office, you probably go to some "place" to do a job.  (Even someone self-employed has to go somewhere, even in the house, to do their job.)  Do you know where people involved with sports go when they go to the office?

It may be described in a number of ways:  the field, the stadium, the park, etc.  It all means the same thing.  But if you're a professional athlete or official, your office is literally the playing field.

So if a star athlete has a poor performance, is it not fair to say he or she had a bad day at the office?  Does that give others the right to boo that athlete and make sure he or she knows that fans disapprove of their performance?

Let's put it another way:  if you're having a bad day at the office, how would you feel if people who didn't work at your office came into your office and just verbally abused you over the job you were doing?

If the answer is anything other than a resounding "bad," stop reading now because you do not exist.

The next time you're not happy with a player or an official at any level in any capacity, keep one thing in mind:  that person is trying very hard to do their best.  Your negative critique isn't helping and serves no purpose.

This past MLB season saw something happen that not many people noticed:

The World Umpire Association (WUA), which is union that represents MLB umps, rebranded as the Major League Baseball Umpires Association (MLBUA), and became the fifth of the "big five" professional team sports to have a major online presence through websites and social media.

MLB umpires join officials from the NBA, NFL, NHL, and MLS as becoming more transparent to the public.  Granted, the public will probably go the way of abusing this privilege (see the #RefWatchParty that occurred during the NBA Finals), but the intent to keep the conversation open and ongoing is a fantastic thing.

The union has actually been very active on Twitter (@MLBUA), showcasing good calls by umpires in an attempt to educate the general public on how they work.  Possibly the best part of this work, however, is even more highlights for the UMPS CARE charity.

Officials in these major sports take unfortunate abuse from the uneducated public.  Players, coaches, and the media have a tendency to speak and act in ways that do not represent the educated point of view of the official.  These actions speak to a psychological issue of scapegoating, leaving the officials as the common enemy among rivals.

The officials are tired of being treated as sub-humans.  These platforms will allow their voices to be heard.  The public would be smart to recognize this and know they are proud to uphold the integrity of the game and do their job.

On August 31, 2018, a feat occurred in a baseball game between the Yankees and Tigers that doesn't happen too often:  both managers were ejected.

Aaron Boone (Yankees) was ejected by Home Plate Umpire Nic Lentz for arguing balls and strikes.  Ron Gardenhire (Tigers) was ejected by First Base Umpire Paul Nauert for arguing a check swing no-call.  Both cases contained an element of absurdity that further proves that the theater of baseball disqualifications regarding managers is not only a joke to the game, but also an abhorrent way to influence others who witness it.

Boone took exception with the strike zone of Lentz to the point where he made contact with the umpire and put on a demonstration in a catcher's crouch that did nothing more than delay the game and solidify his ignorance towards the arbiters of the game.  What Boone probably didn't know is that, according to the official plot of the zone after the game by Brooks Baseball Pitch f/x tool, Lentz really only missed two pitches the entire game.

Further, Boone was clearly upset at his team's lack of offense and used the ejection as a way to "fire up" his team.  This translates to the idea of yelling vociferously at an innocent umpire to vent your frustrations over your own team's inability to hit with the hope that your players decide to change their ways somehow.

The fact of the matter is that these arguments are rarely filled with the tirade we think they are.  Usually, the manager is yelling about how bad his team is, leaving the umpire the unfortunate target of hate where the fans usually pile on him as the bad guy for tossing the manager (assuming it's the home team).  In fact, even if the manager is yelling about his displeasure with an umpire, the confrontation has the ability to make even a professional umpire begin to question his calls, resulting in more displeasure.

On the flip side, Gardenhire was ejected when Nauert ruled that Yankees hitter Luke Voit did not swing at a pitch.  It was a close pitch and a tough call to make in real time, but the replay seemed to make me think the call was incorrect:  Voit did offer at the pitch.  Gardenhire's argument resulted in ridiculous accusations that Nauert could obviously see through, but it wasn't until the argument finished that it was clear it was a joke of an argument.

As soon as Gardenhire turned around to walk back to the clubhouse, he looked right at Voit who was standing on first base (the no-call resulted in a walk) and asked him, "Did you swing?" as he walked by, followed by a smirk .

Even Gardenhire knew this was a joke.

A few days later, Boone was hit with a one-game suspension for making contact with Lentz during the confrontation.  To quote Boone:

"I was arguing, I got kicked out of the game, I reacted how I reacted.  Unfortunately, I got a little too close, and I do regret that.  I always want to be in control of my emotions, to a degree.  But sometimes you also have to state your claim and defend certain things that are important.  I definitely shouldn't have nicked his cap."

In this brief statement, we got a cop-out about responsibility for one's actions and emotions as well as evidence of misplaced priorities.  No mention of an apology...no mention that Lentz actually was doing a good job...just a lame way of getting around talking about something where Boone was at fault.

Sorry, Aaron.  Cancer is important.  Poverty is important.  Borderline pitches are not.

We've praised Janis Meredith before for her work as a parenting coach.  She recently wrote an article on a topic we have discussed many times before:  abuse of officials.  Her thesis:  how to stop it.

Meredith begins by doing the obvious and the easy:  telling people to JUST STOP.  You would think it should be that easy, but unfortunately, it's not always that simple.  She goes on to give three steps to assist with the process:

1. Sit down.  Many parents get up close and personal (or within earshot) of officials so they are sure officials can hear them.  If you want to stop it, just find a seat and relax.

2. Imagine the official is your child.  In the vein of "treat others as you would wish to be treated," take a moment to imagine how you would feel if you observed someone berating your child in the same way that you might berate an official.  Doesn't feel so good, does it?

3. Remember who is watching.  Can you imagine what would happen if someone used their phone to record your poor behavior and spread it everywhere?  You could lose your job, among other things, if your employer didn't want you associated with the company after seeing it!

If that's not enough for you, then become an official.  After a year, you'll change your tune.  Trust me.

A media piece earlier this year submitted by Today/The Today Show finally provided some statistical data we suspected all along:  we're losing a significant amount of youth sports officials at a rapid rate.

According to the National Federation of High Schools (NFHS, the governing board overseeing high school athletics), 80% of high school sports officials quit before their third year.  The most common reasons are always the verbal and physical abuse from coaches and parents.  In fact, many states are facing the crisis of having to postpone athletic events due to a lack of officials.

Fanning these flames are the threats of social media, where one call can go viral very quickly thanks to the recording capabilities on phones and other devices.  Verbal abuse doesn't just occur on the field anymore:  it's online.

The obvious solution is for people (players, coaches, parents, fans) to behave better.  High school sports are an extension of the classroom.  If you wouldn't act a certain way inside a school, don't act that way while at the field.

But another solution?  If you think you could do better as an official, there is a class waiting for you!  There are cadet courses always looking for more officials.  Why don't you sign up and show everyone your skills?

If you're of a certain age, perhaps you've seen the movie "The Matrix."  If you haven't, here is your spoiler warning...

Have you ever had a point in your life where you can't go back to things the way they used to be?  Have you ever noticed that "life will never be the same?"  That's what Thomas Anderson, a.k.a Neo (played by Keanu Reeves), experienced in "The Matrix" when he was awakened from the false reality and shown what life really was:  a barren landscape left from a war between humans and machines.

There are a lot of points in my life where I felt that way.  But when it comes to sports, I can pinpoint one moment where I experienced it:  the moment I became a baseball umpire.

Since I started officiating baseball games, life hasn't been the same.  Sure, I still root for the Yankees, but I watch umpires just as much.  It's an odd situation where my friends give me a friendly about of grief for my knowledge about umpires!

In an article in Referee Magazine back in March discussing the integrity of officials, it was pointed out that some officials don't treat other officials with respect when they're watching a game, especially if it's a game involving their kids.  For example, if I went to go see my proverbial son play a baseball game, it would be considered wrong if I berated the officials on the field when they know I'm also an official.

Officials are a special breed who are charged with upholding the integrity of competition.  Whether we're on the field or in the stands, all officials have to stand together, like a fraternity of people sharing a common bond.  We cannot complain about fans one day and then be those complaining fans the next.

That's how officials experience the Thomas Anderson effect.  Life is never the same once you step on that field!

The snow in New Jersey throughout March kept me from most of my baseball scrimmages, leaving me all of two games (only one behind the plate) to be ready for the regular season.  However, one play during my final game proved a very important point.

With a runner on first base, the pitcher, while in the stretch, did not come to a complete stop.  My partner correctly ruled it a balk as the pitch was delivered.  The batter, however, swung and lined a base hit through the left side of the infield.  Immediately, I came out from behind the plate and yelled, "TIME!  DEAD BALL!"  The first base coach, however, was already disagreeing with me.  "You have to play that out!  A balk is not a dead ball!"

"Yes it is, coach," I said.  "In NFHS (high school) baseball, a balk is an immediate dead ball."

He immediately dropped his argument, which was amazing, in my opinion.  But my partner took the time to explain it to him.  The runner from first base was advanced to second, and the batter resumed his at-bat.

The conflict that arose is that, in OBR (official baseball rules, which is what MLB uses, as do many other forms of baseball), a balk is a delayed dead ball.  That is, you wait for the play to be over before deciding to enforce the balk.  In the case above, we would have let the play go, then given the offense the option of taking the balk penalty or the result of the play.  However, high school rules do not allow this:  they clearly state that the ball is dead immediately and the balk is enforced.  It's an odd shame when something good happens, though...what if the batter hit a home run?  You guessed it:  I become the bad guy and have to nullify the home run to award the balk penalty.

Sometimes these rules don't make sense.  But it's not my job, as the umpire, to debate the rules.  I just have to enforce them.  Further, the coaches should probably take the time to understand these rules as well.  When offered a high school coaching job, it's not as simple as just teaching the game and leading the team.  You have to understand that there are MAJOR DIFFERENCES between high school sports and other levels of those same sports.

As much as officials do their homework to know these odd rules, coaches need to do the same.  After all, high school athletics are an extension of the classroom.  They are another opportunity to educate student athletes on valuable life lessons.  We, as coaches and officials, owe it to the kids to get it right.

Referee Magazine recently published an article about what the best officials keep doing.  The article made a point to define what the author meant by this, but it essentially came down to the fact that the best officials never stop getting better, nor do they become complacent with "arriving" at the top of their game.

It's something of a natural reaction for us to take a step back and a deep breath when we finally reach the pinnacle of our journey.  When the end of the school year arrives, we usually don't spend the next day doing homework!  And in theory, not only is there really nothing wrong with this, it can be significantly healthy for us to take a step back and relax.

But like everything else in life, when we stop using a skill, a muscle, or a part of our brain for a significant period of time, we can forget how to use it.  It's similar to how we might forget how to get somewhere if we haven't been there in a while.  And officials can't let themselves do that.

The real point, though, is not so much about reaching the end of the physical year, but rather the top of the profession.  When the baseball season ends, umpires don't look for another opportunity to strap on the gear and work the plate.  They cherish the time they have at home, relaxing, spending time with their families, etc.  But the good officials realize that even if they're the oldest, longest tenured officials with the most important assignments, they have to maintain that level and continue to get better, rather than "throw their weight around."

The job of the official is to start out perfect, then get better from there.  Think about that for a second...that sounds like something Yogi Berra would say!  But it's true.  No matter your profession, remember that complacency at the top opens up an avenue for someone beneath you to usurp your glory.

There's an old saying in officiating:  "Remember, they're not your friends."

However, an article published last year in Referee magazine provoked some thought on the relationships officials have with players and coaches.

There's a certain mindset that sometimes goes into the relationship between officials and others in the arena of competition.  Usually, it is akin to a level of animosity that broods a contemptible relationship, almost as if to shift attention from the relationship between two competing entities to a competitive nature between one of those entities and the officials on the contest.  In other words, a team of 9 baseball players aren't competing with another 9 players in a different uniform, but rather the guys on the field in black/blue who are calling ball/strike, fair/foul, and safe/out.

In order for that type of a harsh relationship to maintain any sort of sustainability, it must be fed by all the necessary parties creating it.  Therefore, if one party stops feeding it, it will cease to exist (or at least falter to the point of eventually not working as well).

Case in point:  if an official makes a conscious effort to be more respectful and have a normal professional relationship with others, the chances of things going well increase.  Obviously, it's not a fool-proof solution; there will always be situations where idiots make the game difficult.  But tipping the scales in your favor can never hurt.

It's as easy as greeting people with a smile and a firm handshake.  Rather than being defensive off the bat, understand that knowing how to talk to people and choosing the proper attitude has the power to reform the tone of a conversation and a relationship.  Respecting people and eliminating "attitude" eliminates the potential for conflict.  Even if there is a questionable call (or a blown call), choosing the proper words and approach can be the difference between the issue being dropped immediately and the coach being on you until you reach the parking lot.

By contrast, officials who walk on the field with clout and a bloated ego leading the way can immediately cause coaches and players to question their authority, especially in a day and age where our youth have the potential to be more belligerent and less respectful of others.  An official who thinks that "this is my field and I'm just letting these kids play on it" is bound to have trouble find him/her, whereas an official who is ready to provide a quality service of officiating a game and making sure that they do everything they can to provide the best possible experience for the kids involved is more likely to walk off the field with the respect of the coaches, players, and fans.

In fact, when officials do the latter, watch what happens when those officials return to the field to see one or both of those teams again.  Coaches may suddenly feel at ease knowing the game is in good hands with you at the helm!