Jimcs50
11-29-2005, 09:13 AM
Nov. 28, 2005, 11:58PM
NBA referee is whistling a different tune
By FRAN BLINEBURY
Copyright 2005 Houston Chronicle
Joe Crawford is a classic Philly guy. Which means he doesn't suffer fools.
So you can imagine how he suffered on that February night a few years back in Salt Lake City when he tossed then-Rocket Steve Francis out of a game against the Utah Jazz in the second quarter.
"I thought I saw him hit (John) Stockton in the face with an elbow and, bang, I hit him with a technical," said the veteran NBA official. "The problem was that Stevie had already gotten one earlier, and that meant he was gone.
"I felt bad. The kid was so on that night. He was making every shot. It looked like he was going to break Wilt's 100-point record for a game. Then after the game I looked at the tape, and I felt even worse. I was sick to my stomach. He never touched him. It was the worst ejection of my life."
After all of the years, all of the trips up and down the hardwood courts and all of the whistles, there are bound to have been calls that were blown. Nobody
knows that better than the 54-year-old Crawford, who officiated his 2,000th NBA game on Nov. 11 in his hometown and became only the fifth referee in league history to reach that milestone.
He is profane and sarcastic, combative and comical and, according to most expert observers, the best referee in the game today.
It has been an amazing ride for the kid who was cut from his high school team but grew up as a self-described "basketball degenerate." Yet he has followed a path that almost seemed predestined. Officiating is in the blood.
Sibling insight
His father, Henry "Shag" Crawford, was one of the elite umpires in Major League Baseball for 19 seasons and frequently took a young Joe to the ballpark to meet the likes of Willie Mays and Hank Aaron. His brother, Jerry, has umped in the big leagues since 1976, calling five World Series and 11 League Championship Series. He was the crew chief during Game 2 of this year's ALCS when A.J. Pierzynski struck out in the bottom of the ninth against the Los Angeles Angels, but the ball was (maybe) dropped, and the Chicago White Sox started their run to the title.
"Yeah, I talked to my brother about that call," Joe Crawford said. "I asked him if that play was kinda like a guy flopping in our league. It's close. You've got to make a call. He told me that was a pretty good comparison.
"Hey, that's the way we are in our family. We sit around and watch games together on TV and while everyone else out there is looking at the players, we're watching the officials."
His dad took him to NBA games, and he studied the likes of Mendy Rudolph. He spent his teenage years at Philadelphia's Palestra learning the moves and the positioning of Steve Honzo and Lou Borden. He called youth league games, married his wife, Mary, at 21 and worked for the U.S. Postal Service during the days and refereed at night, sometimes getting $40 to call an old Eastern League game.
'Totally petrified'
Crawford reached the NBA in 1977 and worked his first game as part of a two-man crew with veteran Jack Madden.
"I was 25 years old, totally petrified and totally (expletive) stupid," he said. "Jack just kept telling me, 'Don't worry, you'll get through it. I'll get you there.'
"That's the way it was in those days. There was no manual like there is today. There was no program for officials. We had none of the constant video review of today. You just went out there with with guys like Madden and Earl Strom and Joe Gushue and Jake O'Donnell. You followed their lead, tried to make them happy."
Anger management
Crawford thrived but also developed an early reputation for having a hair-trigger temper, handing out technical fouls and ejections freely.
"I always wanted guys to respect me, but not fear me because I'd ruin the game," he said. "Finally I went to Joe Gushue, who was always my mentor, and I asked him what was wrong.
"He was always such a great guy, a wonderful, nice man. But he came straight at me like a sledgehammer and said, 'Joe, you're what's wrong. You have the problem.' It was a real wake-up call."
Crawford took anger management classes and his stock in the league rose rapidly. He has worked 252 playoff games and 36 NBA Finals games. His first Finals appearance was in Houston during the Rockets-Celtics series of 1986. In the last 17 years, there have only been two Game 7s in the NBA Finals — Rockets-Knicks in 1994 and Spurs-Pistons in 2005 — and he has worked both.
"When I first came into the league, Jake O'Donnell pulled me aside and said, 'If you're ever lucky enough to get a Game 7 in the Finals, savor it, because it's something very, very special.' Those words were in my ears that night in Houston when I walked out onto the court. It will always be a highlight of my career."
It's a career that has changed dramatically during his 29 seasons in the league, becoming less intuitive and much more professional. League observers view every game live and file a report. The referees get DVDs of the games and review and grade every call.
"We love instant replay, believe it or not," Crawford said. "Because the most important thing is to get it right. We don't want to decide the games or leave doubt.
"It was definitely easier back in the old days. But there wasn't a finality to it. I would walk into the locker room after a game and ask Earl Strom, 'What did you think about that goaltend call?' He'd say it was a good call or not. But who really knew?
"Now, I can watch the video and say, wow, I got it right. We're not winging it anymore. It's a craft."
Love that Barkley
Charles Barkley is his all-time favorite personality, and he loved swapping baseball stories with Larry Bird.
Crawford would like one myth laid to rest.
"There are no superstar calls," he said. "We don't root for certain teams. We don't cheat. But sometimes we just miss calls."
And when that happens?
"The next time I got the Rockets after that game in Utah, I walked right up to Stevie Francis and said, 'That was the worst ejection of my life.'
"He just smiled at me and said, 'Thanks, Joe. I needed to hear that.' "
__________________________________________________ _______________
Joey has always been one of my favorite refs.
NBA referee is whistling a different tune
By FRAN BLINEBURY
Copyright 2005 Houston Chronicle
Joe Crawford is a classic Philly guy. Which means he doesn't suffer fools.
So you can imagine how he suffered on that February night a few years back in Salt Lake City when he tossed then-Rocket Steve Francis out of a game against the Utah Jazz in the second quarter.
"I thought I saw him hit (John) Stockton in the face with an elbow and, bang, I hit him with a technical," said the veteran NBA official. "The problem was that Stevie had already gotten one earlier, and that meant he was gone.
"I felt bad. The kid was so on that night. He was making every shot. It looked like he was going to break Wilt's 100-point record for a game. Then after the game I looked at the tape, and I felt even worse. I was sick to my stomach. He never touched him. It was the worst ejection of my life."
After all of the years, all of the trips up and down the hardwood courts and all of the whistles, there are bound to have been calls that were blown. Nobody
knows that better than the 54-year-old Crawford, who officiated his 2,000th NBA game on Nov. 11 in his hometown and became only the fifth referee in league history to reach that milestone.
He is profane and sarcastic, combative and comical and, according to most expert observers, the best referee in the game today.
It has been an amazing ride for the kid who was cut from his high school team but grew up as a self-described "basketball degenerate." Yet he has followed a path that almost seemed predestined. Officiating is in the blood.
Sibling insight
His father, Henry "Shag" Crawford, was one of the elite umpires in Major League Baseball for 19 seasons and frequently took a young Joe to the ballpark to meet the likes of Willie Mays and Hank Aaron. His brother, Jerry, has umped in the big leagues since 1976, calling five World Series and 11 League Championship Series. He was the crew chief during Game 2 of this year's ALCS when A.J. Pierzynski struck out in the bottom of the ninth against the Los Angeles Angels, but the ball was (maybe) dropped, and the Chicago White Sox started their run to the title.
"Yeah, I talked to my brother about that call," Joe Crawford said. "I asked him if that play was kinda like a guy flopping in our league. It's close. You've got to make a call. He told me that was a pretty good comparison.
"Hey, that's the way we are in our family. We sit around and watch games together on TV and while everyone else out there is looking at the players, we're watching the officials."
His dad took him to NBA games, and he studied the likes of Mendy Rudolph. He spent his teenage years at Philadelphia's Palestra learning the moves and the positioning of Steve Honzo and Lou Borden. He called youth league games, married his wife, Mary, at 21 and worked for the U.S. Postal Service during the days and refereed at night, sometimes getting $40 to call an old Eastern League game.
'Totally petrified'
Crawford reached the NBA in 1977 and worked his first game as part of a two-man crew with veteran Jack Madden.
"I was 25 years old, totally petrified and totally (expletive) stupid," he said. "Jack just kept telling me, 'Don't worry, you'll get through it. I'll get you there.'
"That's the way it was in those days. There was no manual like there is today. There was no program for officials. We had none of the constant video review of today. You just went out there with with guys like Madden and Earl Strom and Joe Gushue and Jake O'Donnell. You followed their lead, tried to make them happy."
Anger management
Crawford thrived but also developed an early reputation for having a hair-trigger temper, handing out technical fouls and ejections freely.
"I always wanted guys to respect me, but not fear me because I'd ruin the game," he said. "Finally I went to Joe Gushue, who was always my mentor, and I asked him what was wrong.
"He was always such a great guy, a wonderful, nice man. But he came straight at me like a sledgehammer and said, 'Joe, you're what's wrong. You have the problem.' It was a real wake-up call."
Crawford took anger management classes and his stock in the league rose rapidly. He has worked 252 playoff games and 36 NBA Finals games. His first Finals appearance was in Houston during the Rockets-Celtics series of 1986. In the last 17 years, there have only been two Game 7s in the NBA Finals — Rockets-Knicks in 1994 and Spurs-Pistons in 2005 — and he has worked both.
"When I first came into the league, Jake O'Donnell pulled me aside and said, 'If you're ever lucky enough to get a Game 7 in the Finals, savor it, because it's something very, very special.' Those words were in my ears that night in Houston when I walked out onto the court. It will always be a highlight of my career."
It's a career that has changed dramatically during his 29 seasons in the league, becoming less intuitive and much more professional. League observers view every game live and file a report. The referees get DVDs of the games and review and grade every call.
"We love instant replay, believe it or not," Crawford said. "Because the most important thing is to get it right. We don't want to decide the games or leave doubt.
"It was definitely easier back in the old days. But there wasn't a finality to it. I would walk into the locker room after a game and ask Earl Strom, 'What did you think about that goaltend call?' He'd say it was a good call or not. But who really knew?
"Now, I can watch the video and say, wow, I got it right. We're not winging it anymore. It's a craft."
Love that Barkley
Charles Barkley is his all-time favorite personality, and he loved swapping baseball stories with Larry Bird.
Crawford would like one myth laid to rest.
"There are no superstar calls," he said. "We don't root for certain teams. We don't cheat. But sometimes we just miss calls."
And when that happens?
"The next time I got the Rockets after that game in Utah, I walked right up to Stevie Francis and said, 'That was the worst ejection of my life.'
"He just smiled at me and said, 'Thanks, Joe. I needed to hear that.' "
__________________________________________________ _______________
Joey has always been one of my favorite refs.