part two: i got my swagger back

Make sure you read part one first for the all-important dramatic context.

Arriving in the UK, I had two goals for my umpiring. One: streamline my international presence; and two: develop my style.

It was easy to set out to conquer my first goal. I joined the gym 5 minutes up Yarm Road and started going daily, apart from the days I umpire and one rest day a week. Clearly, I hadn't realized the full extent of the damage my osteoarthritic knees were doing to my fitness before I had my treatments in September. I was in utter denial about the atrophy to my muscles and shrinking aerobic capacity. Whether it was just laziness or just the fact that I could barely walk an hour after any kind of workout (or getting up from my desk, or walking down the stairs first thing in the morning, or walking up the stairs at night, or not being able to bend my knees past 90º) - whatever, what's important is that I'm training again and training hard.

After a month it's already night and day. I feel strong again on the pitch, at ease with the pace, calm after a big sprint. I'm addicted to the workout "high" - although I don't feel it as a high per se but as a "medium" that gets me out of the doldrums to where I want to be on a daily basis. And I don't look quite so Stay-Puft anymore, thank goodness.

As for the second goal, well... it's not turning out to be quite so easy. How do I go about developing a style, particularly one that's unique to me? That fits my personality? That, in the end, is appealling to the Big Shots? That looks good on TV? I have little idea, and clearly that's my problem.

I tried the approach I use with any scary big project - break it down into baby-steps, something(s) small and tangible. I decided I was going to try signalling "play on" differently. I had a couple of ideas, but I decided to try using one or two arms, pointed diagonally downwards with a flat palm showing. I've seen a few umpires doing it, male and female, and it looks like you can make it dramatic or laid back. One Trini umpire I'd seen would just point at the ball as it was being moved on the pitch without saying a word (he's a quiet man), as if to say "it's right there, just go ahead, the ball's right there, still in play...". I wanted to invoke that same sense of obviousness, if you will.

I have yet to use the signal in a game. For whatever reason, I am utterly blocked from doing it. The decision is made in my mind, the words come out of my mouth, "Play on!" or "It's ok, no foul there"... but instead of that glorious indication of obviousness, what I started doing recently is put one arm up in the air and start waving with my hand in a "c'mere" motion. From his Enron days, Greg calls it "waving it in", when you're happy with something and you're accepting it as yours. Why am I doing that signal instead? Hell if I know.

But what I do know is that in every game prior to the corner turning, I felt uncomfortable. I was focusing on the calls, staring intently and working it through my head, "now, am I going to call this 'international-standard' or 'local standard'? What exactly just happened there?". I felt like I was never quite in the right spot, like I was sleeping on the wrong side of the bed. I'd look down and there I was, where I should be, but it just didn't feel good. And every game I'd walk off the pitch, feeling more than a little disembodied, as if it wasn't even really me that had been out there for the last 70 minutes. If someone did tell me I'd done a good game, I could only shrug my shoulders and think to myself that it wasn't my kind of good game, not to my standard.

Objectively, maybe I didn't look that bad out there. But clearly, I wasn't myself. I had my first assessment in the NPUA and the grade was so far below my standard and the comments so different from the feedback I've been getting for the past couple of years, I wondered who the hell was doing the game. It was so disconcerting.

It all came to a head during an ugly game between Sunderland and Poynton, two Division One teams. The ugliness came from none of the participants except Mother Nature, who snappishly poured down rain from shortly before start time to just as the match was finishing, accompanied by a lovely sweep of wind from the west. To say the game was challenging for not only the players, who couldn't feel their sticks in their hands by half-time, and for my colleague Kate and I, is an understatement. Sunderland had gone up 2-0 by the half but in the second, Poynton scored two opportunistic goals in my end, the second of which was very contested. Not the goal itself, but in the play leading up the centre back was dispossessed fo the ball only a few yards behind the centre line, and no-one had her cover. The Poynton forward broke in unmolested and finished on a straight shot by the keeper.

Sunderland was furious at me, believing I had missed a foul by the dispossessing attacker. All I can remember is that I didn't see it. I'm not sure whether I saw the play properly or not, which means I was out of position. And nothing bothers me more than being out of position, because it means you miss calls. I don't know if I missed the call, but the fact that I can't defend it with the evidence in my brain is a much harsher indictment.

So here it is: I'd spent 4 weeks trying to add one little signal to my game, and I was a mess. Well, really, maybe it wasn't just about that signal. Coming off the nightmare in the Dominican that I did, I was shaken. I didn't want to admit it consciously, because we all know that nothing sends your umpiring to hell in a handbasket than admitting that you've lost your confidence. But I was trying to change something, make some aspect of my game better, and I was failing. Over and over again. In the back of my mind, it was there. Maybe they're right. Maybe I don't have it. Maybe I'm nothing more than a career minor-leaguer, a Pan Am umpire destined to do a tournament in a year between teams ranked 32nd and 33rd in the world, until I fall off the radar screen entirely years before my retirement age.

Everything was being compounded by the fact that I'd left my family and friends (and therefore my biggest supporters) behind to travel across the world to a country where an FIH badge earned somewhere other than in England, Germany, the Netherlands, Argentina, Australia or New Zealand means that it was basically fraudulently obtained. Umpiring is so much my focus right now it feels like it's all that I do, and all that I think about when I'm not doing it - talk about creating your own pressure.

I wanted to get outside my comfort zone, and yep, I was so uncomfortable my skin itched my own muscles and sinew.

Yikes, eh?

Luckily, I had a little help. There are a few umpires over here that have for some unknown reason decided that they'll not only listen to my bizarre ramblings but also try to give me a hand. Not only did they just reassure me that I'd get out of it, but they also said some S-M-R-T things. Like - keep it simple. Go out and have a good time, get out of the bloody house why don't you and pretend to have a life and maybe you'd get some perspective about this umpiring stuff while you're at it? Relax... etc. etc.

It took me several days and the Sunderland vs. Poynton game to find the "keeping it simple" part. As my buddy John always says, everything flows from correct positioning. Accuracy, presentation, credibility, confidence - if you're in the right spot, everything is easy. So I dropped any thoughts of style with my arms, or worrying about whether the players could speak Canadian or not such that I needed to translate my verbiage into British, or whether I had a streamlined international presence and just made sure that I was ahead of the play, tight to my post and otherwise where I needed to be.

It worked.

Saturday I had another Sunderland game (we're all getting quite tight, they're going to miss me next week when they play away from Durham) and I could see it all before it happened, knew when the cards needed to come out and which of the rainbow of colours they needed to be. I wasn't thinking through the decisions - they were self-evident before the players ever came together. Sunday was ever better, a Div One-quality North Div game between Durham University and recently-promoted Cannock with an exciting finish. Hold the phone - I had fun.

With a nod to Will Smith - yep, I got that swagger back.

(A big Tip Of The Hat to Matt, Matt, Simon, and David for the advice and support. Of course, also to Greg, who had to listen helplessly over a delayed VOIP signal for hours on end.)

Comments

[john coxon]

Hi,
Didn't surprise me how honest this was, the irony , the intelligence and the way the anecdote just flows. A born write and a book should eventually follow.

I am really happy to read this- a bold but necessary step to self fulfulment has to be getting out of the comfort zone. In a way , some of this mirrors my own experience in terms of self criticism ; that time when I review photogrpahs from games and curse being in the wrong place at the wrong time or hitting the shutter button at the wrong moment.

As a sports tog I think I see the game in an objective way ; I am there on the touchline and see how players interact, how they rwact to decesions , how anger at decisions so much becomes an own goal
because the player is in denial for example and that becomes the focus for them , not letting it go as an incident , a moment in time , and failing to get on with the game. Problem i see too often is in the north West , in lower leagues especially, each team provides an umpire and standards range from very good to abysmal / biased , partisan etc. One game I witnessed the umpire from the visitors was clearly and alcoholic fresh out of the pub, pores reeking of booze the way , you know the fumes stick with the body in a disgusting winno smell so different from the smell you get just from the mouth in more moderate drinkers. We abandoned the game at half time becuase he was a danger in terms of inability to make decisions and thus ensure the safety of the players.

Zippy is an exception and Matt's sulk was pretty typical of the crap umpires suffer. Joke is course that Zippy is from Bolton and his decision was right and of course shows he is not deferntial or partisan.

I have been through a lot of personal crap fed by the opinions of others in both my teaching career and in a previous relationship where, instead of trusting that confident and very able iunner self, I bought into lesson observation reports , inspector's opinions etc etc.

Look at Zippy ! He has a unique brand of 'athletic presence'and a presonal style. My observation is that he is a talented umpire and his greatest asset is his ability to be himself.

From observations of Hockey, football, rugby games , it is the refs or umpires who are themselves and use those perosnal interactive skills in the games to reduce tension, explain decisions , be firm and openly reasonable and fair that make the best job of governing the game.

I read with interest , way back when sport's psychology was in its infancy and when tennis coaching, orginating from the USA , was underpinned with the notion of " the inner game"

That notion sort of underpins the reflections you shared here so honestly. It is as if , on and off the pitch you got distracted both by the inner voice that beats you up but yets keeps you keen and mean ( or should do ) or the abuse from players , spectators and the subjective negativity of officials who judge your game. Aren't they stating a personal preference by , for example saying you are too fat ?

Crazy thing is that constructive criticism is less likely than destructive criticism and self criticism is often destructive if you let them eat away at that inner self super umpire dying to get out. Equally, no one had to tell you you could do with shedding a few pouns etc etc -you already tell yourself some of this stuff - my guess.
Funny but I had a turn around experience very recently myself. Confidence had slipped, was negative about myself, my life , my photography "business" having recently retired and on my own at home too much , slipping more and more into alcohol abuse in the vening. You saw me in a bar with orange day three of my new start.

Won't go into too much detail of how I changed perception over night but the symbol if you like was to move my wrist watch from my left hand to the right. I was and felt who I was , the best of me and am back on track and complelty sure that is where I will stay and can achieve anything. ( there is a very sound psychological background to this which you would find in the most recent body of stuff on the psychology of excellence all based on failry recent new findings
about how the brain works ( sure you know this stuff)

Essentially I warmed to you even before you spoke and the brief conversation we had did nothing to dispel that. you have that pickiness , challenging little things , a kind of precision, attention to detail but in asserting yourself you are not intimidating but you are forceful and the irony you have and sense of humour. I think that you command respect - to be honest it kind of made me more thoughtful before I opened my mouth - you kind of forced an adjustment if that makes sense. If you have that on the pitch as well then you are doing your job. You just are an umpire , a born arbitrator- it is written right through you !

I may a tad eccentric and ranting here in my own quirky way but it just kind of rolled out based on a chance meeting. Sadly I didn't have the balls to ask if I could take a shot of you in the bar. Having rwad your blog entry here I am kicking myself!

Very best wishes and keep flying.

John