once upon a time there was a basketball referee(let's call him Jack) Jack came from a land where basketball bordered on religion. In the land Jack came from there were always heated rivalries and each team did their best to win (they practiced hard, didn't let attitude get in the way, listened to their sage-like coach, and most importantly of all, never listened to what parents had to say). In this enviroment Jack saw his share of ugly, brutal basketball games, but there were other lands where basketball is not understood as well. Anyhow, Jack played basketball or was at least around it for better than 20 years. With this amount of exposure to the game Jack thought that he knew his stuff when it came to hoops. However, one day there was an urgent message from a far away land proclaiming that there was a need to referees with teaching degrees. Jack, always one to answer a distress call immediately headed to that besieged country to try and instill some order to thier wild and unruly games.
to begin with Jack thought he did a good job of keeping order and there was some validation to his thinking because of the feedback he got from this supervisor and even the fans. one evening though, Jack was called right into the flames of hell to officiate a jr. high girls game. the first game went well and jack and his noble fellow official escaped unscathed. the second game however was another matter. Jack and Jill fought valiantly to preserve order and call everything fairly (even though have you ever seen a girl jr. high game? if Jack'd called everything he'd still be there), but this game was especially heated and played against a school who obviously doesn't extoll the values of proper dental hygiene. at any rate this game was among the sloppiest Jack had ever seen (and Jack was a member of the Wes Cross fan club). However, Jack and Jill maintained relative order and no one was hurt.
at the conclusion of the game however an irrate parent stumbled from the crowd, obviously wasted(oh yeah and remember what I said about dental hygiene?) and proceeded to make a threat on Jack's life. Well Jack's cool head prevailed and Jack reached down into his sock and brought out that shiv made from paper clips and scotch tape and shanked the motherfucker and left him bleeding right there on the floor.
at this point the other fans, who had been drinking together in the stands rushed the floor and Jack was overcome and tortured to death by way of a car battery and 7 ice cubes.
To this day a monument to Jack's memory still stands outside that gym and students on thier way to a big exam touch Jack's bronze-encased whistle for luck.

*written in loving memory of Jack Johansen beloved teacher, devoted father, loving husband, kick-ass referee.

Today in class my kids got a lesson in peer-pressure and bullying at the hands of our school phychologist. The whole time he was talking all i could think of was how useful these classes could have been for me in my youth. I know that i could have benefited from these classes in the rough, aggressive, kill-or-be-killed environment that was and remains U**** Elementary School where "i'm gonna slit your throat because your the reason he won't go out with me" or "get off our football field bitches before i bust a cap in your ass" are regular lingo. Heaven only knows that Mr. Randall and Mrs. Moore deserved hazard pay. However there is only one incident that is permanently embedded in my memory.
One day some kids were playing a football game in the parking lot which was tough because of all the burned out cars and broken liquor bottles, but the lines proved to be just about 5 yards apart so that was the best place to could manage. Anyhow, it was late in the game and Team Jones was down 6 but in the red zone and getting ready to score. With time running out, Matt "the punisher" S****** aired out a long bomb to Blake "i've got the moves of a jungle cat" M*******. With M*******'s NFL like skills, naturally he caught the pass in the end zone for a score tying the game. In a deft repeat of the same play S****** and M****** hooked up again for the extra point, thereby winning the game. Feeling insulted and suffering from Napoleon complex one of the safetys from Team Smith got into M*******'s face and started to bully on the typically demure future pro-bowler. The comments that were hurtled at the poor boy prompted him to reach into his sock and pull out not a Sharpie, but a shiv he'd made in class with Scotch tape and paper clips. Feeling the peer-pressure from his on-looking teammates, all thirsty for blood, M******* proceeded to shank the defender and leave the motherfucker bleeding in the endzone. Team Jones then broke into celebration by craking open a bottle of HotDamn. When officers arrived to investigate there was little talk of the shanking but an on-looker of the game stepped forward pointed to Matt "the punisher" and mumbled..."Uh...he's got a gun."
Now I've got to believe that if I'd had this kind of training this whole mess could have been avoided.

Disclaimer: We "the authors" of this blog would like to assert that this post is what is commonly known as a satire. We feel that there is actually quite a lot of merit to character education and simply saw an interesting opening for an entertaining story.