High-Profile Games Will Bring Attention to Everything: Lead With Discipline, Not Emotion

Sarge
Dec 5
5 min read

In high-profile basketball games, every decision you make as an official will be magnified. Cameras capture every whistle, every non-whistle, every gesture, and every reaction. Fans, coaches, athletes, and especially opponents of the moment will dissect your performance in real time.

And afterward, the world will replay it in slow motion and debate it with absolute certainty—even when they have never officiated a game in their lives.

As someone who spent years in the military before ever setting foot on a state tournament floor, I learned early that leadership isn’t measured when everything is quiet — it’s revealed when the pressure hits. And high-profile games have a way of revealing everyone.

You. Them. The environment. The culture.

Pressure Doesn’t Create Leaders — It Exposes Them

In combat, you learn fast that fear, uncertainty, exhaustion, and stress don’t build you into a leader — they expose the one you already are. The same thing happens under the lights of a championship game.

When the game is tight, the atmosphere is hostile, and the building is buzzing with tension, you don’t suddenly become more professional, more poised, or more principled. You operate from your baseline discipline.

If your baseline is weak, emotional, and reactive, that’s exactly who you become when the gym gets loud.

If your baseline is disciplined, prepared, and mission-driven, you remain calm even when everyone around you is losing control.

A whistle does not build composure. Pressure does not build integrity.

It exposes it.

The Enemy Isn’t the Noise — It’s Your Reaction to the Noise

In the military, we talk about situational awareness, external threat, and internal control. You cannot control the battlefield — you can only control how you process and respond to it.

Officiating is remarkably similar.

Fans are going to yell. Media is going to manipulate. People online are going to talk.

That is not the threat.

The threat is losing your discipline because you’re offended by civilians acting like civilians.

What happens after a big game is not about external conflict — it’s about internal command and control.

If you lose control of yourself, your integrity, and your professionalism, then you just handed over the mission to people who never trained for it, never prepared for it, and don’t understand it.

That’s not leadership.That’s emotional surrender.

The Reality of Big Games: Everyone Becomes an Expert

When the lights come on, suddenly every fan, reporter, and social media account becomes an authority on officiating mechanics, advantage/disadvantage, and rules philosophy.

They clip one play with no context and narrate it as if they were inside the crew’s communication loop.

They’ll declare certainty when all they have is emotion.

And the truth is — emotion always wins on social media.

We reviewed combat footage frame by frame.We trained for contingencies.We broke down errors ruthlessly.

But we did it inside a disciplined environment.

Not in a public forum fueled by impulsive emotion.

Trying to explain a complex ruling to an angry crowd is like trying to give a tactical briefing to a mob.

They don’t want understanding.They want validation.

Never Engage the Enemy on Their Terrain

One of the core principles of military strategy:

Don't fight the enemy on terrain that gives them an advantage.

Social media is the perfect example.

It rewards outrage, exaggeration, and certainty — not logic, nuance, or humility.

You might be right. You might have handled the play correctly. You might even have rule support in black and white.

But the second you step into the comment section, the terrain shifts from professional discipline to emotional combat.

And the outcome becomes predictable:

You won’t win.
You won’t change minds.
You’ll only lose stature.

So the smarter play is simple:

Disengage. Not because you're weak — but because you're disciplined.

Victory is not always winning the argument.Sometimes, victory is not stepping onto the wrong battlefield.

The Hardest Lesson: Friendly Fire Happens

One of the most frustrating realities I’ve seen — in both war and officiating — is the damage caused by friendly fire.

It's almost never intentional. It's often emotional. And it can be devastating.

The officiating world has its own version:

Officials who insert themselves into public criticism. Officials who validate misinformation because of personal bias. Officials who pile on because it’s easy and socially safe.

They don’t just hurt the target — they hurt the profession.

And they forget this truth:

If you can tear someone down for a mistake, you better be prepared to be perfect when the spotlight hits you.

But here’s the thing:

The spotlight eventually hits everyone.

Keep that same energy when it’s your turn.

Leadership Principle: Mission Over Ego

In high-profile games, your mission is not to be perfect.

Your mission is to:

Manage the game
Apply the rules
Protect safety
Administer fairness
Maintain order
Uphold integrity

You are not there to win arguments. You are not there to convert civilians. You are not there to salvage reputation points.

Mission first. Ego last.

That is leadership.

Professional Discipline: The Difference Between Leaders and Civilians

In combat, you learn quickly:

Civilians panic.
Civilians react.
Civilians externalize blame.
Civilians obsess over perception.

Leaders don’t.

Leaders absorb pressure, not amplify it. Leaders own outcomes, not deflect them. Leaders respond with intention, not impulse.

When you officiate a high-profile game, the gym is full of civilians — even if they’re wearing polos and titles.

Your job is not to mirror their behavior.

Your job is to lead with composure whether you’re right, wrong, loved, or hated.

With Success Comes Resistance

My mentor told me something shortly before he passed:

“The moment you separate yourself in performance, they’ll come for you.”

Not because they hate you. Not because they’re right. But because your growth exposes their stagnation.

People don’t attack excellence because it threatens the game.

They attack excellence because it threatens identity.

And if you understand that, you become harder to bait, harder to shake, and harder to manipulate.

Eight Principles to Survive the Noise

Stay off social media after big games — your nervous system needs time to reset.
Don’t engage publicly with criticism, even when you’re right.
Review film with trusted mentors, not strangers online.
Protect your professional reputation through silence, not arguments.
Detach emotionally from the opinions of civilians.
Remember: Narrative is stronger than truth online.
Ignore the peanut gallery within the officiating community.
Lead by example — privately and publicly.