http://thelab.bleacherreport.com/regrets-he-s-had-a-few-joey-crawford-
looks-back/
Very interesting and entertaining.
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Regrets, He's Had a Few: Joey Crawford Looks Back
by Howard Beck
May 18, 2016
When great players retire, we take a group dive into the nostalgia
pool. We
relive favorite plays and rank their greatest shots, passes and dunks.
It's
a little different when a legendary NBA referee steps away.
The best refs would rather not be noticed at all. Because being
noticed
often means something has gone awry—a blown call, an argument,
controversy.
The best refs would prefer to blend into the scenery.
And yes, that axiom applies equally to Joey Crawford, contrary to
popular
perception.
“A lot of people think, ‘Crawford's the show,’” the recently retired
ref
says, using a nasally tone to deride that common refrain. “That is
far
from what I want to do out there.”
For nearly four decades, Crawford enforced order on NBA courts,
combining
old-school authority with a flamboyant spirit. He stood out for his
excellence—no one has called more NBA playoff games —but also his
expressiveness.
Those arm-punch foul calls. The exuberant technicals. That bulldog
scowl.
No one called a game with as much gusto as Crawford. No ref has been
the
subject of more YouTube videos, both humorous and biting. Right, wrong
or
otherwise, he was never going to blend in, as much as he might have
wanted
to.
Crawford announced his retirement in March, after 39 seasons and 2,561
regular-season games—the second most of any referee in league history.
He
will work some shifts at the NBA's replay center, but he has shelved
the
whistle, along with the snug gray jerseys, the roll-aboard suitcase
and the
stack of platinum mileage cards.
Crawford recently sat down with Bleacher Report to reflect on his
distinctive career. He delivered, naturally, with colorful candor. We
talked
about those YouTube clips (he loves them), the players he liked, the
coaches he dreaded, the best fan taunts, the calls he wants back,
travel
nightmares, celebrity sightings and what it's like to call a “T.”
Crawford became an NBA official in 1977, at age 26, after working in
the
Continental Basketball Association. By his fifth year, he was working
the
playoffs, and by his ninth year, the NBA Finals—the mark of an elite
official. He retired having officiated 374 playoff games, the most of
any
referee in NBA history, and 50 Finals games, ranking him second. He
describes his rise as a mix of exhilaration and anxiety.
CRAWFORD: You're trying to make it, you're trying to get through, you
really
don't know what's happening. The games are above you. Back then, it
was a
two-man system, and the older guys were getting you through the games.
You
didn't really know that they were getting you through the games.
And then you start to feel a little good about yourself. Some of the
veterans are saying, “You know, you're not really doing a bad job.”
But
they would never out-and-out say you were a good ref. You were just
looking
for [Darell] Garretson and [Earl] Strom and those guys to like you.
You
wanted their approval. You didn't get it much, but that's what you
wanted.
You didn't get TV games. But if you got a TV game, then you were doing
OK. I
think my first one was Milwaukee-Boston, with Darell Garretson. And
there
was an elbow foul—I'll never forget it for some reason. Harvey
Catchings
comes to mind; I think it was him. That was like my coming-out party:
You
got a TV game.
It was hard to get into the playoffs. When they called and told you
you were
in the playoffs, you went, “Wow.” I worked with Hubert Evans, and he
got
me through those two games. I was scared to death. But you hid it. You
hid
it from everyone, including your partner.
Now it's your 39th year, and everything is like, I never relaxed. I
couldn't
relax. I had to get better. And it really bothers me that I just
couldn't
relax with my kids. It was just like basketball refereeing was like
resonating in your head all the time.
I remember Doug Collins making a statement about he's always felt
guilty
about being out with his wife and his kids, and plays were going
through his
head. And that's what happens when you ref, you know? It's weird.
In the last 25 years, there have been four Game 7s in the Finals—and
Crawford worked three of them. He has officiated some of the greatest
players to grace the court—from Dr. J to Magic and Bird, Jordan and
Malone,
Shaq and Kobe, LeBron and Wade and Curry. He cherished the Game 7s
—“the
pinnacle of what you do”—and listed his first playoff games as his
most
memorable. But when pressed for favorite moments—A 60-point game? A
Jordan
masterpiece?—Crawford demurs.
CRAWFORD: That's one of your regrets, is that you don't get to enjoy
that
stuff. Because you're trying to get the plays right. I had the game
with Ray
Allen, Game 6 [of the 2013 Finals], where they say that's the
greatest. And
I think I have the game where Kenny Smith hits the seven threes [Game
1 of
the 1995 Finals]. And then I have the game where Reggie Miller scores
the
points against the Knicks [eight points in nine seconds, in Game 1 of
the
1995 Eastern Conference Semifinals]. And then Reggie, years later, he
says,
“Did you think I committed an offensive foul on the push-off?” I said,
“
If I did, I would have called it!”
That's the unfortunate thing about my job: When I look back on it and
all
these games that I've done, I really don't know if I've actually
enjoyed the
moment.
The three of you are leaving the arena going, “Damn, why did I do
that?”
Or, “How could we have handled that better?”
Over the years, Crawford has matched wits with Pat Riley, Larry Brown,
Jerry
Sloan, Lenny Wilkens, Phil Jackson, Gregg Popovich and Doc Rivers.
Notorious for his quick temper—and his propensity for doling out
technical
fouls—Crawford nevertheless speaks fondly of the coaches he once
tussled
with. And there was more to some of those ejections than the viewer
could
know.
CRAWFORD: Johnny Bach was the coach at Golden State. He asked me one
night,
he said, “Joe, throw me out.” His team wasn't doing good. I said,
“John,
I'm going to have to put it on the report that you asked to be thrown
out.”
He says, “I don't care, just throw me out.” I said, “You want to go
on
one tech or two?” So I just hit him and threw him. And he goes, “All
right
,” and he walked out. I guess he wanted to get his team going or
whatever.
It was the only time that happened to me. John and I years later, as
he was
an assistant for a lot of years, we used to laugh about it.
When I was earlier in my career, these guys didn't know who I was.
Most
coaches, when they don't know you, they think you suck, you know? And
in a
lot of cases, they were right back then—I did suck. A guy like Bill
Fitch
was relentless. And no matter what I did, if I hit him with a T, the
next
game he would come at me. And I had no idea how to deal with that. I
really
didn't. I would ask the veterans, “What do I do?” They said, “Keep
doing
it. It'll stop one of these days.”
“YOU WANT TO GO ON ONE TECH OR TWO?”-- JOEY CRAWFORD
I used to throw Dick Motta. He was just one of those guys who went
after
young referees. And I was always told by the older guys, “Keep
throwing him
, because then he'll stop.” I guess we just didn't mesh. But that
wasn't
unusual.
Hubie Brown one night. We were in Cleveland. And I throw him on the
way to
the locker room. He was annihilating me. I said, “Hubie, stay in the
locker
room, you're done! You're done! Stay in there.” We had a guy who used
to
take care of our locker room. And the poor guy, he knocks on the door.
He
said, “Hubie's out here; he wants to fight you.” And I went, “I'm not
coming out!” Because he could have kicked my ass. Hubie and I laugh
about
that to this day when we see one another.
About those technical fouls: Yes, Crawford has called a lot of them.
How
many is unclear (the NBA says it does not keep such records). As
personable
as Crawford is off the court, he was known for a short temper and a
quick
trigger on the court. He called T's with a certain zest. But that
doesn't
mean he enjoyed it.
CRAWFORD: It's not fun. You're really trying to avoid it. Sometimes
you just
have to. And...there are some times you overreact. I am always very
impressed with the people who can get through the moment without a T
or
raising their voice. Duke (Mike) Callahan probably does it better than
anybody, and nobody ever talks about Duke. Duke goes to the Finals
every
year, and he just stays real calm, never bothers anyone. Just calls
the
plays. And I admire that so much, that he can do that and not get
crazy, or
get rattled. Maybe that's the word, rattled. And sometimes, I would
get
rattled.
Duke and I are best friends, and we talk about it a lot. We've had
some set-
tos. And Duke will say to me, “I am not Joey Crawford!” Because
sometimes
you want the referee to be like you. And he's right. He's himself. And
he
does it better than I do.
The two lowest moments in Crawford's career have been well-documented:
the
night he ejected Tim Duncan for laughing, which resulted in a
suspension
from NBA Commissioner David Stern; and a tax-evasion charge in the
early
1990s. The Duncan incident pushed Crawford to seek anger-management
counseling that he says “changed my life.” The first warning signs
came
much earlier in his career.
CRAWFORD: Al Attles, when he was coaching Golden State, may have been
one of
the finest guys, very rarely got T's. I was on a streak where it was
bad. I
was in my third year. I was really struggling. I call a couple plays,
and I
'm not happy with the plays that I called. And now there's an out-of-
bounds
play, and the ball just shot at Al. And he grabbed the ball, and he
threw
the ball up. And I hit him with a T, and I threw him.
As I'm doing it, I'm saying to myself, “I don't know if I can do
this.” I
was disgusted with myself. I went into the locker room after the game,
and I
didn't even take my stuff off. I just put my hands on my head; I'll
never
forget it. That room was cold. I knew right then that I had to do
something
with my play-calling.
Referees exist to enforce rules. Conflict is unavoidable. It helps to
have a
sense of humor.
CRAWFORD: Jamal Crawford comes out of Michigan [in 2000]. He didn't
know who
I was. I mean, he was a kid, and he just got to the league. So I just
kept
calling him “Cuz” [playing off their shared last name]. “Hey, Cuz.”
And
he would look at me, out of the side of his face, like, “What the hell
is
this guy talking about?” Now he calls me Cuz.
So the interactions with the guys, it's not all insanity. People
always want
to know, “Who's the worst guy to deal with?” It's really not about
that.
You're building these relationships. And guys will come after you.
Sam Cassell, I loved him. One of my all-time favorite guys. And he's
pissed
off at me. And he's going back into the huddle. And I'm watching him.
And he
's cursing me as he's going in for the timeout. I mean, he's
annihilating me
. And I don't call a T. His back is to me. But I know he's
annihilating me.
So I'm saying to myself at the time, “Joe, don't deal with it, just
[let it
go].” I start walking toward the huddle, and [his teammate] is going,
“
Joey's coming, Sam. Joey's coming.” And Sam's going like this: “F--k
Joey
Crawford!” (Crawford is laughing as he repeats this.) I didn't laugh.
It
would be unprofessional. And I didn't even hit him with a T, honest to
God.
Those kinds of guys, I just got the biggest kick out of. Sam was one
of
those kids who didn't care what he said. He thought he was right—he
was
right.
John Salley might have been one of the best. He was at the All-Star
Game. I
think he was a union rep. I have my three daughters with me. We're
sitting
there with the kids—me and my wife and John—we were talking, laughing.
He
was telling me the ugliest guys in the league, and he mentions Tyrone
Hill.
We get back after the All-Star break. He's with Detroit, and I call a
loose-
ball foul on him. So John says to me, “You call another one of those
fouls
on me, I'm giving Tyrone Hill your daughter's phone numbers.” As I'm
giving
the [call to the official scorekeeper], I'm laughing. I had tears
coming to
my eyes.
PEOPLE ALWAYS WANT TO KNOW,“WHO'S THE WORST GUY TO DEAL WITH?” IT'S
REALLY
NOT ABOUT THAT. YOU'RE BUILDING THESE RELATIONSHIPS. AND GUYS WILL
COME
AFTER YOU. -- JOEY CRAWFORD
Verbal abuse from fans is a hazard of the job. Officials learn to
develop a
thick skin. But they hear everything.
CRAWFORD: There was a guy in New York; he's no longer there. He used
to sit
in the first row. As my hairline went, I'd get on the baseline, and
he'd
just go: “Flesh-colored yarmulke, Joe?” (Crawford cackles.) It was
just
getting bigger and bigger and bigger, my spot on my head, you know.
Very
creative, very creative.
Most of the people you get to know around that circle there, in the
first
few rows, they very rarely say anything to you. They become your
friends. I
mean, I got spit on a few times and had beer thrown on me. But that's
part
of what the profession is. It's not that big of a deal.
We were on a plane a few years ago. It was Duke Callahan, myself and
Mark
Wunderlich, and we were flying back to Philly. It was during the
Finals. And
my wife was with us. And I'm putting my [luggage] up, and here come
some
guys. They were Lakers fans, and they had Lakers shirts on. I guess
the
Lakers lost, because they were mad or something. I'm putting the bag
up, and
the kid looks at me, and he goes, “Crawford, right?” I said, “Yeah.”
He
goes, “You sucked last night.” And I went, “Oh yeah?” I said, “You
know, I get paid to take that crap on that floor, but I don't get paid
right
here. So take your crap and just keep walking back there.”
You'll get the guy who, he's sitting there, and he's talking to his
friend
on his cellphone. I'm at Starbucks, and he positions himself right
next to
me. I don't know whether anybody's on the other line or not, but he
said, “
Yeah, yeah, yeah, the assh--e's sitting right next to me.” (Crawford
laughs
.) I'm getting a big kick out of it, you know? And I went, “Tell your
buddy
that the assh--e's going down to the gate.”
But most of the people who are in airports and hotels are very
respectful.
They may hate your guts, they may say all kinds of stuff—as soon as I
get
off the plane in San Antonio, people are hollering at me, and I expect
it—
but a lot of it's in really good fun.
They just want to talk about the game. That's the key. Where would we
be
without these people? Where would we be?
Referees are not easily star-struck. NBA stars, after all, are some of
the
biggest celebrities on the planet. But it's different when Jack
Nicholson
says hello.
CRAWFORD: Jack Nicholson. He was my all-time favorite. I remember Easy
Rider
; I think it was in '69. Now I get into the NBA, eight years later,
and he's
sitting courtside [at the L.A. Forum], where he always sits. And I'm
looking at him, and I'm saying, “Eh, I'm not going to say anything.”
Then
it's like three or four years I'm in the league. I take my warm-ups
off, and
I put them down. I look at him, and I said, “Hey, Jack, how you
doing?”
And he went, “Hey, Joe.” And I went to myself, “Jack Nicholson knows
who
I am.” I got back to the hotel and called my wife. I didn't care if it
was
2 in the morning. I called her, and I said, “Jack Nicholson knows who
I am!
” She goes, “So what.” She hung up and went right back to sleep.
And there was Justin Timberlake. He's sitting courtside [in Memphis],
and I
don't like to bother these people. They're bothered all the time. I'm
walking off the floor, and he's standing right there. And he says,
“Hey,
Joe, how you doing?” I told my kids that, and they went, “No way.” I
wish
I had my camera then. I would have been able to take a shot.
Today's NBA referees seem almost interchangeable—the league wants
uniformity. Crawford came up in an era when individuality was
embraced, and
referees developed their own styles. Crawford was distinctive. That
arm-
punch foul call that resembles a called strike? It came from all the
time he
spent around his father, former major league umpire Shag Crawford.
That
quirky gait—quick steps, arms up like a boxer? That came from former
referee Sid Borgia.
CRAWFORD: There was a lot of things where I was trying to emulate my
father
without doing baseball. Yeah, the strike, calling the strike and
calling
that offensive foul.
People say to me all the time that they know me because of my run. Sid
Borgia, who was a referee for a number of years in the ABA and the
NBA. And
he would say to me, “Move like a boxer, move like a boxer.” Your arms
up,
and move, move, move, move, move, move. So my run was almost like that
boxer
thing.
I watched umpires growing up, and I watched their mannerisms. You
could tell
a guy as soon as he walked on the field. I used to watch Mendy
[Rudolph]
and all those [NBA referees] too, Eddie Rush and John Vanick and Joe
Gushue,
who were working in the NBA then, and I would try to emulate them
also.
Mendy used to get his two thumbs and put them on his forehead, and
he'd
fling his sweat. I used to watch that all the time. I said, “Man, this
guy'
s got style.” Fans were watching Wilt and Russell, and I was watching
them.
Joey Crawford's style—lauded by some, loathed by others—has made him
an
unlikely YouTube star. All of his quirkiest moments are there, along
with
endless compilations of his (alleged) worst calls. He was even
parodied by
Brandon Armstrong, whose hilarious, spot-on impressions of NBA players
made
him an Internet legend. Crawford's daughters told him about that one.
“It
was hysterical,” Crawford says of Armstrong's imitation. “I made a
fool
out of myself numerous times. It's right out there.”
We asked Crawford for the backstory on some of his most infamous
moments—
the Duhon dance, the sniper fall and the time he dragged Scottie
Pippen off
the court—as well as perhaps his scariest moment, when he had to prop
up a
concussed Big Baby Davis.
CRAWFORD: I got surprised by the play. I really did. I guessed on it,
and I
guessed wrong. But I said, “Well, while I'm here calling this block, I
might as well just really do it.” So I just go ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-
boom,
ba-boom, as I'm skipping out toward the free-throw line. And I got the
play
wrong. And then the next day, Bob Delaney [an officiating supervisor]
called
and said, “Joe, don't do that.” I said, “You're right, Bob.” I kicked
the hell out of the play and just overreacted and tried to sell it. It
was
awful. Never should have did it.
CRAWFORD: I don't even remember the play. I think he fell, and I was
trying
to get him out of the lane, so they wouldn't run him over. Scottie was
down
there, and play was going on, and we're always taught: You don't stop
play.
In college games, they stop it; I wish we could. So I must have just
pulled
him out of the lane so he didn't get trampled.
CRAWFORD: My knee gave out. And I just fell. Honest to God, the knee
gave,
and I go down. I'm laying on the floor, and it was hysterical when you
look
back. I watched it. Steve Clifford's the coach of Charlotte, and he
just
looks down at me like, “Get up, will you?” It was funny. But then
somebody
on YouTube had it where it's the sniper, he's there and—boom!—he
shoots,
and boom, down I go. It was pretty cool.
The actual cause was a knee injury that would eventually force
Crawford into
retirement.
It was part of the problem. I fell five times last season, so I knew I
was
at the end. As I was going, that thing would just give out.
CRAWFORD: Big Baby [Glen Davis] was with Boston, and I think they were
in
Orlando. He was rebounding the ball, and the guy came down on the top
of his
head and hit him. And he goes down. And I'm looking, and I'm going,
“Oh,
this isn't good.” He got up, and he was trying to run down the court,
and
he was bobbing and weaving. I just literally ran at him, because he
was gone
. He was gone. He was going to hit his head, and I just kept running,
and I
just tried to keep him up and just hit him, like I was trying to
tackle him,
to keep him up. I mean, this guy's strong. And I'm screaming at
Rasheed [
Wallace], “Rasheed! Help me! I can't keep him up!” So then he came
over
and got him. Big Baby and I used to laugh about it. I would say, “I
saved
your life.” It was very scary.
Like George Clooney in Up in the Air, referees spend much of their
year on
the road, living out of suitcases and racking up rewards points.
Occasionally, there are surprising perks—like the time a USAir pilot,
a
friend of Crawford's, invited him to ride in the cockpit on a flight
from
Philadelphia to Cleveland. “That may have been the best single moment
I had
in the profession, travel-wise.” And then there was the time he got
stuck
in the Philippines in the middle of a failed government coup. Crawford
had
traveled there to officiate an exhibition game featuring NBA players,
including Adrian Dantley, Tom Chambers and Mark Eaton. The game never
happened.
CRAWFORD: We land, 3 o'clock in the morning. [Referee] Bennett
Salvatore is
on the tour with me. He calls my room. “Joe, turn the TV on.” I turn
the
TV on; they had the machine guns. They took over the TV station. We
were
scared to death. And then everybody got sick. The guys, all the
players were
throwing up.
⚡Lightning Round⚡
Give me one word to describe…
Tim Duncan. Excuses.
David Stern. Friend.
Gregg Popovich. Different.
Rasheed Wallace. Smart.
Gary Payton. Loud.
Michael Jordan. Incredible.
Kobe Bryant. Tenacious.
Shaquille O'Neal. Strong.
Pat Riley. Warrior.
Mark Cuban. Smart-ter.
Doc Rivers. Engaging.
Phil Jackson Remembered.
The most polite player you ever dealt with? Bobby Jones.
Biggest complainers? Payton, [Allen] Iverson.
Former NBA city you miss the most? Seattle.
Current NBA city you'll miss in retirement? Milwaukee.
Favorite restaurant on the road? The Calderone Club in Milwaukee.
Best arena? Indianapolis.
Worst arena? Philly.
Arena you'll miss the most? Phoenix.
How many miles have you flown? Gotta be 6 million, 5 million. I think
I've
got 4 million just on American.
Howard Beck covers the NBA for Bleacher Report and is a co-host of NBA
Sunday Tip, 11am-1pm ET, on SiriusXM Bleacher Report radio. Follow him
on
Twitter, @HowardBeck.
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