Words From The Warden

My journey as a football and basketball official began during my sophomore year at Ohio Northern University. I dedicated myself to mastering the craft, investing significant effort to become proficient in my role. Despite my hard work, I frequently encountered criticism from both coaches and fans, who often accused me of favoring the opposing team. No matter how diligently I performed, there were always voices insisting that my calls were biased and that I had influenced the outcome in favor of the other side.

Over time, I realized that these reactions stemmed from the different perspectives of those involved in the games. It took a few years to understand that coaches and fans simply did not see the same things I did on the court or field. Eventually, I came to appreciate that their viewpoints were valid from their own positions, even if they differed from mine.

One particular experience in 1979 stands out vividly. I was officiating a high school varsity basketball game at Fort Jennings, a small school in the northwest corner of Ohio, as they hosted Spencer-Sharples, an all-black school from just west of Toledo. The matchup itself was unique—rural, all-white Fort Jennings against suburban, all-black Spencer-Sharples—which created a charged atmosphere.

During the game, as I ran down the sideline, I overheard the Sharples coach remark, “Ref, because we’re black you don’t have to call everything on us.” Moments later, as I passed the scorer’s table, the Fort Jennings coach commented, “Hank, just because they’re black you don’t have to call everything in their favor.” It became clear to me that my perceived bias was evident to everyone, but it depended entirely on which team someone supported. Each side interpreted my actions through the lens of their own allegiances.

Several years later, I officiated a night football game at Northwestern University. The Wildcats, under coach Randy Walker, were playing against Lloyd Carr’s Michigan Wolverines. During a play on the far side of the field, Northwestern’s sideline believed there had been pass interference by Michigan, yet no flag was thrown. Coach Walker, visibly frustrated, questioned me, “Hank, do they tell you people not to call fouls against Michigan?”

After the game, our officiating crew reviewed the film and confirmed that no pass interference had occurred. A few weeks later, during another Northwestern game, Coach Walker acknowledged that our call had been correct; the play was not as he initially perceived from his vantage point. This reinforced for me that perception is, indeed, reality for many people involved in the game.
Recently, I found myself unsettled by a Gospel reading and Pastor Julia’s sermon. The message struck uncomfortably close to home, as the parable could easily have begun, “Henry, praying said, ‘God, thanks for making me better than the other guys.’” I recognized in myself the tendency to judge others—the Nepalese in Pickerington and Reynoldsburg with their distinct customs, the neighbor who worships at the Apostolic church with his family’s unique dress and roles, and the fundamentalists whose understanding of Jesus’s teachings I question.

I was reminded that I am like the Pharisee in the parable. I often fall short of who I want to be. I am not always the person I aspire to become, and at times, I embody traits I wish to avoid. In those moments, I find myself echoing the prayer, “God be merciful to me, a sinner.”

Peace,
Henry Zaborniak, Senior Warden