Hello everybody. I guess, given the circumstances of the day, with most of us on some sort of restriction and the fact I have no job right now, I've had a story or two floating around in my head. I know some of you want to see a sequel to Chuck vs Jen Burton: Spy Girl, but that's a big project that I'm still trying to figure out.
This story was considerably influenced by David Carner. In fact, I asked him about it first because I didn't want to look like I was stealing his material. Given this is the first story I've ever written where Chuck and Sarah aren't spies, I am in very new territory. I don't know what the result will be; I fear I may not even finish it. But I wanted to give it a shot, using some of my past experience as a football official (high school, not the pros) to come up with a completely new idea for our favorite couple.
So a big thanks to David Carner (or a big apology if this story sucks). I hope everybody reads it, likes it, and can stop by the Chuck Fanfiction site on Facebook.
Enjoy and please leave reviews! Thanks!
Tulane Medical Center – New Orleans, LA
January 27th
10:15 PM CST
The crew, minus John Casey, milled around the waiting room in the ER, hoping for news…any news…about their crew chief. Some of them talked quietly among themselves, others took a glance at the TV, which was showing ESPN, while they sipped on some coffee.
One of them sat in a chair with his face buried in his hands and hadn't stopped shaking since they got there.
"Chuck," Bryce Larkin said softly, putting a reassuring hand on Chuck's shoulder. "Come on, man. This is not your fault. None of this is."
Chuck Bartowski lifted his face briefly, and the tears were evident. He glanced at the TV, which was on mute. But the closed-captioning made it perfectly clear what the talking heads on ESPN were discussing. And they weren't talking about their crew chief, the man currently fighting for his life in that hospital. As far as they were concerned, that didn't even happen.
All anybody could talk about was how the officials lost the game for the New Orleans Saints.
"This has to be one of the DUMBEST things I've seen an official do in NFL history!" bellowed Rex Ryan, who had as much subtlety as a sledgehammer to the groin. "How did this line judge, this idiot, Bartowski, ever be allowed to wear the stripes?!"
"Rex, you are condemning someone simply because they were two steps in the wrong direction," Scott Van Pelt tried to counter. "The game should have been held up for a longer time after what happened to referee Jimmy Slade. A crew losing its chief, especially with that traumatic of an injury, is going to affect even the most ice-cold official."
"No, there is no excuse. They are paid professionals, and they are supposed to be trained to be ready for any possible situation out there."
"This injury made Joe Theismann's broken leg against the Giants in '85 look like a strained hamstring. You're asking a lot of these officials. We didn't hire seven Terminators to officiate, after all."
"In case you forgot, Scott, the Redskins ended up winning that game. They didn't make excuses. Bartowski should be fired for what happened. The entire crew should be fired, including Slade!"
Chuck's head dropped back into his hands. Bryce sat down next to him and put his arms around Chuck, glaring at the TV.
~/^\~
NFC Championship Game - Seattle Seahawks vs New Orleans Saints
Seahawks 7 – Saints 7
2nd Down and 14 – Ball on the Saints' 29
2nd Quarter – 11:29 Remaining
Jimmy Slade took quick looks at Chuck and Bryce and saw both of them point towards the line, indicating their outside men were on the line and not in the backfield. He took two steps back from his position, readying himself for Drew Brees to drop back. It made sense: it was 2nd and 14 after a five-yard illegal motion penalty on the previous play. He expected Seattle to blitz…they were one of the fastest defenses in the league…and he knew he had to be quick to avoid the scrambling quarterback.
Although the referee's responsibility was always the quarterback, he needed to know the offense, how the defense was set up, whether substitutions were made correctly, and he had to be ready for any one of a hundred different possibilities.
Of course, being the best referee currently in the league meant he knew those situations like the back of his hand.
Jimmy had spent seven years working in the Big Ten and the Big XII, even working a couple of Rose Bowl games, before Mike Tucker, the head of officiating in the NFL, made him an offer to be a head linesman in the pros. Despite twenty years of officiating experience, he learned more from his first crew chief, Jerry Markbreit, than he had in his entire career put together. The only problem was, Markbreit retired after Jimmy's rookie season and became a replay judge for another crew. Fortunately for Jimmy, he spent two years under Walt Coleman before Big Mike…Mike Tucker's nickname among the officials…gave him his own crew. And he had been carving out his own legacy ever since.
Much of that legacy could be credited to being paired with John Casey, his umpire. The NFL wasn't stupid; they gave Jimmy the most qualified second-in-command they had. Casey was considered the ultimate bad-ass by players, especially defensive players. Even hardened linebackers like Ray Lewis and Brian Urlacher never raised a voice to him. The fact that Casey could control a pair of future Hall-of-Famers like that didn't even faze him, which added to his reputation further.
Jimmy and Casey built their team over the course of the next several seasons. Some officials were outstanding and stuck around. A couple were not up to par and eventually fell out of the league. But they did find two good men for the line of scrimmage.
Bryce Larkin was a hotshot down judge...they had changed the name of the role from head linesman three years ago…after a stellar career in the Big XII and the ACC. He knew his job, but oftentimes his confidence bordered on cockiness, with a few trips over the border every now and again. Luckily, between Casey's hardened nature and Jimmy's ability to make everyone feel important and bring out their best, he blossomed into an excellent down judge.
Chuck Bartowski, on the other hand, was quieter than a stadium when the home team lost in the final seconds. He was recruited out of the Pac-12, where he still owned his small software business in Burbank. He had built an impressive resume over the years, seemingly on the field during every important game of the 2000s and early 2010s west of the Mississippi. He was the line judge on an all-star crew out of the Pac-12 for the 2014 NCAA National Championship between Auburn and Florida State. He even got to travel to Australia for the Cal-Hawaii game.
With a combination of young, hungry secondary officials handling matters downfield, over the next four years, the crew excelled, either working the Super Bowl or one of the championship games every season. The group of seven was rated the best officiating crew every year by both the league and the NFL Players Association, and the voting wasn't even close. There were many great officials over the years…Coleman, Markbreit, Jim Tunney, Ben Dreith, Mike Carey…but at no time in football history was an entire crew head and shoulders above the rest.
Jimmy knew he was a good official, but he also knew the old adage you were as only as good as the people you worked with. He knew he was lucky to have this group of officials to lead.
He took a quick glance at all of them. They were on their toes, much like baseball players on the field as the pitcher went into his windup. The crowd noise was significant, but Jimmy had heard the Mercedes-Benz Superdome much louder than this many times before. But that could change at any moment.
Brees barked out the cadence from the shotgun formation, suddenly yelling "CHECK! CHECK!" Jimmy tensed: the Saints were about to audible. He made sure he knew which back was in motion. Chuck and Bryce also looked tense, making sure the Saints had seven men on the line. They both punched forward, meaning the outside man on their side was on the line. Jimmy and Casey checked the interior five, none of whom were more than a yard off the ball.
The ball was snapped. Brees dropped three steps back, but Seattle sent everything in…even the kitchen sink. Brees scrambled right, and Jimmy started backpedaling to keep the same distance away. Richard Sherman…the Seahawks' all-pro cornerback…was part of the blitz and was heading towards Brees. Brees managed to get two steps away from the charging Sherman.
Brees never saw Michael Bennett, his 285 pounds, and his 4.4 40-yard speed coming at him. Neither did Jimmy.
Bennett bulldozed Brees, practically lifting him into the air. He drove to the ground with Brees in his arms.
Both of them fell on top of Jimmy.
Bennett immediately rolled off of the two as Chuck and Casey frantically blew their whistles and waved their arms to stop the clock. Brees also got up, and both players waved in terror toward the New Orleans sidelines, telling the medical crew to get out there immediately. Other players gathered around and stood in complete shock as Jimmy lay on the ground and didn't move an inch, a small pool of blood forming under his head.
The doctors for the Saints ran to him, joined by the doctors from the Seahawks. The coaches from both teams gently pulled everyone away to give the doctors room to work. A group of players from both teams gathered ten yards away and took a knee, holding hands and praying. The Mercedes-Benz Superdome had never been quieter in its life, the fans holding their collective breath, some of them saying prayers as well.
The doctors worked on the right side of Jimmy's face and his right shoulder, which had taken the brunt of the injury from Brees' shoulder pads being driven into him. Jimmy also appeared to have a broken right arm and hip. An ambulance pulled up next to Jimmy, and the EMTs brought out a backboard and immobilizing pads. The doctors carefully immobilized Jimmy's head, and the EMTs helped them log-roll Jimmy so he could be put on the backboard. They strapped him in and moved him onto a stretcher. As they wheeled him to the ambulance, Jimmy's left hand began to move. His hand balled into a fist, albeit a very weak fist, and he gave a very shaky thumbs-up. The crowd erupted when they saw that thumbs-up on the video board. Several players patted Jimmy's left knee as he left, expressing their relief and gratitude.
"In deference to our former colleague, that is definitely All-Madden," commented Joe Buck, who was calling the game for the Fox Network.
"No question, Joe," Troy Aikman said. "Jimmy Slade is a tough guy but one of the nicest officials I've ever known. He knows how to manage a game, will answer your questions respectfully, but he always demanded that same respect in return. And you gave it to him. It was automatic. How do you not respect a guy who can still give the thumbs-up after a hit like that? I got hit like that maybe twice in my entire career…and I was wearing pads and a helmet."
"I don't even want to contemplate what's going through the minds of the crew right now as their leader is loaded into the ambulance. Certainly, our thoughts and prayers are with Jimmy, and his wife, Alexandra. Let's hope he's OK."
~/^\~
John Casey entered the waiting room of the ICU. He took one look at the TV and read the closed-captioning. The talking heads on ESPN were still talking about the call.
"That entire crew should be fired," Rex Ryan repeated with the same complete lack of tact. "And head of officiating, Mike Tucker, should get the boot as well!"
Casey grabbed a lamp from one of the tables and rammed it into the screen, breaking the TV.
"STUPID SONS OF BITCHES!" he shouted loud enough to wake up corpses that died a millennium ago. He then stopped to collect himself. That wasn't important right now. "Any word on Slade?"
"Nothing yet," Rob McNeill, the team's back judge, said. "They haven't let anyone in."
"I tried calling his wife, but I only got voicemail," added Pat Norris, the side judge.
"Don't worry," Casey replied. "Ilsa left me a voicemail. They had everybody over to watch the game, and Ilsa said Alex was freaking out, as you would expect. But everybody over there stayed with her. When they showed Slade giving the thumbs-up, she said she never saw so much hugging in her life."
"Ilsa's married to you; one hug would be more than she had ever seen in her life," Bryce quipped.
"Can it, Magic Mike wannabe," Casey spat. "Marriage is a whole different ballgame that you don't know a thing about."
"And I never want to."
Casey collapsed onto one of the chairs. "I talked to the Commissioner directly. I told him that we needed more time to get back into the game after they took Slade off. And the media department confirmed our communications did cut out right before the play. But rules are rules. An official is considered part of the field. Always has been, always will be."
He looked towards Chuck. "This isn't your fault, kid. It isn't."
Chuck didn't look up. He didn't stop shaking. His eyes didn't stop tearing.
~/^\~
Seahawks 30 – Saints 28
3rd Down and 9 – Ball on the Seahawks' 36
4th Quarter – 1:27 Remaining
"And the Saints call their final timeout to stop the clock," Joe Buck announced from the broadcast booth. "If they can stop the Seahawks here on 3rd down and force a punt, they should end up with twenty to thirty seconds left. Depending on how good of a return they can get, they may have one or two plays to move them into field goal range, leaving it up to kicker Will Lutz to get the win. But they need a big stop right here. Expect the Seahawks to keep it on the ground and not give up the easy interception."
Chuck got a good look at the Saints' defense from behind their line. He was the umpire now. Casey had moved over to the referee position in place of Jimmy. The crew was still shaken up from what happened in the second quarter, but the game had to go on. After a thirty-minute delay, play continued using a backup official there for the game. However, since he was a younger official, Casey had Chuck move to the umpire position, making the less-experienced official the line judge.
Chuck looked carefully to see how many running backs the Seahawks had set up, but he couldn't get a good view.
"Casey, are they in a Power-I or are they split?" Chuck said over his comm gear, which each official wore to talk with the crew. But he got silence in return.
"Casey, can you hear me? Case? Anybody?"
Chuck's eyes widened as the ball was snapped. Russell Wilson, the Seahawks' quarterback, appeared to hand the ball off. Chuck took three steps up, getting himself ready to make sure he could help get the spot of the ball right. Anybody with half a football brain would have expected the clean handoff, given the Seahawks didn't want to commit an easy turnover.
That was the wrong assumption to make. Wilson faked the handoff and ran behind his right guard, who had pulled to the left side.
Wilson got past the line of scrimmage as the Saints' secondary moved in and their linebackers gave chase. Chuck turned around and started in that same direction. Wilson cut to the right just in front of Chuck, and Chuck stopped dead in his tracks. Unfortunately, that caused the Saints' Manti Te'O to stop and change direction to avoid hitting Chuck, missing Wilson by a narrow margin in the process.
Wilson was tackled near the Seahawks' 45.
Chuck blew the whistle to signal the play dead, but he was beside himself. As Bryce brought the chains in for a measurement, Chuck was in a state of shock. Wilson used him to set a pick and prevent Te'O from tackling him short of the first down mark. Which was confirmed when Bryce stretched the chains, and the nose of the ball was past the first down line.
Seattle had a first down, and all they had to do was kneel down twice for the win. Final score: Seahawks 30 – Saints 28.
The eerie quiet the stadium experienced while Jimmy was injured was gone, replaced by vicious booing, screaming, and cursing. Stadium security, the New Orleans Police, and even some members of the National Guard surrounded the field to stop hundreds of fans from going on the turf to murder Chuck. Several officers surrounded the crew and ran them under the tunnel to get them away from the brewing riot, although quite a few of them contemplated letting the crowd have them, as if they were Christians and the lions had taken over the Colosseum.
~/^\~
"Haven't heard anything yet, Alex. But we're here at the hospital. The second we hear anything, we'll call you. Meantime, let us know when you land tomorrow. We'll get you at arrivals at Armstrong International. Just hang in there. Your husband will be fine. Get some rest, OK?"
Casey hung up his phone and let out an exhale. "She sounded a lot better than she did a few hours ago," he told the crew. "My wife and she are on the first flight down in the morning. I'll go pick them up at the airport."
Casey turned to Chuck. "Kid, head for the hotel and get some rest. They already changed your room and took all of our names off the register. There's a squad car waiting for you. They'll get you in. You need some sleep."
"I can't," Chuck said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need to stay here."
"He's right, Chuck," Bryce said. "I'll call you the second the doctors tell us anything. You need some time off. Just to get away from everything."
Chuck shook his head. "I have to get back to do some install work…"
"I texted Morgan. He kept trying to contact you, but you weren't in any condition to talk to anyone. I told him reschedule any appointment this week the two morons couldn't handle on their own."
Chuck looked up at Bryce. Although both of them graduated in Electrical Engineering from Stanford, their career paths split from there. Bryce went to work for a large telecommunications company as a network analyst while Chuck decided he wanted to help mom-and-pop businesses use computers to make their lives easier. Zork Computer Consultants was born out of that idea. Bryce provided some help for him in the early days until Chuck was able to hire his best friend, Morgan, to run the day-to-day operations and keep an eye on Jeff and Lester, whose attitude towards work was not exactly conducive to keeping a business afloat.
"Thanks," he said softly, straining to give a tiny smile to Bryce.
"Gentlemen?"
Everyone turned to see one of Jimmy's doctors. "Is Mr. Slade's family here?" the doctor asked.
Casey looked back and forth at the crew. "His wife is flying in tomorrow morning, but she wanted me to relay any news you had."
The doctor exhaled. "Given Mr. Slade was driven into the ground by over 500 pounds of force, this could have been a lot worse. We relieved the cranial pressure on his brain, but his right scapula, pelvis, and right femur were badly damaged."
Casey swallowed hard. "So, his football career…"
"I'm afraid that's over. He'll need a wheelchair for at least the next six months, and he may need assistance in walking for a long time after this."
"What…what about…" Chuck stammered, pointing at his head.
"We're hoping for the best. The next 48 hours are crucial. But we've had a number of cases where the victim has fully recovered having come in under worse conditions than this. We'll keep you informed."
Casey nodded. "Thanks, Doc."
The doctor went back to the ICU. Casey called his wife, Ilsa, so she could tell the news to Alex.
~/…two years later…\~
NFL Headquarters – New York, NY
April 18th
3:15 PM EDT
The Commissioner walked to the podium, and the flashbulbs fired off from everywhere. He had a couple of quick announcements to make before he would turn over the press conference to Mike Tucker, the head of officiating for the league. Big Mike…even everyone in NFL Headquarters called him that…had three important announcements. The Commissioner figured most people wouldn't care about the first two, but the third was going to set the league on its ear. Still, this was something that should have been done long ago, and the buck stopped with him.
"Good afternoon, everyone," the Commissioner began. "I will make two quick announcements. First, the NFL schedule for this season will be released tomorrow around 4PM Eastern time, so I know the fans and all of you in the media are raring to see the schedule. Secondly, we are on-target for the draft, taking place on the 24th through the 26th in Las Vegas at Allegiant Stadium. We anticipate it being a great event for the fans, especially our newest fans in Nevada as they welcome the Raiders.
"At this time, I wish to turn things over to our head of officiating, Mike Tucker."
The Commissioner stepped aside, and Big Mike stepped up to the podium. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. My first announcement has to do with our three-year experimental program for creating an official for each game, which many of you have already nicknamed the 'sky judge', to examine the feasibility of using a multi-view surveillance system during games to help capture more of the game than our current slate of seven officials and the standard five-camera or nine-camera setups do now. We are hoping to roll this out to all officiating crews two seasons from now. I wish to thank John Casey and his crew for participating in this experiment. I know that all of your share my admiration for the work they've done, and there is little doubt their abilities have made this a success. I would also like to thank Jimmy Slade. Who, despite his horrible injury two years ago, has made great contributions as the sky judge for John Casey and his crew."
Big Mike paused to see if there were any questions, but apparently nobody had much interest in something that wouldn't begin for at least two seasons. "My second announcement is of a personal nature. This will be my final season as head of officiating. I will retire on February 28th of next year. And since the next head of officiating would have to spearhead the introduction of our new sky judge system, the league thought the most logical choice would be the person already working in that system. Someone who has close to 30 years of officiating experience, and someone who is beyond reproach. So, as of March 1st next year, Jimmy Slade will take over as head of officiating."
Big Mike paused again, but he saw very satisfied looks on the part of the media. "Everybody is smiling at that announcement? Nobody's going to challenge me? You're all starting to scare me now." That generated a laugh. "But I must apologize to Jimmy, because I'm not leaving this job until I make this next announcement. And it is one of the things I'll be proudest of when I look back at my career in the NFL. This season, we have hired two officials out of college. They are first two women to become officials in the National Football League."
He pointed to his right. "Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I am honored to introduce you to Miss Jill Roberts and Miss Sarah Walker."
Jill Roberts and Sarah Walker walked out to the podium and stood on either side of Big Mike. Unlike his prior two announcements, there was no silence from the press. Quite the opposite, actually.
