BEHIND THE MIKE

As the world’s oldest and slowest ball boy, I get to roam the sidelines at St. Cloud High School in Florida each fall. My son Cory is one of the coaches for the Bulldogs and I get to spend three nights a week with him and his freshmen, JV and varsity teams.

For most teams, ball boy duties fall to the “broken players,” as coaches define them. They have a broken wing or a busted brain (which means they have not attained the grades to play).

The majority of these kids are semi-brain dead. They have headset stuffed in their ears listening to “rap” music… or they are sweet talking their girlfriend, neither of which is a problem for yours truly. I hate rap music and I am scared to death of my wife.

Having done this for more years than I can recall, I find that the biggest problem I have on the sidelines is not with the referees. I know most of them and they are older and even crabbier than I am… so we give each other a lot of space.

No, the problem is usually at away games. When you play on the road, the visiting team has to put up with the chain crew. Most crews are pretty good folks who just do their jobs. Occasionally, you will bump into an obnoxious crew member.

I recall we played in Orlando some years back and they pulled some drunks from the stands to run the chains. What a disaster! They were already drunk when they came on the field and decided they could continue drinking in the line of duty. By halftime, the refs demanded they leave. I ended up pulling some guys who could actually stand up out of the St. Cloud crowd to run the chains.

Every so often you get a play-by-play chain crew member who wants to prove he knows more about the game than everyone else. He gives you a rundown on every play. Unfortunately for me, I have to move in the shadow of the sideline referee, who spots the ball on every down… so I can’t get away from this moron.

Some of these guys decide they want to move from the objective role of “play-by-play” announcer to the subjective role of “color commentator,” getting in as many jabs as possible so that the kids on our sideline can hear their nonsense.

Never known to shirk of a good verbal battle, I will put up with his nonsense as long as he is just bugging me. When the trash talk is aimed at the players, I figure that is crossing the line. If he does not pipe down I have a friendly talk with the “white hat” (the head referee) to mute the garbage talk.

Trash talk on the field of play is nothing new to sports at any level, be it player on player or team to team. The refs let most of it go with a warning or two. If the players persist personal foul penalties follow and the ultimate heave-ho will be their final act.

Being ball boy has its share of risk. Yours truly has been decked several times on the sidelines. I ended up with three broken ribs on one occasion and a knot on the noggin from a wayward throw from a referee, of all people.

I have found that the safest place to stand is on the offensive side of the ball. Hopefully it is always going to be heading downfield. The problem with that is with interceptions and kick runbacks. You have to know where the ball is at all times.

Truth is… I’m an old man who will be 100 sooner than you might think. I just want to stay in one piece as long as possible.

Michael Aun, CSP, CPAE Speaker Hall of Fame, is syndicated in over 1500 publications in 41 countries.