The night in 1977 that I chased a referee off the field at South Stadium in Pittsburgh because of a horrible call against us in our battle with Duquesne — the only time I ever did so, but he deserved it
… and then we became friends
As a young boy, I was taught to respect authority, which included the nuns who taught me, along with adults who lived in our community and neighborhood, along with other children -- and everyone else.
This also included those who enforced the laws, like referees and umpires who arbitrated the rules in the games that I played. Since my father was a referee, and since I traveled with him on Saturdays in autumn to college football games throughout Pennsylvania, I learned how important it was to respect officials in football -- along with basketball and baseball.
And, in about a quarter-century of coaching football, I did that — though I did question calls from time to time. That included questioning some calls from a crew led by my brother. However, I was always respectful.
And, if my father knew how angry I became at South Stadium in Pittsburgh in 1977, he would have been angry with me.
Fortunately, I never told him this story. To the best of my recollection, no one else did either.
Background of the 1977 SFC-Duquesne game
The 1977 season was the last football campaign in which St. Francis University would compete without being sanctioned by the NCAA. In 1973, the NCAA had agreed to the breakdown of all competitors into three divisions: Div. I with athletic scholarship schools, Div. II with the option to offer scholarships, and Div. III which allowed no athletic scholarships.
Essentially, that is what the breakdown is today though Div. I football is split into FBS and FCS, which had been called I-AA in previous years.
Both St. Francis and Duquesne brought back football in 1969 after a hiatus. Since both offered scholarships to athletes to play basketball, the new football teams could not play under the auspices of the NCAA.
Therefore, they played as a member of the National Club Football Association (NCFA).
How good was Duquesne in 1977?
According to the Duquesne University website, the football team was one of the best in the national club rankings in 1976, when we defeated them in Portage, and in 1977, when we might have if not for this particular call that I will discuss.
The Duquesne records note that the school played club football from 1969-1978, when it became Div. III. Those numbers parallel those of St. Francis, which played NCAA Div. III for the first time in the fall of 1978, one year after the 1977 debacle with the Dukes.
In 1977, Duquesne “finished second the National Club Football Association national championship,” the records note. Thus, they were second in the final rankings of the NCFA after finishing fourth in 1976, the year in which the Red Flash prevailed, 26-16.
“The fictitious call” in 1977
I was an assistant coach to Art Martybuska for six years in the 70s, and we coaches felt that we had a great chance to beat Duquesne in 1977 because we had a good offense with a running back who became one of the best in St. Francis history. And we had a strong enough defense to hold off the productive Dukes offense.
That was the way that the game was playing out in the fourth quarter. Duquesne charged out to a lead, then we Red Flash tied it. The score was tied at 21-21 in the second half when the Dukes scored once again to take a 28-21 fourth-quarter lead.
Back charged the Red Flash. Our superb running back, sophomore Teddy Helsel, following a very solid offensive line, rushed for more than 200 yards in the game, if memory serves. Could have been as many as 250. South Stadium had artificial turf, and while Teddy was quick on any surface, he was even moreso on this fast track.
So, as we are moving down into the Red Zone for a TD to tie the score, which had been the story of the game, an infamous — and incorrect — call was made by the referee.
I am trying to recall these minute details after 42 years, so some may be sketchy. However, the bottom line of this remains very clear in my memory.
With about four or five minutes left in the game, we are going in for a score. No doubt.
On a running play, Helsel’s shoe was ripped off. He stopped and put it back on as quarterback Whitey McCabe huddled everyone together to call the play that we had sent in from upstairs.
The referee is not required to stop the clock and allow the player to put his shoe back on after the play. Apparently, some on our sideline were arguing that.
Father Jonas McCarthy and I, both assistant coaches, were standing at the top of the bleachers on the visitor’s side of South Stadium with some police phones that we used to call the plays down to the sideline.
I knew the rule, and so as soon as the referee gave the “ready for play” signal, which means that the team has 25 seconds to snap the ball without a penalty, I looked at the clock.
As Teddy lined up in the I-formation behind Whitey, I knew that we had enough time to avoid a penalty.
However, before the ball was snapped, the ref threw a flag for delay of game. I immediately glanced at the clock. He had given us just 21 seconds before he threw the flag, not 25. Even if I was off by a second or two, we still had time to get it off before the 25 seconds had elapsed.
I was outraged. That moved us back five yards, and we eventually missed the first down by less than that. It had cost us a chance to tie the game -- and conceivably win the game if we had been able to recover an onsides kick.
And Father Jonas, who believed that Duquesne cheated more than Bill Bellichick has in the 21st Century, was screaming at the officials during this segment of the game.
Chasing him off the field
The Dukes took over after he failed to make the first down and were able to run out the closand take the one-TD victory. That gave them a chance to compete for the NCFA title.
And I believed that we had been rooked by the ref. As the clock was running out, I sprinted down the steps of South Stadium to confront the referee, whose name was Gene Susi.
At first he said, “You don’t know the rule.”
I told him that I was not arguing that he should have stopped the clock and allowed Teddy to put his shoe, but that I was outraged that we had been given just 21 seconds instead of 25.
“You got your full 25,” he said indignantly as he sprinted off the field and into the officials’ room and I was continuing to make my case.
Eventually, the crew leader, an old rotund Irishman named John McCarthy came out and talked to me, insisting that Gene was a very honest guy and that I was mistaken.
Very politely, I said, “No way would I be mistaken about something this outrageous.”
Of course, no way was I going to win that argument.
The only time I did so — and the irony
While my father would have been upset with my chasing an official off the field, he would have agreed with me if he knew the whole story.
It was the only time that I had so vociferously disagreed with an official.
Now, you could argue that perhaps we should still have gotten the first down. However, second-and-12 is much different than second-and-7. It changed our entire approach and gave the Dukes some extra incentive.
The irony of this is that while this took place, I was also running the clock and scoreboard for the men’s and women’s basketball games. And guess who was one of the officials for St. Francis men’s basketball? Gene Susi.
He was a very good basketball official, and since I had to work closely with the officials as the clock-operator, I got to know him well and we became friendly. He certainly remembered me, and I remembered him.
However, I would prefer that he just did not look closely at the clock when he started his ready for play. I really do not think he was a cheat — though Father Jonas thought that everyone from Duquesne cheated. LOL
Anyway, that was my one and only chance to chase an official off the field.
I did, however, vociferously complain to my brother when he was referring our high school game about the incompetence of his crew.
That is another story for another day.
This also included those who enforced the laws, like referees and umpires who arbitrated the rules in the games that I played. Since my father was a referee, and since I traveled with him on Saturdays in autumn to college football games throughout Pennsylvania, I learned how important it was to respect officials in football -- along with basketball and baseball.
And, in about a quarter-century of coaching football, I did that — though I did question calls from time to time. That included questioning some calls from a crew led by my brother. However, I was always respectful.
And, if my father knew how angry I became at South Stadium in Pittsburgh in 1977, he would have been angry with me.
Fortunately, I never told him this story. To the best of my recollection, no one else did either.
Background of the 1977 SFC-Duquesne game
The 1977 season was the last football campaign in which St. Francis University would compete without being sanctioned by the NCAA. In 1973, the NCAA had agreed to the breakdown of all competitors into three divisions: Div. I with athletic scholarship schools, Div. II with the option to offer scholarships, and Div. III which allowed no athletic scholarships.
Essentially, that is what the breakdown is today though Div. I football is split into FBS and FCS, which had been called I-AA in previous years.
Both St. Francis and Duquesne brought back football in 1969 after a hiatus. Since both offered scholarships to athletes to play basketball, the new football teams could not play under the auspices of the NCAA.
Therefore, they played as a member of the National Club Football Association (NCFA).
How good was Duquesne in 1977?
According to the Duquesne University website, the football team was one of the best in the national club rankings in 1976, when we defeated them in Portage, and in 1977, when we might have if not for this particular call that I will discuss.
The Duquesne records note that the school played club football from 1969-1978, when it became Div. III. Those numbers parallel those of St. Francis, which played NCAA Div. III for the first time in the fall of 1978, one year after the 1977 debacle with the Dukes.
In 1977, Duquesne “finished second the National Club Football Association national championship,” the records note. Thus, they were second in the final rankings of the NCFA after finishing fourth in 1976, the year in which the Red Flash prevailed, 26-16.
“The fictitious call” in 1977
I was an assistant coach to Art Martybuska for six years in the 70s, and we coaches felt that we had a great chance to beat Duquesne in 1977 because we had a good offense with a running back who became one of the best in St. Francis history. And we had a strong enough defense to hold off the productive Dukes offense.
That was the way that the game was playing out in the fourth quarter. Duquesne charged out to a lead, then we Red Flash tied it. The score was tied at 21-21 in the second half when the Dukes scored once again to take a 28-21 fourth-quarter lead.
Back charged the Red Flash. Our superb running back, sophomore Teddy Helsel, following a very solid offensive line, rushed for more than 200 yards in the game, if memory serves. Could have been as many as 250. South Stadium had artificial turf, and while Teddy was quick on any surface, he was even moreso on this fast track.
So, as we are moving down into the Red Zone for a TD to tie the score, which had been the story of the game, an infamous — and incorrect — call was made by the referee.
I am trying to recall these minute details after 42 years, so some may be sketchy. However, the bottom line of this remains very clear in my memory.
With about four or five minutes left in the game, we are going in for a score. No doubt.
On a running play, Helsel’s shoe was ripped off. He stopped and put it back on as quarterback Whitey McCabe huddled everyone together to call the play that we had sent in from upstairs.
The referee is not required to stop the clock and allow the player to put his shoe back on after the play. Apparently, some on our sideline were arguing that.
Father Jonas McCarthy and I, both assistant coaches, were standing at the top of the bleachers on the visitor’s side of South Stadium with some police phones that we used to call the plays down to the sideline.
I knew the rule, and so as soon as the referee gave the “ready for play” signal, which means that the team has 25 seconds to snap the ball without a penalty, I looked at the clock.
As Teddy lined up in the I-formation behind Whitey, I knew that we had enough time to avoid a penalty.
However, before the ball was snapped, the ref threw a flag for delay of game. I immediately glanced at the clock. He had given us just 21 seconds before he threw the flag, not 25. Even if I was off by a second or two, we still had time to get it off before the 25 seconds had elapsed.
I was outraged. That moved us back five yards, and we eventually missed the first down by less than that. It had cost us a chance to tie the game -- and conceivably win the game if we had been able to recover an onsides kick.
And Father Jonas, who believed that Duquesne cheated more than Bill Bellichick has in the 21st Century, was screaming at the officials during this segment of the game.
Chasing him off the field
The Dukes took over after he failed to make the first down and were able to run out the closand take the one-TD victory. That gave them a chance to compete for the NCFA title.
And I believed that we had been rooked by the ref. As the clock was running out, I sprinted down the steps of South Stadium to confront the referee, whose name was Gene Susi.
At first he said, “You don’t know the rule.”
I told him that I was not arguing that he should have stopped the clock and allowed Teddy to put his shoe, but that I was outraged that we had been given just 21 seconds instead of 25.
“You got your full 25,” he said indignantly as he sprinted off the field and into the officials’ room and I was continuing to make my case.
Eventually, the crew leader, an old rotund Irishman named John McCarthy came out and talked to me, insisting that Gene was a very honest guy and that I was mistaken.
Very politely, I said, “No way would I be mistaken about something this outrageous.”
Of course, no way was I going to win that argument.
The only time I did so — and the irony
While my father would have been upset with my chasing an official off the field, he would have agreed with me if he knew the whole story.
It was the only time that I had so vociferously disagreed with an official.
Now, you could argue that perhaps we should still have gotten the first down. However, second-and-12 is much different than second-and-7. It changed our entire approach and gave the Dukes some extra incentive.
The irony of this is that while this took place, I was also running the clock and scoreboard for the men’s and women’s basketball games. And guess who was one of the officials for St. Francis men’s basketball? Gene Susi.
He was a very good basketball official, and since I had to work closely with the officials as the clock-operator, I got to know him well and we became friendly. He certainly remembered me, and I remembered him.
However, I would prefer that he just did not look closely at the clock when he started his ready for play. I really do not think he was a cheat — though Father Jonas thought that everyone from Duquesne cheated. LOL
Anyway, that was my one and only chance to chase an official off the field.
I did, however, vociferously complain to my brother when he was referring our high school game about the incompetence of his crew.
That is another story for another day.
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