Canada vs. India, the latest chapter in my umpiring career.

The day was perfect for hockey. The rain that had fallen steadily for 4 days let off in the morning, and though the skies were overcast the temperature was comfortable. A tempest looked to be brewing to the west and the north, reflecting the serious mood of the participants but staying away so as not to mar the game.

I had been eager to get to Surrey from my home in Calgary since the appointment had been made a month previous. I had even gone through some pre-match jitters the Wednesday before, something I was not used to experiencing. Once at the pitch, however, I was filled with a bouncing energy that was hard to contain.

I watched the players warm up, and it became more and more apparent that the skill level was going to be something we rarely see in this country, from both sides. I had once tried out with some of the veterans of the Canadian side and they had never looked so good; intensity was in their eyes and their skills were polished. It was difficult to stifle the sense of pride I always felt when in their presence.

The Indians were simply awesome in their individual skill, and I began to formulate my game plan of allowing plenty of advantage, enabling them to showcase it for what would prove to be one of the biggest crowds I have umpired in front of. This, of course, would be revealed to me later, as I became intensely aware of a focus of things solely on the pitch, and happenings outside the black fence were unrecognized by me.

One of the best things about umpiring hockey is the relationships I have garnered over the years. I am fortunate to be able to say that two of my officiating idols are also friends of mine, icons in their own right and known all over the world. Their support and guidance over the past decade has been not only immensely helpful but in some cases the motivation for me to continue umpiring when it was difficult for me to see a reason to do so. Alan and Sumesh were both pitch side, there to observe and offer insights that would help me and my colleague Saleem through the day’s proceedings.

I felt extremely good mentally and physically as game time slowly approached. My muscles felt like coiled springs waiting to be unleashed and the usual aches and pains I am prone to experience from a lifetime of physical punishment were faint ghosts only perceptible in the back of my mind. I went with the urges of my body to test the limits of my joints that usually cried out angrily to me and even doing lunges did not elicit the usual twinges of pain in my knees. All the signals I was getting from my mind and body said I was ready.

After the usual pre-game chat with Saleem I began to visualize how the match was going to play out. I saw myself in good position and gave myself the reminder that anticipation was going to be vital so as not to be left in the dust. Each and every decision was going to be important and could influence the game profoundly. Both teams looked ready as two thoroughbreds in the gate at a race track, waiting to explode at the sound of the bell.

The tension continued to build with the pre-match pomp and circumstance. There were many dignitaries to be introduced to and finally the national anthems. It was all I could do not to fidget, although I couldn’t stop my foot from tapping behind me every 5 seconds. I stared into the ground 10 meters in front of me, playing scenarios over in my mind and what decision had to follow each one. When the Canadian anthem finished I turned to my colleague with a big grin and wished him luck, then turned to my sideline and jogged into position at the 23 meter line. The sense of holding back as I jogged was incredible; I wanted to sprint and release the pent up energy, opting instead to hold it in for the moment I really needed it.

As expected, both teams jumped into action the moment the match started as if released from a leash. I remained cool and calm, and kept the thought in the back of my head that I couldn’t afford to get caught up in the moment. The more intense the teams got the more it would force me to look more peaceful and at rest, all the while primal instincts were pushing me to the brink of boiling over and joining into the fray. I was in such a happy place, the only place I wanted to be at that moment. When I am asked why I do what I do it is hard to explain my motives, but there, in the moment, the only word I can use to describe the feeling is love. It is my world and the only place I want to be. Aside from being with my wife it is one of the few places I am truly happy, a vocation that I would gladly do every day if I was able. The exhilaration, the rush, and the sense of being home are all drugs for me. The very thought of it as I write this brings a swelling in my chest and my eyes brim with tears of pride and utter bliss.

As with all international games there is more going on than just the play around the ball. I became acutely aware of things happening well behind the play that threatened to distract me if I wasn’t careful. My senses sharpened with the added stimulus, and I was drawn deeper into the player’s world. I engaged them with my voice and my presence moving closer to them in order to pre-empt any physical play. It was having the desired effect and I was seeing the play develop well before the 2,500 fans were privy to it, like a secret only I was in on. As the Indians attacked I knew that each decision in the circle had to be solid, as their penalty corner unit was deadly. The first three penalties were either missed or defended, the last striking a defender dangerously. I didn’t even need to consult my colleague as my concentration was such that despite the lightening speed I saw it play out in an eerie type of slow motion. I was in the proverbial zone.

Time seemed to be running quickly. There were twelve minutes left in the half and still no score. Then there was a turnover on the Indian side of half on the far side of the pitch from me. It looked awkward, but as I looked to Saleem he was signaling play on. My feet had already turned to take me towards my own goal, so that when the first shot came on a partial break away I was well into position. The keeper made a brilliant save that quite possibly put his own safety in danger, and was unfortunate to have the rebound go directly to a second attacker’s stick that made no mistake on the scoring shot. I could understand the Canadian frustration on the play but felt that I had done what I needed to do in the situation. To their credit they turned around and resumed the attack that had been building and generated a few more chances prior to the end of the half. One final Indian flurry in my circle led the ball to become lost under the keeper, and the ensuing penalty corner would not be denied. 2-0 at half time.

I was as eager as the fans for the game to continue, and the ten minute half time dragged on for me. I wanted to get back into the action, and knew that the Canadians would be charging into my half looking for the equalizer. I have seen the boys electrified, but when DJ scored to bring Canada back to within one goal I must confess I was struck by the fire burning in his eyes and his celebration. It was a plucky goal, my only regret is having started to blow the whistle a split second before the ball went into the net. Just another example of getting caught up in the excitement of the play, though I doubt would have been overlooked had I been graded on the match.

My next major interjection was issuing a yellow card to an Indian defender who was a touch over zealous with his stick with one of the nicest guys in the game, Scott Sandison. He has always been magnanimous with me and I like to think of him when I think of the best the Canadian men’s team has to offer. He is a true ambassador. I was sorry when I looked up to see my colleague also yellow card him in the incident. I wish I could have spoken to Saleem about it but he was issuing his card while I issued mine. Later I was fooled by another Canadian player, and while my initial thought was to yellow card him for a rough foul against an Indian defender, the manner in which he was helped from the field made me second guess myself. I felt truly betrayed when he was back on the field five minutes later, more angry at myself for being sucked in by him, something I will be sure never to have happen again.

The Canadians kept pressing but were unable to convert on any of their chances, mostly due to a very composed Indian defense, calm and composed and unwavering. The pressure led the men in red to be over extended and a long Indian aerial that was, I am sure simply to relieve pressure, stayed in bounds forcing Dave Carter in the Canadian goal to make a dash for the side-lines to keep it away from an Indian attacker. He was deemed to have committed a foul and the call was made for a penalty corner, not very popular with the Canadian players or fans to say the least. This led to a deadly corner flick that put the Indian team ahead by two, an insurmountable lead considering the time remaining.

For my part I was satisfied by my performance in the match, and there were only a couple of moments that I have replayed over in my head. With better preparation I might have been able to react differently, but all in all I was happy with my contribution to the match. Better still was the felling that I was never really caught out physically, and my conditioning was better than I had hoped it would be. I have been trying not to over think my training, diet or physical appearance, and from the remarks given to me after the match I can perhaps begin to put that part of my game aside and focus on what really matters. It is hard for me to project a positive image of myself, but I seem to be my worst and only critic at this time.

This game of hockey truly is amazing. It can be graceful and fast, brutal in strength and magical in its finesse. I felt truly blessed to be a part of yesterday’s fixtures and eagerly await my next foray into international waters. I just wish it didn’t have to be so long to wait.