Tmajic knows the story. I told it over on the refs forum and he chimed in. It got old. I said I was wrong and a couple of the refs kept saying "You were wrong!" and I would say, "I know" and go on to talk about why it happened, what all parties involved could have done differently, but the refs would say "But you were wrong!" ad nauseum.
OK - here it is again. I arrive late and the game is Hiland vs. Digital Harbor (Baltimore - think a bigger, more athletic version of Africentric) in an auxillary gym with very limited seating. I dropped the others off at the door. In my haste to get to see the start, I forgot to leave my sunglasses in the van, so I put them up on my ball cap. I got inside and the only place for me was to stand under the basket and lean up against the wall about 4-5 feet from the endline.
The game was an up and down affair, very intense, and very physical. One of the refs was 5'8" and weighed about 290 - and he was really struggling. Several times the action was down under the basket and he was just crossing half court. He was getting a lot of heat from the Digital Harbor coach and fans. The DH players were questioning him constantly. Coach Schlabach gave him a couple of funny looks and questioned how he saw what he called. The man was clearly frustrated.
At that point, I hadn't made a peep and didn't intend to. The game got into the 2nd qtr and there was a play where a Lady Hawk had a chance to grab a ball on the baseline but she fumbled it out of bounds. I nodded my head, like when you are thinking "Dadgone it". My sunglasses fell off my cap, clacked on the floor, and slid about a foot onto the playing surface. It took me a second to realize they were my glasses, but I reached and bent over to get them, and the ref kicked them out of my hand just as I got to them. They slid maybe 20 ft up the court. I'll admit that my first thought was to knock the brown out of him, but my second thought prevailed - which was to explain and apologize. This fine man had obviously misunderstood what happened. He thought I had intentionally thrown the glasses out there. As I went to retrieve my glasses, he shadowed me. I began to tell him how sorry I was, but that it was an accident and I would make sure it didn't happen again. He interrupted me and said, "Yeah, yeah. Just keep your damn stuff off my court." That stoked my hillbilly ire, but I kept my mouth shut and returned to my place.
I thought it was over, but this guy goes under the basket, holds the ball, and stares me down for about 15 seconds. I stared back, but finally said, "You're an (slang for the extreme lower end of the GI tract)" At that point, he blew his whistle and threw me out. I knew as soon as I said it that I was gone, and I was OK with it. He baited me, I bit, and I had to pay the price.
So I go to walk out and the tournament director grabs me by the shoulder and says, "You aren't going anywhere. I saw the whole thing. I saw you nod your head and lose your glasses. I saw him kick them out of your hands. I saw you try to apologize and explain. I heard what he said to you. I saw him stare you down. He was way out of line. We are going back in there and you can stand beside me and watch the game." So I did.
The game went on a couple more minutes and suddenly the ref sees me standing there, stops the game, and throws me out again (so technically, I've been thrown out of a game twice). The tourny director went out and argued with him, but the ref insisted. At that point I figured I had been enough of a distraction to what was turning out to be an outstanding game, so I just went out. I stopped on the sidewalk and reasoned it out: he was wrong, but I couldn't justify acting like that; I should have been the bigger man; I decided to apologize to the ref after. I walked to an open door on the other end, and watched the rest of the game from out there.
Regulation ended in a tie. The ref couldn't see me in the doorway because of sun glare. Before OT, the ref stood on my end about 20 feet away. The director came over and started talking to him again about his behavior. To defend himself, the ref told the director that it was not an accident, but that he had seen me throw my glasses on the floor. At that point I stepped out of the glare and burned a hole through him until he made eye contact with me, at which point I said, "You are a liar!" He walked to the other end.
When the game was over, he beat cheeks out of there to his car and drove away.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.