Top 5: Things NOT to Say to an IM Official

If working for Northeastern Intramural Sports has taught me anything it has taught me how to take a whole lot of abuse from peers. As a result of that abuse I have come to look at the role of a referee in a new light as well as speculate as to how smart students who attend NU really are. What follows are 5 things you should never say to an IM official unless you are A) looking to make yourself look like an idiot or B) looking to get yourself banned from IM Sports and the Marino Center.


5. He hit me first!

Unfortunately I did not see him hit you first, if I had he would also have a penalty. And no I am not going to take your word for it, if I did that I would be calling a "penalty" on someone every 30 seconds. Besides that, did your mother never teach you about turning the other cheek and being the better person? Or maybe you learned about proportional responses? Sort of along the lines of being pushed to the ground and then turning around and slugging the guy in the face, I think that was not a proportional response on your part.

On top of that I have one set of eyes and unfortunately they both have to look in the same direction at all times. So yes I miss calls occasionally, it happens, get over it, losing a IM dodgeball game should not be up there with the murder of a family member.


4. Have you played Hockey before?

I love answering this question because in fact as a Hockey ref I have played hockey once or twice in my life (wowzers!), to be specific I have been skating since I was 2 and been playing Hockey since I was 4, so what's your next question Mr. Lipton? Do I know how to blow a whistle? Do I know how to lace up my skates properly? Do I sleep at night? Am I blind? I have a question for you: can you read? In particular the part of the rules where it says this is a "non-contact league". I don't care how hockey is played in the NHL because believe it or not this isn't the NHL and you aren't Sidney Fucking Crosby so stop whining like him and serve your two fucking minutes.

3. Shut the #%&@ Up! (and all manner of swearing thrown in my direction)

This one puzzles me; why would someone think it is all right to verbally abuse the person who controls their playing eligibility? It's liking bitching to a cop for a speeding ticket, what do you want a busted tailight and reckless driving tacked on? I can throw you out of this game for looking at me the wrong way (sadly I haven't found a pair of IM eyes I couldn't stare down) and no one from my boss to the President of the University would fault me for it. But yet you think it's ok to tell me to go fuck myself and how to do it? Do I look like the dumbest guy in the world to you? On second thought don't answer that question, just be quiet.

2. What's your name?

What are you going to do with my name? Complain to my boss about me? He likes me and he doesn't like you. More importantly he doesn't like people questioning the calls of his officials. So what on God's green earth do you think he is going to say to you, do you think he is going to fire me because my interpretation of a hooking penalty is a bit different then yours? I think not.

1. You want to fight outside after this is over?
This isn't as much of something not to say to a referee as much as it is a fear I have. I am waiting for the day when I'm walking down the street, ordering a beer at a bar, or grabbing a box of Cheeze-Its from the shelf at Shaws and suddenly someone blindsides me with their fist. And all that because they couldn't understand why I threw them out of a game for jumping over the boards and playing the role of Killer from Slapshot. It's going to happen, maybe not tomorrow and maybe not next year, but someday it is going to happen.


Just keep the audible noises from your throat to a minimum and behave like the decent human being your mother and father brought you up to be. That's all we ask.

A Brief (but Lethal) History of Broomball

Broomball is a very large part of my life, not necessarily a part of my life that I particularly care about, but a large part all the same. I decided that you the readers should know a little more about what I spend most of my weeknights doing.

Pertaining to the NU version, Broomball is an absurd game that places many ill-footed individuals on a slippery surface, only to have them run willy nilly, this way or that way. The result is many a bruised body and ego.

Though all in all the results are never much worse than something that can be treated with a band aid or an ice pack. Never are they fatal.

But that has not always been the case, back in the days of yore when the game was known as Knattleikr to Icelanders, it was not uncommon for a Viking or two to die during game play. These ancient Broomball matches were usually played between whole villages and were known to last for up to 14 days.. Writer Hord Grimkellson once witnessed a game between Strand and Botn in which "before dusk, six of the Strand players lay dead, though none on the Botn side."

Now that is a version of Broomball I would be happy to officiate.

It's Easy (but probably not probable) Being Green: The Invasion of Canada

Here is our ongoing segment known as It's Easy (but probably not probable) Being Green. Which is ripped from a Kermit the Frog song. Again I am not the green energy consulted that also goes by the name Kevin Doyle, I'm just the guy who gets his emails.

Mr. President

In light of the negative scientific response to last weeks report on nuclear powered automobiles and the fact that even one accident renders the cost-benefit of the program useless we have regretfully chosen to abandon the project, for now. In it's stead we present you with a new solution to our dependence on foreign oil; Invade Canada!

You see sir, Canada is, in the word's of Prime Minister Harper, "an Energy Superpower". First off Canada isn't a superpower in anything except Hockey and that's because we let them. If we wanted to we could be, but we take pity on them.

Second they have vast reserves of Oil and Natural Gas that we want and they won't give us for free. So like any good older brother we need to kick the shit out of them and then take their oil and gas. Trust me they will thank us later.

Now we know you have military advisers to do all the planning of an invasion, and we are sure you have a contingency plan dating back to the early 1800's, but we have some thoughts of our own.

Plan #1
You wait until the Gold Medal Hockey game at the 2010 Olympics, and when they win (because again we let them win) you send in the marines. Because of the rioting and drunkenness that will undoubtedly be expressed by the common Canadian they will simply think the American Forces are riot police, and when they wake up the next day with a splitting headache they will be the 51st - 63rd states in the Union. We can even have a new flag made up to include their stars.

Plan #2
The Québécois having been gaining ground in the polls over the last year as well as have been pushing for the independence of Quebec much more so as of late. What we propose is that you secretly finance the Québécois in a guerrilla war against Ottawa. The result would be all out Civil War within Canada at which point the US enters Canada under the auspices of a "Peacekeeping Mission", a defacto invasion. Hey, it worked for Russia.

Plan #3
Or you simply just invade shock and awe style. It's just basic math, they have 90,251 armed service men and women, we have roughly 3 million. That is approximately 33 US soldiers for every 1 Canadian. Besides some Canadian citizens would naturally surrender because of their French heritage.

What ever the means, the end result is the elimination of our energy problems, as well as the continuance of the American Revolution against the British Crown.


Sincerely

The Underling, Staff, and the American People

Being the Boss Man

I have a confession to make; I like being the boss, I really do.

I know this blog is supposed to be about how I serve the man and do not have a sliver of autonomy anywhere in my working life, well that was true, then I got promoted.

Though I got promoted in the fall last night it all came to a head. Part of my promotion is that I am the “New Hires Coordinator” which means any problem that the 15-20 new kids we hired have, it is my responsibility to deal with it. Translation: Kevin has this weird mentor, boss type image in the eyes of these impressionable young men and women.

As interesting as that new position is it is not nearly as fun as being told by my boss that I am “too hands on” as a hockey/broomball supervisor. Translation: Kevin is doing a lot of delegating from the bench this semester. This of course went flawlessly last night. Everyone I told to do something, did it and with smiles on their faces. Though that may have been because of the four new people they all got to show up and make fun of, but we’ll see how it goes this evening.

This whole “Boss” thing is still quite new to me, and something I will keep you updated on as it progresses.

From The Archives: A Letter to Gary Bettman from the Canadian People

So you know how something like an hour ago I posted a poem about hockey and the lock out? And how I said if I found any more poems about hockey I would send them your way? Well yes, I found one, one in which I am Ghost writing as the Canadian people (I always wanted to be the Canadian) who are putting the hurt to Mr. Gary Bettman (nice guy). Sadly since I posted this if Gary Bettman is ever found entombed in a sheet of ice I may be suspected of having the keys to the Zamboni. Here you are poetry piece #2!

Letter to Gary Bettman from the Canadian People

Your most honorable fool: We the Canadian people
would like to know what it is you want
with our great game we call hockey.
At first you took our teams
from Quebec and Winnipeg,
but now you have taken your purge one step further.
You have destroyed our game.
Not by taking our game from every Canadian city,
but by taking it from all of North America.
You have forced our players to all corners of the globe.
Yet you laugh, you smile, like the fool you are.
You make your claims, you make your assertions,
but you know nothing of our game.
You are a businessman, not a hockey player,
and even at that you are not good.
We wish you no ill,
We are of course a peaceful people
But as for your job
we care not to let you have it.
So pack up your things,
turn in your keys,
because if it were not for you,
we would have some hockey.

Going to be found in poetry classes for years to come.

From The Archives: Hockey Has Gone Away

I was going through things I wrote while taking a class called Writing for Publication taught by one of my favorite teachers Dr. Konaxis (she has since been let go from her post because of certain sexual advances and relationships she had with former students, I was not one of them). Anyway as I was going through these pieces (of which many will be undoubtedly posted here) I found this little tidbit I wrote during the NHL lockout a few years ago. I am awful at poetry, a subject that has always and will continue to perplex me, so do forgive me for the quality and instead pay attention to the raw emotion that resonates within the piece, the hatred, the sadness, the longing and of course like and badly written poem, the bullshit. Here you are the poem that Gary Bettman has suppressed for years: Hockey Has Gone Away.

Oh, hockey, where did you go?
Why are you on the lamb?
Oh, hockey, how I love you so!

Was it because your popularity is low?
Or was it Gary Bettman?
Oh, hockey, where did you go?

I have not once seen Jumbo Joe,
Barreling down the ice like a big old Ram.
Oh, hockey, how I love you so!

All the players and the owners say “No!”
For the truly do not give a damn.
Oh, hockey, where did you go?

I have not once heard “Go Bruins, Go!”
But a fan still I am.
Oh, hockey, how I love you so!

I just want the NHL to know
That I do give a damn!
Oh, hockey, where did you go?
Oh, hockey, how I love you so!


Not to bad eh? I must have been truly depressed if the lockout moved me to start writing poetry....... I date myself with the Jumbo Joe reference me thinks, the beta version of what was to become Milan Lucic. Regardless if I come across anymore hockey inspired poetry, I promise to post it here, for you the reader! Until then you shall have to make do with this timeless piece.

Oh and I attached a picture of Bobby Orr for no other reason than that he is the best defenseman who ever played the game.