Yesterday I worked with veteran Detroit-area prep official Mike Hesson for a boys' basketball game between visiting Avondale High and the Rochester Adams' Highlanders.

Hesson's a walking, talking memoir of officiating's local history within a 30-year time period that dates back to the heady days of his sports officiating class at East Detroit High in the mid-to-late 1970s. Among the fond memories we reminisced from Hesson's treasure-trove of recollections was the creation of the officiating uniform.

Yes, there was a day when even the niftiest officiating uniforms were piece-mailed together from stops at uniform stores, restaurants with yellow napkins and sporting good stores that carried BB's, golf balls or fishing tackle.

"You purchased the striped shirts from local sporting goods stores," Hesson began. "But there was no choice in material so you chose long sleeves or short sleeves and were happy to have that choice. Striped jackets weren't available, so on inclement days, officials wore clear vinyl or plastic jackets. On cold days you added sweatshirts and long johns."

"Knickers weren't available -- and you couldn't use baseball pants because there were no pockets on those pants -- so officials would buy 'Cook's Whites' from a restaurant supply store and cut the pants down into knickers," Hesson recalled. "And all officials knew the Detroit-area restaurants with yellow napkins. You would have dinner there and forget a yellow napkin in your pocket. The napkin would be filled with BB's, sinkers or possibly a golf ball, and that's how you made your penalty flag."

Even more inconceivable is the way all the other accessories were created, like the bean bag, timing devices, all-black shoes and the game's Back Judge (BJ). Yes, the BJ was a accessory, a luxury even, if you will.

"Without a doubt, the schools were shamed into the fifth guy. I think it was '82 or '83 when the MHSAA (Michigan High School Athletic Association) started using the Back Judge for playoff games. Most crews were bring five guys and splitting four checks by that point anyway," Hesson explained. Ironically, the back judge position is where most varsity crew rookies get their start, yet the few flags the BJ throws per game usually all have the potential to be the most-scrutinized calls of the night.

"I can't remember if a bean bag was required when I got started, but it was a process of taking material from an old shirt, filling it with popcorn and sewing it up," Hesson said. "There were no all-in-one socks, either. First it was a black stirrup sock with a white sock over the top. Then we changed to a baseball stirrup with three stripes until we changed to the socks we have today."

"And there were no timing devices!" Hesson told me. "Oh my god, you would wear a coaches' stopwatch with a wristband that railroad people used to wear the watch on your wrist." Hesson also explained black shoes were a rarity and choice was limited to Spot-Bilt or Ridell. Most officials would buy a pair of all-black shoes and have a new sole applied, because you couldn't use football cleats -- they weren't available in all-black back then.

Today, it's all point 'n click on the Internet with drop shipping included. In less than five minutes an official can have his or her entire uniform ordered and fulfilled. The two biggest national officiating apparel giants are located less than seven miles from each other in the same town, Ann Arbor, Michigan. Cliff Keen Athletic and Honig's Whistle Stop.

Back in the day it was about a Cup o' Joe, a diner's special and a stop at the marina or bait-and-tackle shop, all to make a few calls and few bucks along the way.

(Photo courtesy Stan Lopata family collection)

~T.C. Cameron is the author of Metro Detroit's High School Football Rivalries (already out) and Metro Detroit's High School Basketball Rivalries, due August 2009 from Arcadia Publishing.

The referees of the National Football League (NFL) will never be confused with literary wordsmiths, but the two entities, seemingly polar opposites, have one surprising commonality.

Word specificity.

Certainly, the aforementioned statement requires some consideration that extends more than a few city blocks away from the basic teachings of Journalism 101. However, the necessity of exacting word language is one not reserved exclusively for authors, editors and writers. It’s something referees and umpires utilize on a daily basis -- on an immediate stage -- in front of a demanding public. While some of this is staged and rehearsed several times over, like the classic drone of “Holding on the offense” (hardly prize-winning copy in anyone’s opinion), the more obscure the call and the more the play or foul impacts or changes the outcome of the game, the more intricate the required wording.

In a professional football game earlier two seasons past, a foul by the offense was committed while the clock was counting down the final seconds of the last quarter. With but eight scant seconds remaining, the home team completed a long pass to warrant a possible game-winning field goal try, but the play was flagged for illegal motion by a wideout. The crowd buzzed with anticipation as the officials huddled around the Referee, wearing the white hat. Finally, he gave the preliminary signal, a formation penalty against the offense that was booed lustily. The Referee finally stepped forward to an open patch of grass facing the press box, turned on his microphone and announced to 60,000 fans in the stadium and millions watching on television:

“Illegal motion by the offense – the receiver failed to set before the snap. The penalty is enforced from the previous spot by yardage and 2nd down is repeated. By rule, any penalty assessed against the offense in the last minute of the game with a running clock requires a 10-second runoff. The regulation four quarters of the game is now declared complete. Overtime procedures will now commence.”

That might seem like a convoluted way to say overtime, but tell that to 60,000 passionate fans paying $60 per seat, a pair of million-dollar coaches with a livelihood depending on winning and losing football games and millions watching on television. Does anyone think fans will be satisfied with, “The penalty, illegal formation against the offense. By rule, the quarter is over. Overtime.”

Not on your life.

Words like enforce, assess, declare and commence are all very active, precise words. They’re not only required, they embolden the game arbiters, forced by trade to make game-altering decisions. The articulate, exacting words also lend credence to the decisions they make without schmaltzy salesmanship.

Speaking as a collegiate and high school official, I’ve learned to be very careful in the words I choose when a delicate situation presents itself. To wit, instead of telling a coach I ejected No, 19 for fighting, I might instead tell the coach, “No. 19 has disqualified himself from tonight’s contest for fighting, and by rule, cannot sit on the bench for the remainder of the contest.” Notice the difference? I ejected the athlete in the first sentence. In the second example, the player disqualified himself. The player’s actions disqualified him, not the referee. A subtle difference that can go a long way in the immediate perception a coach forms of my ability to handle a situation.

Sports writers are long known for their usage of active verbs and colorful depictions, as well as the occasional absent-minded question, but their flair for words is slowing crossing from the press box to the sidelines. Therefore, the days when vernacular on the field matched the verbiage in the locker room, or 'jock talk', are over. Today’s major college and professional arenas are entertainment venues. People pay over-the-top fees to sit court side during National Basketball Association (NBA) games to listen to the dialog as referees defuse tempers and soothe the occasional feathered ego of multi-million dollar athletes.

Mike Pereira, the NFL’s officiating czar, tries to place his officials in situations that cultivate and play to each official's professional acumen. "I don’t teach the word script. The thing is you have to be natural. If I’m script-specific, I’m nervous and follow what everyone else says, "Pereira explained in a 2007 interview with for an article that was scuttled by Referee Magazine. "(As an official), you have to put yourself in comfortable position, because there’s a number of different people you'll have to communicate with, including coaches, players, administrators, even other officials, that an official has to communicate within many different situations."

Pereira also said something in the aforementioned interview that remains relevant today: "There are two different angles when the play takes place. The way it’s seen on the field, and the way the play is seen from on the sideline. "

Most football fans are well-versed in last weekend's call by Referee Ed Hochuli in the waning minutes of Denver's game with San Diego, won by the Broncos after a Denver fumble was incorrectly called an incompletion by Hochuli. It was the considerable communication skills of Hochuli, specifically his being forthright in the moment on the field and ultimately, his honesty about the grief he felt about his missed call that has quelled the situation as an unfortunate miss of a crucial call.

Even in failure, the specific word can paint a picture that leads toward redemption.

An official's elocution, however, has a thin line of demarcation. Say too much and risk muddling an already hotly-contested issue. Say too little and you might be seen as aloof or worse. It’s something longtime football referee Dick Honig mastered from a dual officiating career. Now retired from the field or court in the Mid-American Conference or Big Ten, Honig operates Honig’s Whistle Stop, a national, retail distribution business outfitting officials. Honig says being a wordsmith isn’t just in what you say, but how little you have to say to say it.

"Short and sweet leaves little room for repeat," Honig said in the summer of 2006 from his Ann Arbor headquarters. "It's important you make sure to answer the question - in full - without trying to say more than you have to. Often it's what is said that has nothing to do with the call or non-call that gets guys in trouble."

~ T.C. Cameron is the author of Metro Detroit's High School Football Rivalries, and is working on a follow-up title, Metro Detroit's High School Basketball Rivalries!