Title | Division I Men's Basketball Championship First & Second Rounds |
Creator (LCNAF) |
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Publisher | National Collegiate Athletic Association |
Date | March 15, 1990 - March 17, 1990 |
Subject.Topical (LCSH) |
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Subject.Name (LCNAF) |
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Subject.Geographic (TGN) |
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Genre (AAT) |
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Language | English |
Type (DCMI) |
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Original Item Location | ID 2009-006, Box 7, Folder 7 |
Original Collection | Athletics Department Records |
Digital Collection | University of Houston Sports Championship Publications |
Digital Collection URL | http://digital.lib.uh.edu/collection/champ |
Repository | Special Collections, University of Houston Libraries |
Repository URL | http://info.lib.uh.edu/about/campus-libraries-collections/special-collections |
Use and Reproduction | Educational use only, no other permissions given. Copyright to this resource is held by the content creator, author, artist or other entity, and is provided here for educational purposes only. It may not be reproduced or distributed in any format without written permission of the copyright owner. For more information please see UH Digital Library Fair Use policy on the UH Digital Library About page. |
File Name | index.cpd |
Title | Page 55 |
Format (IMT) |
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File Name | champ_201306_035_054.jpg |
Transcript | rough" would come back to haunt Ballesteros. Having attained a full Division I schedule by his mid-thirties, which is remarkable speed by any rate, Ballesteros was due for a fall, or at least one of those setbacks. All officials have them, and even speak with pride of "getting their noses bloodied" along the way to learning that there is far more to this gig than knowing the rulebook and casebook by rote. Ballesteros' setback was the virtue that got him to the university level — intensity. "It definitely slowed me down," Ballesteros said. "I was so intense about everything that I would get people angry with me. Coaches would tell Frank they couldn't trust me in a big game, and that hurt. "I remember Frank gave me some tapes and told me to watch them, and I did — eight hours of tape. What I saw was me jumping around a lot to the point where it was almost disconcerting. I knew right then and there that I needed to slow myself down a little. You know, still work as hard as I know how, but not be so intense about everything." That adjustment came about five years ago by his reckoning, just in time for him to be hit with another — three-man crews. "I'll tell you right now," he said, almost defiantly, "I was the worst three-man official ever — the world's worst. I'd get to the center position and I would call stuff out of my area, taking calls from guys, all sorts of things. It was hard for me to give up a part of my ego to another guy. I was sure Frank was going to fire me after the second year of three-man. I realized that I had to be objective about my career. I was having trouble at it, and I had to get better. I had to let my ego go. Sometimes you'll be at the center position and you'll go six or seven minutes without a call. It's hard to keep your perspective then, it's like you're not even out there. So what I had to do was decide that when the calls weren't coming to me, I'd become the best game administrator in the world. I'd make sure the substitutes came in when they should, the benches were in order, have the right shooter on the line for him, make sure the table was running smoothly, whatever I needed to stay sharp for when the calls started coming to me. "That's when you realize how much is involved in becoming a good official. A lot of guys can blow the whistle, but there's a lot more to it than just making the right call. You've got to be aware of the players and coaches, and you've got to be a good official for your partner when he's making the calls." The last couple of seasons, then, have been the payoff for all those grammar school games, Sundays away from home, doubts and struggles for Ballesteros. He worked the North Carolina-Arizona West regional final in 1988 and came within fractions of a point on the observers' rating system of being selected to work the Final Four that year. He is now a lead official in the widest sense of the word, a very recognizable fellow indeed. "I remember the first time I was at Arizona State this year," he said with a smile. "(Head coach) Bill Frieder is talking with George McQuarn (an Arizona State assis tant and former head coach at Fullerton State) and pointing at me. Well, I come over and I ask George, 'What's the deal? We haven't even started, and you guys are mad at me already?' He says, 'No, no, Richie, honest. Bill was just asking me about you, and I told him you were all right.' That made me feel good." That is because a coach saying, "You're all right" to an official is the equivalent of saying, "Let's go to the Bahamas" to your wife. It is one of the few tangible ways of measuring an official's image and level of accomplishment. It is almost as good as a night off in January with the family. Q By becoming a top-notch "administrator" on the court, Ballesteros has Increased his level of competency to greater heights. 54 |