Array
(
)

What Officials Need to Know About Report Writing

By Tim Sloan

“Methinks he does protest too much.” That’s a classic line from Shakespeare that a lot of officiating leaders cite when it comes to the subject of coaching their membership on what or what not to include when writing incident reports.

We usually tell people, when relating a story on why they gave someone the boot, not to embellish it with irrelevant facts or emotions but simply say what happened and let the chips fall where they may. The standard retort is that when they do that, the perps get away with less than what they deserve because the disciplinary body can’t discern between lack of words and lack of a case.

On the other hand, if we coach them to state in ample detail the facts of the case, the disciplinary people interpret that as the official trying too hard to make it stick; hence, the Shakespearean quote.

Here’s the problem — or, at least, the beginning of it: Shakespeare never wrote those words. The actual quote, from Hamlet, was spoken by Queen Gertrude and reads, “The lady protests too much, methinks.” Over the centuries, the wording has been twisted around, conveying much the same sentiment to mean that someone who tries too hard to make a point may have an ulterior motive.

Twisting words may have worked for Shakespeare but it doesn’t work for officials. In the refereeing business these days, that usually is taken to be a sign of some sort of vendetta or disingenuousness, whether that is the case or not. If I stood up in front of The Shakespeare Club at my college and stated the popularized quote, the people who knew the real quote would blow me off if I then tried to make any other point about the bard: Once they catch you out on a detail, where should they begin taking any of what you say seriously?

Association members can write whatever they want to describe a situation and their actions in a game report, but do they should do it as if the reader were hiding behind a tree, witnessing exactly the same event: If it didn’t happen, don’t include it. If it did happen, say how it happened. If something happened that might not make the writer look good, include it anyway if it’s pertinent. If there was emotion involved, let someone else justify it; most people understand disciplinary incidents are seldom sterile, peaceful events. Let’s look at these points.

If it didn’t happen, don’t include it.

Fundamentally, that’s simple enough — don’t lie. Once an official is made out to be a prevaricator, he or she will never make dog catcher after that. But let’s adjust the scenario to something more likely. If the official has been working a soccer match, felt an object hit the back of his head and turned around to see only number 7 standing there, he doesn’t have to pussyfoot: OK, he doesn’t know for a fact number 7 hit him, but the description in the report can lead circumstantially to, “Who else could it have been?” That’s OK to say, but some officials wrongly believe they have to produce the bullet and not the smoking gun, as it were.

If it did happen, say how it happened.

Context is everything. I like to tell the story of another soccer referee I worked with who sent off a captain for saying, “It’s a f***ing beautiful day today, isn’t it?” at the coin toss. The incident report said, “Number 7 was sent off before the match started for directing a profanity at me.” OK, the fellow was from a culture where swearing was never justified, so we can see his side. But the reader of the report has to understand the situation before making a judgment, and will do one of two things in a case like that: Investigate what he or she’s reading, if something doesn’t seem to add up, or reject the report if it seems unlikely. It’s possible to write a report in enough detail so that the reader can make sense of it, without putting in so much detail that it crosses the line into hyperbole or renders the reader unconscious.

If something happened that might not make the writer look good, include it anyway if it’s pertinent.

I don’t think you ever want to write, “I was fighting the strike zone all afternoon, I admit, but I still felt I had to eject number 12 for asking if I was related to Stevie Wonder.” Most readers will get the drift from the second part of the sentence and understand that number 12 didn’t speak up merely because he was late for dinner. That’s never an excuse for what he said. On the flip side, if you’ve warned a manager or coach previously that you won’t stand for him whistling “I Just Called to Say I Love You” every time you call a borderline strike at the knees, it might take more than to just write, “I ejected number 12 for whistling.” If there’s a progressive situation, make sure the reader understands it, in order to illustrate the cause.

If there was emotion involved, let someone else justify it.

In court, a judge doesn’t have to like/dislike a defendant; merely assure that justice is done. If an official is getting a tough time from the visitors’ bench, most people understand it’s fairly common these days. I always have to a laugh when every catch/no catch call is responded to with, “I’m going to send the video to the state!” by the disenfranchised.

Like the judge, the report writer has to place him- or herself above the fray and let the facts speak for themselves. “I ejected the Tech head coach for a second unsportsmanlike conduct penalty,” is often all anyone needs to know. Leave them wondering what Coach didn’t understand after he got the first flag rather than why the official made him so mad as to get the second.

Most of all, advise report writers to clearly describe what rule was broken and by whom. No matter how eloquently that is accomplished, there will still be times when the report is rejected and we just have to move on. We should never advise our members to push the case but, if a league develops a pattern of not doing what’s right, we always have the option to stop working for them. Before it comes to that, you might consider it practical to offer to proofread reports before members submit them. That way, you can avoid nasty word choices — or worse — that help nobody with a striped shirt look good.

Stick with what happened rather than what you want to have happen and report writing will have many happy endings.

Tim Sloan, Davenport, Iowa, is a high school football, basketball and volleyball official, and a former college football and soccer official.

MEMBER LOGIN