Bill Russell, Seattle SuperSonics coach, on the possibility of having women referees in the NBA: "Incompetence should not be confined to one sex."
In the old days, here is what baseball umpires used to do in the off-season: Tim Hurst refereed fights. Bob Emslie was a trapshooter. Scotty Robb ran a printing business. George Moriarty wrote songs. Al Barlick was a coal miner. Frank Dascoli was a Connecticut state trooper. Dolly Stark was the basketball coach at Dartmouth. Bill Grieve was assistant supervisor of recreation in Yonkers. Cy Rigler (who originated the upraised arm for a strike) was a policeman and a fireman. Bill Guthrie was a steam fitter. Jocko Conlan owned a flower shop. Jack Sheridan was an undertaker. The raucous journeyman infielder Germany Schafer used to lead cronies to Sheridan's mortuary and intone in a sepulchral voice through a ventilator, "Your time has come, Jack Sheridan." In a game at Detroit, when Sheridan made a bad call, Schafer turned at the plate and said it again, "Your time has come. Jack Sheridan." Sheridan threw him out of the game.
Nowadays, here is what some baseball umpires do in the off-season: Marty Springstead is a bank teller. Dave Phillips and Doug Harvey referee basketball. Bruce Froemming works in a Milwaukee brewery. Jerry Dale, who has a master's in math, teaches school. Jim Evans and Doug Harvey sell real estate. Larry McCoy is a farmer in Arkansas. Nick Colosi, formerly a ma�tre d' at the Copacabana, is a special policeman at Madison Square Garden. Dave Davidson is a probation officer. Nestor Chylak, at 54 the senior umpire in the American League, makes speeches. Dick Stello teaches at umpire's school. Stello is married to a stripper, Chesty Morgan, who boasts a 73-inch bust.
Referee Andy van Hellemond puts applesauce on virtually everything he eats at every meal.
Of the 84 men who were regular NFL officials last year, almost half spent their weekdays as businessmen or salesmen. Another eight were in insurance, but there was only one banker. Twenty-three were employed in education, as either teachers or coaches—or, in some cases, both. Six were involved in social or youth work. Three were lawyers, one was a landscape architect. There were also one pharmacist, one special-apparatus wireman, one airport director, one safety specialist and one baseball minor league general manager.
Arthur Ashe has written in his book Portrait in Motion, "Many Southern Europeans accept cheating as the natural order of things and really cannot comprehend how that philosophy either surprises or offends us. Whitney Reed once told me a story about a time in Rome when a little linesman robbed him blind, eventually costing him the match with his outrageous calls. A few months passed, and at Wimbledon a stranger came up to Whitney and gave him a warm greeting. Whitney had to admit that he didn't recognize the man, whereupon the stranger replied, 'Don't you remember me, Mr. Reed? I'm the linesman from Rome who made all those bad calls that cost you the match.' And he said it just like that, altogether sprightly and amiably."
Russell Baker wrote in
The New York Times Magazine
, "Not long ago, a New York woman I know awoke one morning and discovered her eyebrows were out. I don't mean they stepped out for a drink before breakfast. Even in New York, eyebrows aren't doing that sort of thing yet.
"What had happened was that this woman's eyebrows had been called out by an umpire of fashion just as definitively as a base runner given the thumb in a close call at home plate. In this case, the umpire was a journal called W which calls balls, strikes and failed slides in the game of high-income chic....