Ran into an old work acquaintance, GZ, who moved to another division, and was reminded of a story.
When working in the same office, we quickly found out we grew up in the same rural neighborhood some 200 miles away. Okay, he’s 10 years older than me, but nonetheless. He knew some of my older cousins. We both laughed because “…no one is from there…”, yet here we were working in the same place a state away.
Now, GZ’s hobby… and back up, deputy, adjacent, assistant job… is to referee football and basketball games for local high schools. Now, GZ is a smart man, but not worldly. And he freely admits such, emphasizing the point with the following story.
GZ was a referee in a junior high school (middle school, in some parlances) girls’ basketball game. One school was from ‘this side of the tracks’… squeaky clean, middle class, young ladies. The other school was from ‘the other side of the tracks’…cigarette smoking, tattoo bearing, tough-as-nails thug-ettes.
The game was hard fought, with the lead passing back and forth between the two teams. Maybe because it was so close, maybe because of the differences in social background, maybe “just because”… things got a little feisty between the girls.
Now, as a referee, GZ is charged with not only ensuring the game is played fairly within the rules, but also must make sure a level of sportsmanship is maintained as well. After a particularly nasty interchange between some girls near the ‘this side of the tracks’ bench, one of their coaches complained to GZ – –
Squeaky Clean Coach – “Hey, Ref! You need to get control here. You need to throw out that one girl. She just called one of my players a ‘Ho!’ right in front of me.”
Referee GZ – “So what? What should I care that the other team is calling your player a garden tool name?”
And those of us listening to GZ’s story? <blink>… <blink>… <blink>…
Nothing more to be said.
The Wilds of Ohio 