Whistling while he works

By Chris Duprey
Daily Sports Editor

He's telling you the truth when he says he can't hear what the crowd's saying. The noise just washes over him all at once - and there's no way to tell what the guy in the fourth row is saying about his eyesight or his so-called bias against one team.

It's game time. And for CCHA referee Steve Piotrowski, that means it's time to focus and block out the distractions. There's an important conference matchup on hand, where players from both sides care little about Piotrowski's issues with his job or his family - they just want the calls to go in their favor.

That's fine with Piotrowski, who does some of the toughest parts of his job before the puck drops. When he steps on that freshly-cleaned ice for the first time, his offseason conditioning, his continued study of the rulebook and his videotape self-a

NATHAN RUFFER/Daily CCHA referee Steve Piotrowski makes a call in this past Friday's contest between Michigan and Lake Superior. The 40-year old, who has called hockey games from peewee level to the World Junior Championships, remains as one of the conference's top officials.

nalysis are all assets in his back pocket.

He's prepared himself to work, and now he can deal with on-ice issues. And there are quite a few of those.

Although Piotrowski, 40, is one of the conference's top officials, well-respected all around the league, he's far from immune to the arguments with players and coaches that are commonplace in hockey.

"Each coach is unique, and I respect them for the intensity they bring to this game," Piotrowski said. "They all get worked up as we get worked up, but when the game is over, they just leave it between the boards and life goes on."

Animosity between players and referees is frequent also, which makes Piotrowski's decision to referee even more unusual. His first love was playing hockey, not officiating it, and as a youngster his skill level advanced enough to win a roster spot at Ferris State from 1977-79.

But when his eligibility expired, Piotrowski had a choice to make. Jumping to the professional ranks was a possibility, but also a longshot. So he traded in his jersey for a black-and-white striped shirt.

"After college, I didn't feel the direction of my play would take me to another level," Piotrowski said. "I said, 'Well, I can't play anymore. I don't want to coach. The next best thing is to officiate.'

"At that time, there was a push from the NCAA and from the league to try and get (former) college players involved, so that's how I got started."

Piotrowski certainly had the experience necessary for the job. It was at the young age of 13 when he first grabbed a whistle, officiating mite and peewee games at the local ice arena to pick up some extra cash. And although he was still three years away from being able to drive to the games by himself, he found a way to make it to work.

"My mom would drop me off at the rink, and I'd do three games," Piotrowski said. "She'd pick me up and I'd say, 'Yeah, I've got some cash!'"

He continued officiating through his teenage years, and then with the CCHA. Even as a collegiate official, Piotrowski found his way onto the world stage, working one of the most controversial games in hockey history at the 1989 World Junior Championships in Anchorage, Alaska.

Russia and Sweden were fighting for position in round-robin play, and Piotrowski was wearing the orange cuffs for the international clash.

A win was vital for Sweden, because a tie or a loss wouldn't give it enough points to qualify for medal-round action. The Russians had already clinched a berth in the semifinals, but relished the opportunity to ruin the outlook for their rival Sweden.

Both countries fielded strong teams in the tournament, with future NHL star Sergei Fedorov donning the Russian jersey, and Mats Sundin suiting up for the Swedes. As expected, it was a close contest throughout, with the score tied well into the third period.

With the play intense on both ends of the ice, a scuffle ensued, and Piotrowski sent players from both sides to serve penalties, including Fedorov. Fedorov, wanting a memoir from the championships, slipped a tournament-logo puck into his pants, planning to remove it from his drawers after skating back to the Russian bench.

"The whole time, the Soviets were really interested in souvenirs, because they didn't have a lot," Piotrowski said. "I don't know how many times I was approached to sell my jeans."

But when the penalties ended, Fedorov was forced to join the play. The puck was flipped into the corner, and Russia's goaltender left the net to play it.

Meanwhile, in front of the net, Fedorov got jostled around, and his spare puck came loose in front of the vacated Russian net. The Swedes slammed the second puck home and claimed what would have been the game-winning goal.

Piotrowski immediately conferred with his linesmen, one of which barely spoke enough English to communicate. While none of them saw how the second puck entered the play, they knew that the first puck was not the one that went in the net. That was all the information they needed to make their decision.

"I disallowed the goal, and we had a major international incident" because the game ended in a tie and Sweden was eliminated, Piotrowski said. "The Swedish coach kept running across the ice (to argue), so I had to throw him out of the game. As soon as I got to the door (after the game), the international officials sequestered me to make sure I didn't talk to anybody."

Around the same time as the championships, the NHL offered Piotrowski a chance to move onto the professional scene. But he turned it down and remained in the CCHA, right where he is now, asserting that he didn't want refereeing to become the primary focus of his life.

"It wasn't a good situation for me, being gone 18-20 days in a row," Piotrowski said. "NHL stands for No Home Life."

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02-12-99