courtesy of Penny Davis First starting out officiating high school basketball games, Joann Sather is currently a referee for NCAA Divisions I, II, and III.

We yell at them, spewing insults and buttered popcorn in their direction. We grumble when they make a mistake and most often ignore their contributions on a good night. We offer them little reason to keep working.

Indeed, if one of them should find the spotlight, his or her competence is likely being called into question. They more often prefer the background during their work and the back door after they're finished.

It's easy to miss those black-and-white-clad arbiters who run beside our teams on the fields and hardwoods of the world. Hearing about their humanity need not change our heckling habits as fans, but referees remain a vital part of the sports we love. Like them, hate them, or somewhere in between, the games couldn't go on without them.

They are referees, and they have a story to tell.

"We're there for the kids"

A contentious high school girls' basketball game just ended. Fouls played a major role in the outcome. The losing side heads to the locker room feeling slighted. This is no place for a referee.

But Joann Sather walks in anyway. She has to. This being the start of her officiating career, there are no separate changing facilities for female referees, so Sather shares a locker room with the visiting team.

Tension rises. Accusations fly. Players are restrained.

Sather quietly changes her clothes amid glares and insults, foregoes a shower, and departs.

Fast forward a few months to the same high school gym, with Sather working another girls' junior varsity (JV) matchup.

In the midst of an intense game, Sather sees a player rearing back to hit her opponent. Sather intercedes in time to receive the brunt of a punch intended for someone else.

"She cold-cocked me," Sather said. "Clocked me right in the shoulder. In the same gym. I didn't like going to that gym."

When she started refereeing, Sather didn't expect to be in such intense environments. Originally, she wanted to coach as her children entered organized sports, but the daily time demands proved difficult. Aside from being a mother of two, Sather worked as a behavioral specialist and special education teacher in the Longview and Wenatchee School Districts.

With refereeing, she could adapt her schedule more easily. So, starting in 1987, Sather began with youth, high school, and recreational league officiating.

"I used to do a men's rec league," she said. "There were guys who would follow me out to the parking lot and give me a hard time. They'd say, 'you bitch.' That was a little scary."

Though instances of physical and verbal abuse lessened with time, the path into refereeing didn't get much easier for Sather.

"For many years, I was the only woman," Sather said. "It was a challenge for me as far as wanting to move up."

In what she described as a "good ol' boy system," Sather was assigned no varsity games. She did well on peer ratings and coach evaluations. She attended summer camps for professional development where she would often be the lone female among up to 75 whistle-blowers. Yet she stayed stuck with JV.

Then through connections made at the camps, Sather received an offer to leave the local establishment and work college games.

"I worked a college game before I ever worked a high school varsity game," Sather said.

After her initial opportunity, Sather stayed in the collegiate ranks for 20 years, officiating National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) Division I, II, and III games. This spring, Sather plans to retire to devote more time to being a grandmother. A family-focused end to her career will bring Sather's story full circle.

Nearing the end of her refereeing days, Sather often reflects on her career. Drawing from her experiences as a collegiate player, referee, and fan, she has developed her own analogy to explain the role of a referee.

"It's like there are two lawyers, and we're a judge. We're facilitating what goes on in a game," she said. "We're there to be the mediator to determine what's within the rules and what isn't.

"Officials do not care who wins the game. We're there for the same reason the coaches are there and the parents are there. We're there for the kids. We have something to contribute to this game and this sport as much as anybody else."

"A pretty good job at the end of the day"

If refereeing were its own sport with idolized stars and trading cards, the statistics for Penny Davis might look like this: 11 years experience, including two in the Women's National Basketball Association (WNBA); three to five days on the road most weeks; two to three sessions per week of watching game tape; one of about 33 referees in the WNBA.

Yet like many professional athletes, Penny Davis still yearns to improve.

"The people who really get into and get bitten by the officiating bug are competitive and want to get better," she said.

For Davis, ascension to a top level came quickly but not with great ease. After finishing her playing career in college, she wanted to stay involved in the game.

"I got involved at a high school level," Davis said. "They're pretty much looking for anybody with a pulse, even if you can't get up and down the floor."

Judging by her rise through the refereeing ranks, Davis had both the pulse and the patience to stick with the craft. It took her six years to reach NCAA Division I, a period in which she attended about 20 developmental camps.

"I'm working toward the things I want to accomplish," she said. "With every year, I feel like I've gotten better and improved. I still have goals I want to achieve. The biggest thing is not getting comfortable in what you're doing. The minute you get comfortable is the minute your game doesn't go well and you have a bad attitude about it."

Part of what has allowed Davis to pursue officiating is her work as a freelance business Web site developer. Owning her own company allows Davis to tailor her schedule around constant travel.

"I am on the road a lot," she said. "That's probably the hardest part of the job, when I have that 5 a.m. wake-up call, dragging myself out of bed, going on the shuttle. That's where I earn my money. That's why they pay the [NCAA] Division I referees as much as they do."

As with professional athletes, Davis often develops a hankering for home.

"I think people forget we have families, kids, careers, and other avenues," she said. "I think people forget there's a person behind the stripes and the whistle."

In the absence of family, Davis does enjoy the camaraderie among fellow officials, especially when they can empathize in the face of criticism.

"Fans are obviously not the most intellectual when it comes to the rules, despite what they think. That's part of the game in my book," she said. "It's easy to let those things roll off. But when it comes from a coach, they're expected to know the rules. When Bob Knight throws a chair, there's no warning."

Yet even in unpredictable situations, Davis feels well-prepared and backed by the institutions for which she works.

"If it [verbal feedback] becomes abusive, to the point where it's racist, sexist, to a point like that, there's zero tolerance. In those situations, it's really pretty easy to throw the technical and make the ejection," she said. "We're supported by the NCAA. We are holding up the integrity of the game."

At points in her training, Davis has been told that studies show referees get the call right about 96 percent of the time. Though she has ascended quickly as an official, Davis remains fueled by a drive to maintain and improve that high level of accuracy.

"This is my second year in the WNBA. There are about 33 refs in that league. I'm in pretty good company," she said. "You can feed on it. It's competitive. It's fun. It's a pretty good job at the end of the day."

"The sport of the unsung hero"

Mike Partlow doesn't care what people think; he loves refereeing.

"I've been refereeing for 30 years, in Division I basketball for 27," Partlow said. "I rarely find anyone who thinks I'm sane."

A man who dabbles in four sports, Partlow remembers starting his officiating career with a class at Washington State University, Pep220, a two-credit class with a lab. After officiating 30 required hours for coursework, he started refereeing for pay since it was the highest hourly wage a student could earn on the WSU campus.

"I figured, hell, I've been yelled at my whole life as an athlete," Partlow said. "I can get paid for being yelled at."

An officiating career was born.

"I grew up really fast in refereeing," Partlow said. "Most of the coaches were 10-25 years older than me. It'd be like telling your dad he couldn't do something."

As a younger referee, Partlow said he worked up to 150 games a year. Since Division I referees run about five to eight miles per game, he discovered that a balance had to be struck between enjoying the game and resting his body.

"As I've gotten older, I've found I work less and enjoy it more," he said. He added, "Part of officiating is having a real life and a real job, and then becoming a professional official. It used to be viewed as a hobby and is now a second job."

Only a handful of referees can fully retire from other work, Partlow said. These individuals have a careful financial plan, love the work, and must take extremely good care of their bodies.

For those who continue working, a career will likely require the freedom to travel and adapt one's work schedule. Partlow markets data destruction and shredding machinery for a uniform and janitorial supply company called Cintas.

Whether full or part-time, most officials would agree that their work with the whistle is not glamorous, Partlow said. Travel is tough. And there are always unruly observers.

"Some people think their $5 ticket empowers them to say some very inappropriate things," Partlow said. "Coaches, I understand it's their livelihood. If they disagree with me, some of it is staged, and some of it is very genuine. But our job is to make them and their players better."

Particularly at the beginning of each season, referees hear criticism from the sidelines, Partlow said. That's because the NCAA redefines the rules and emphases for the new year, mandating that hand checking be whistled more or that jostling before a corner kick be given special attention. Since coaches, players, and fans don't attend these workshops, they have to adjust their expectations.

After games, referees often gather to discuss their performance. Constant review by coaches, peers, and administrators helps officials to improve.

"There's an instant report card and immediate feedback," Partlow said. "That's something that reinforces what we do."

Yet Partlow continues to emphasize the lack of personal glory in the profession. As the saying goes, when a referee officiates the perfect game, it's time to retire.

As Partlow presses into another year of refereeing NCAA Division I basketball, his satisfaction comes not from refereeing a perfect game but from his longevity, having stayed in the profession for over 30 years. He's seen athletes become officials themselves. He's refereed future National Basketball Association stars such as Gary Payton, J.R. Reid, and Scott Williams. And he's enjoyed all of it.

"The irony is that they've all come and gone, and guys like me are still working the sport. I did last a little longer after all," Partlow said. "It's the sport of the unsung hero."