I Miss Danny Crawford

from 2013...

Due in large part to my recent release and respite from some familial obligations (e.g., ex-wife cutting me loose, grown offspring urging me to pursue personal and professional goals in the second half of life, and lack of a consistent employment), I find myself blissfully back in southern California – land of my birth, adolescent coming-of-age, and constant yearning. Not coincidentally, in many ways, while it signals the end of a marriage, many close friendships, and an officiating career in Wisconsin, it also fuels a time of new beginnings, renewed family ties, lifelong friendship homecomings, and second chance opportunities to grow, find, refresh, and rebuild.

Not unlike many other post-50, college-graduated, displaced baby boomers, I find myself unemployed. For many months, I have been searching diligently for an opportunity to advance, redeploy and exploit my acquired skills sets, and latch onto a new vocational challenge. Like the proverbial life ring, if there has been one constant avocational blessing in my displacement, it has been basketball officiating – 22 years in Wisconsin and now one season in southern California. I am thankful for the therapy, the thrill and the spiritual invigoration that is refereeing. The din of the crowd, the animation of the coaches, the blaring of the band, the sweat of the players, the acrobatics of the cheerleaders, the camaraderie of my crew mates – describing in words the experience and exhilaration of actually running within the competitive athletic experience is virtually indescribable. I better understand Brett Favre’s dilemma in wrestling with retirement – letting refereeing go will be agonizing. The rewards and fringe benefits which accompany the officiating journey are occasionally dumbfounding and oft-filled with revelation and proprietary sacredness.

So after an arduous (albeit temporary) day of mandatory job-seeking activity, and the unrelenting squirmish with the legendary and unavoidable LA afternoon traffic rush, where else on the Thursday night of the Lakers/Clippers game would I find myself other than at Cousin Butch’s house. To prognosticate, talk smack, imbibe, and unwind, here we are on the upstairs couch in front of the 60" awaiting Blake Griffin versus Dwight Howard, and Kobe versus Chris Paul, giving witness to the season when the lowly Clippers overtook the Lakers as LA’s powerhouse basketball brand. Boy, are we ready!

Tuning into the game on TNT (home of the Barkley/Shaq/Smith/Webber/Johnson NBA comedy road show), we discover that tonight is a double header. We’re fortunate enough to catch the last few minutes of the Heat/Thunder game from Oklahoma City, a rematch of last year’s championship. Both James and KD are on fire – Durant 42 points, LeBron 39 – but it’s a convincing Heat win by 10 on OKC’s home floor. More than the game – which ends unceremoniously for the OKC faithful – the drama and anticipation builds for the NBA’s second half, the playoffs and a possible rematch between these two franchises. Coincidentally, it’s also the start of the NBA All Star weekend and basketball fever is in the air. Curiously, what strikes me overpoweringly is the presence of referee Danny Crawford, long-time veteran NBA official, who serves as the crew chief for this nationally-televised game. With the winner long since determined by Miami’s double-digit lead and only minutes remaining, I find myself momentarily transfixed, as many of us referees do, watching fellow basketball officials of the highest caliber at the highest levels. Crawford’s presence, demeanor, and charisma on the court are riveting. The way he strides and reacts to these players he’s known all of their professional lives is a telling and revealing story within itself. At the same time, the personal interaction is enigmatic. From their first slam dunk to their final free throw, Danny’s watched, observed, chided, encouraged, joked with, bonded with, and respected each player’s growth and development over three decades.

I wonder. Danny’s known James, Wade, Durant and Westbrook ever since they stepped onto the court. He’s also known Dr. J, Magic, Kareem, Byrd, Olajuwon, Jordan, Nash, Stockton & Malone, and all the greats of our lifetime. Moreover, he’s seen and reffed and perhaps befriended countless players who’ve been in the league over the last 30 years. So, too, have Joey Crawford, Dick Bavetta, Bennett Salvatore, Eddie Rush, and a handful of other NBA refereeing legends who’ve been blessed with these dream careers. I ponder. “How many of us have contemplated or fantasized about the possibility of refereeing fulltime or at the professional level but learned along the way we were too old, too fat, too slow or too obligated elsewhere?” Over their 30-year careers, do you think Danny or Joey or Dick have had the opportunity or circumspect good fortune to develop relationships with some of these Hall of Fame legends? Have they been to their houses, met their families or bonded as colleagues or friends beyond the final horn? What about the coaches they’ve known and worked with – many of them former players and Hall of Famers themselves – Doc Rivers, Kevin McHale, Vinnie Del Negro, George Karl, Avery Johnson, Don Nelson, Jerry Sloan, Byron Scott, and on and on? Or are these role models, mentors and leaders in the officiating profession subject to the same constraints and limitations that we, as high school and collegiate officials, must adhere to – a clear, defensible separation from coaches and players, perceived conflicts of interest, alleged favoritism or inappropriate relationships? Is it unfortunate or simply “what goes with the territory” that closer relationships with those you know and work with over 20 or 30 years cannot be realized, even though you’ve interacted these guys from their first dunk to their last free throw?

While pondering the parameters of our restrictions and accompanying professional guidelines, I am entertained by game analyst and play-by-play announcers, Reggie Miller and Marv Albert – clearly legends in their own right – who’ve also been around the game for a lifetime. And as OKC and Miami fade into the night, here come game two’s announcer and analyst, Kevin Harlan (coincidentally from Milwaukee) and Coach Mike “the Czar” Fratello, doing the Lakers/Clippers (not quite Chick Hearn but reputable and long-standing none-the-less). As I muse about Danny Crawford’s longevity and accomplishments, I ponder my own. All of those famed NBA legends that refs in my age bracket have admired and respected from afar, have all been a ubiquitous part of the lives of referees Crawford, Crawford and Bavetta.

I am, at once, exceedingly grateful; I am profusely thankful that basketball officiating has provided me an introduction to legends and achievers like Mike Carey, the NFL’s first African American Super Bowl referee. Mike was the honored guest of the Midwest Minority Officials Association (MMOA) in 2009 speaking at our end-of-the-year banquet. His trip to Wisconsin gave us occasion to speak privately and candidly. His accomplishments and work ethic – combined with his exceptional physical fitness at an age defying 60 – was extraordinary. Then there was Ed Hightower, inarguably one of the most highly-regarded NCAA officials of all time, also a guest speaker for the MMOA in 2000. And, low and behold, here’s Violet Palmer, who as providence or blind coincidence would have it, is now on my television screen officiating the Lakers/Clippers game. We met Violet several years ago when she came to speak to the MMOA group while visiting Milwaukee to ref a Bucks game in 2005. And I revel. Officiating has been very, very good to me. I ruminate further – remembering when I reffed Coby Karl’s last high school game. As a senior at Homestead High School, he lost in a regional final at Waukesha South and his father, my friend coach George Karl, was in the stands alternately grimacing and chuckling at our calls. I reffed Mike Dunleavy, Jr. when he attended the University School as a freshman. Many local Milwaukee refs have had Devin Harris (Tosa East and UW Wisconsin), Steve Novak (whose father Mike was the long-time coach and AD at Brown Deer High and who’s younger son, Chris played with my son, Josh, in grade school), Caron Butler (Racine Park), Wes Matthews (Madison Memorial and Marquette) and all of the great DI and collegiate players who’ve come though the Milwaukee area over the past 20 years. So it’s been a blessing. And I wonder if Danny and Ed and Violet have also seized the time to rejoice and celebrate their own good fortune. (I think we may already know the answer to that question.)

This spontaneous reminiscing is not without some reverential reflection. A commercial pops on and there is Dr. J, new spokesperson for Royal Crown whiskey – and I recall the time I met him when he served as a judge and guest of honor at the McDonalds’ All-American game in Milwaukee in 2008. I was fortunate to be part of the 3-point shootout crew that year; and then there was the time I met Oscar Robinson when he returned to Milwaukee to promote the publication of his autobiography “The Big O: My Life, My Times, My Game ”; and the time I met Bill Walton who served as keynote speaker at the annual “In the Paint at One Two/Midnight Basketball” banquet; and the time I shook Michael Jordan’s hand backstage at the Janet Jackson concert at the old Rosemont Pavilion in Chicago and again at the grand opening of the Daniels Conference Center in Milwaukee; and the time I watched Ray Allen, all by himself save for the lone Bucks assistant, diligently drilling 3-pointer after 3-pointer for an hour after practice at the Cousins Center, the Milwaukee Bucks practice facility. None of this would have ever been possible without my having become a part of the officiating community. And as if all this impromptu happenstance ‘aligning of the stars’ wasn’t enough, I suddenly remember that tomorrow morning I am on my way to see former employer, mentor and personal inspiration, Green Bay Packer Hall of Famer, Willie Davis – to reconnect, catch up and contemplate a potential future endeavor. Mind-blown! Wowser! Yippee! Feel me?

Fittingly, the night ends – as well as my 2013 seasonal reflection – as I depart from cuz’s house in Bell and catch the last of the Clipper blowout of the Lakers listening to the local radio announcer, Brian Sieman. He ruminates regarding Kobe’s behavior and the refusal of referee Bill Spooner to “T” him up for questionable language and unsporting behavior. (Kobe eventually got the “T”.) Again I contemplate in astonishment. NBA ref Bill Spooner just happens to be the 20-plus year NBA official who spoke to my new referee group and officiating home in southern California – the San Fernando Valley Basketball Officials unit – when the season began only scant weeks ago. Is this divine providence, mere coincidence or fluke accident? So now I pause to pray with renewed enthusiasm (thinking of my longtime friend, partner and basketball colleague, Bill Gromacki in Wisconsin and his recent double-knee replacement surgery). “Please Lord, let the legs, knees, hips and heart provide me the opportunity to continue to do this until father time and sensibility notify me otherwise – not necessarily the complaints, criticisms, rantings, ravings, comments, or opinions of our beloved coaches, fans, or fellow officials.” I recall without embarrassment, but rather a profound sense of melancholy, packing up the Chevy Cobalt in Wisconsin for the cross-country drive heading home to LA along with my perpetual wingman, Cousin Butch and my son’s dog, Jada – an apt metaphor of the ‘tail between the legs’ image my departure from Wisconsin signifies (figuratively speaking, of course).

I have learned. In relationships, in career pursuits, on the roller coaster that is life’s excursion, humility is humbling! But, unconditionally, “Reffing has been very, very good to me!”

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- Billy Young, ‘13

- Copyright 2013?