Finally, a Call That Went in the Officials’ Way

On the football field, they command ultimate respect.

They are the living embodiment of those E.F. Hutton commercials. They blow their whistles and all activity comes to a halt. The quarterback uncocks his arm, a defensive lineman slams on the brakes, a coach pulls off his headphones, a cheerleader lowers her pompons and a fan raises his crumpled program in anger.

The official has spoken.

It is, therefore, ironic that some of those same officials gnashed their teeth for years in frustration over what they perceived as their inability to be heard at all where it mattered most to them--with their superiors.

The Southern Section hierarchy rules over its officials on everything from salaries to scheduling, and the general feeling for years from the guys in the striped shirts was that it was the kind of relationship Ferdinand Marcos enjoyed with his subjects.

“For 54 years, we were never allowed to speak for more than 10 minutes once every three years,” says Dave Hull, a leading spokesman for the Southern California Football Officials Assn., referring to his organization’s relationship with its superiors.

The officials’ anger grew until finally they blew their whistles and threatened a different kind of penalty for unsportsmanlike conduct--a boycott of this fall’s games.

When a settlement was finally reached earlier this week, the gains the officials made seemed modest enough. They include: two separate units in most cases to work junior varsity and varsity games, a departure from the past; a full rather than a reduced fee for the second game when an official has to work both; the addition of a fifth official for playoff games, and a pledge by new Southern Section Commissioner Stan Thomas to meet yearly with the officials.

In return, the officials agreed to accept an earlier Southern Section ruling that a raise for officials this year would consist of only a dollar a game. That means they will receive anywhere from $34 to $38 per game depending on the league and their own position. A referee receives a few dollars more than the other members of his unit.

“No officials are in it for the money,” says Dennis Angel, San Fernando Valley Football Officials Assn. president. “We want to work and have some fun in a sport we enjoy. Many of the officials are former players.”

Their job usually ends up costing them money. They have to buy their own uniforms, pay their own travel expenses if their assignment is less than 50 miles away and must devote nearly 20 hours to classes and clinics.

“The important thing,” Hull says, “is that the new commissioner told us we will be allowed to speak in front of him for as long as necessary every year. If you don’t have a forum, nothing can be discussed. Neither our problems nor his. This is monumental, historic. We had become a necessary evil, but not to this man. He’s a delight to work with.”

While Hull makes it sound like an accomplishment somewhat akin to Richard Nixon establishing relations with China, Thomas, the man given all the credit for the breakthrough, sees it as just a common sense move.

“I wasn’t here before,” says Thomas, who took office in July, “but I know these guys are important. We are going to pay them what we can, spend as much time with them as they want and need, and treat them as people who really count. I’m not trying to be maudlin, but these people are an important part of our organization.”

Thomas ought to know. He used to spend a lot of time talking to officials, although not always in the same calm tones he know uses. The 55-year-old commissioner began as a high school football coach in Norwalk and La Mirada before working his way up the administrative channels.

He knows how difficult it is to get those guys to change a call. But he also knows the easiest way to anger them is to show them up. So to get them to change their biggest call, the call for a boycott, he treated them like men, gave them a little respect.

Simple, but nobody else thought of it.

If the name Dave Hull sounds familiar, it’s probably because you’ve heard him over the past few decades during which he was one of L.A.’s most famous disc jockeys, “The Hullabalooer.” But he makes the biggest hullabaloo over this matter of respect.

“I really believe we are the last of the officials who are truly respected,” he says. “When was the last time you heard somebody say, ‘Kill the ref?’ Coaches and players say, ‘Yes sir,’ and, ‘No sir,’ to us and mean it. The only thing we’ve got is our honesty. That’s what you get for your money. The only thing we have to sell is our honesty.”

The price, it turns out, is pretty reasonable. Just a dollar more a game, along with one large chunk of respect.