So, let's say that you've got a team of eight players. You play good basketball and enjoy each other. You've got a game coming up on Sunday and you're all looking forward to it. Then, one guy rolls his ankle playing with the knuckleheads at L.A. Fitness and decides to take Sunday off to heal up. "That's okay," he thinks, "they'll still have seven." Unbeknownst to him, another guy is going out of town for the weekend, figuring that his team won't miss one player. A third guy has decided to use the weekend to put up that pergola in the backyard. And yet another guy has been told in no uncertain terms by his wife/girlfriend that they're going to go see a movie and then go out to dinner on Sunday. (It would be really bad if his wife AND girlfriend had made that demand.) Suddenly, you're down to four players and it's a forfeit. That tends to happen more often during the summer, but it can strike any team at any time.
It also hits the refs and it drives me absolutely crazy. With the passage of time, the League has grown and I have cut back on officiating. When the League began, the only refs were Brian Peabody (who is now the Pima College men's basketball coach), Skippy (for whom the third court is named and who still refs occasionally), a former member of the University of Arizona women's basketball team named Leslie Martin, and myself. Over the years, there have been multiple occasions when I reffed 12 straight games. I don't want to think about that. I'm pretty sure than none of the people who played in those games want to think about them, either. As we have brought on other refs, some of have worked out and some haven't. (More on that some other time.)
We now have a roster of 15 refs and I'm happy with almost all of them. However, last Sunday, a stunning SIX of them called out. Three of them said that they have family stuff to do. A fourth went out of town to visit a friend. A fifth guy hadn't been scheduled the previous week and I told him that I would give him a shift on Sunday. When I texted him, he responded, "Oh Man, I'm in San Diego!" The sixth guy's excuse was so lame, Jesus wouldn't be able to heal it.
When I was a young person, one of my college coaches used that old line that goes, "Ninety percent of life is just showing up." I used to think that was simplistic, but I don't think that anymore. One of the aforementioned six was incredulous that I was unhappy with his absence. He said, "You know I'm good. This is only the second time THIS SEASON (my caps) that I've missed." When I told him that in 38 years (and more than 1,600 Sundays), I have never missed one day for any reason, he said, "Yeah, but..."