Officiating High School Varsity Basketball: A Symphony of Chaos, Chants, and Life Lessons

If you’ve ever officiated a high school varsity basketball game, congratulations—you’ve survived one of the most unpredictable, loud, and high-stakes performances known to humankind. Forget Broadway, forget Netflix, forget that trending docuseries everyone’s obsessed with. You want drama? You want unscripted chaos? Step onto a basketball court with a whistle and try keeping order while a gym full of passionate (and, let’s be honest, occasionally unhinged) fans lose their minds.

And let me tell you, the fans—especially the student sections—are the real stars of the show. They’re loud, they’re creative, and they’re absolutely relentless. And as a referee, you’re their favorite target.

I’ve been officiating high school basketball for years, and I’ve heard it all. From the classic “You’re blind, ref!” to the more creative “Call it both ways!” (which, by the way, is a fan favorite because it’s vague enough to apply to literally any call or non-call), the fans never disappoint. But my all-time favorite chant? “Take his whistle!”

There’s something oddly poetic about an entire student section banding together in perfect harmony to demand your immediate termination. It’s like a choir auditioning for a halftime Broadway show, only their only lyric is “TAKE HIS WHISTLE!” And if they’re not chanting at you? Well, then you’re not doing your job right.

One of the funniest moments I’ve ever experienced happened during a game when the students started chanting, “Come on, Sarge!” For context, “Sarge” is my nickname in the officiating community. Having worked in that gym before, I knew the kind of energy they brought, and I was all for it. They really leaned into it. Every time I made a call—or didn’t—they’d erupt into a chorus of “Come on, Sarge!”

At one point, I called a foul, and the student section lost their collective minds, convinced they had personally Jedi-mind-tricked me into making the call. You could see the smug satisfaction on their faces—like they’d just won a Supreme Court case. Spoiler: they hadn’t. But hey, let them have their moment.

Now, I’ve been around long enough to know that this is all part of the game. I don’t take it personally, and I never let it affect my decision-making. But I’ve seen younger refs struggle with it.

They’ll hear the chants, feel the pressure, and start second-guessing themselves. That’s when things go sideways. If you’re a young ref reading this, let me give you some advice: don’t let the fans get in your head. They’re not there to cheer for you. They’re not there to be your friends. They’re there to support their team, and if that means ripping into you for 32 minutes straight, so be it. It’s not personal. It’s basketball.

So, to all the younger refs out there: welcome to the show. It’s going to be loud, it’s going to be chaotic, and it’s going to test your patience in ways you never thought possible. But it’s also going to be one of the most rewarding experiences of your life. You’ll learn to think on your feet, to stay calm under pressure, and to laugh at yourself when things don’t go as planned. And who knows? You might even earn a nickname or two along the way.

As for me, I’ll keep doing what I love: blowing my whistle, making the tough calls, and soaking in the glorious chaos of high school basketball. And if the students want to chant “Take his whistle!” well, I’ll take that as a compliment. After all, if they’re not chanting, I’m not doing my job.

Referee Survival Guide:

• Don’t take it personally. Fans aren’t mad at you—they’re mad at the uniform. You’re just the unfortunate soul wearing it.

• If they’re chanting at you, you’re relevant. It’s weirdly a badge of honor.

• Learn to laugh. If you can’t have fun out there, you’re in for a long season.

• Engage—just a little. A well-timed smirk or quick remark can turn rowdy students into your biggest fans.

• Let game management handle the real nonsense. Your job is to call the game, not tame the zoo.

  
  

Another tip: don’t be afraid to engage with the fans—within reason, of course. I’ve had games where, during a timeout, I’ve turned to the student section and said, “That chant is old. You guys need to come up with something better.” The look on their faces is priceless. They’re not used to refs talking back. But once they realize you’re not some emotionless robot in stripes, they’ll usually lighten up. I’ve even had students tell me after the game, “You’re cool, ref.” High praise from a group of teenagers who spent the last two hours yelling at me.

Of course, there are times when the chants cross the line. Every ref has a story about a game where the fans went too far. But here’s the thing: you’re not alone out there. If things get out of hand, the gym manager and school administrators are there to step in. It’s their job to maintain order, not yours. Your job is to officiate the game. So don’t be afraid to let them handle the crowd if necessary.

But for the most part, the chants and jeers are all in good fun. They’re part of what makes high school basketball so special. The energy, the passion, the sheer unpredictability of it all—it’s what keeps me coming back year after year. There’s nothing quite like walking into a packed gym on a Friday night, hearing the buzz of the crowd, and knowing that for the next couple of hours, you’re part of something bigger than yourself.

So here’s to the fans who heckle, the players who battle, and the referees who hold the whole circus together. We may not get the cheers, but we get the best seat in the house. And as long as that student section keeps chanting my name—lovingly or otherwise—I know I’m exactly where I belong.