NFL Jet-Setter : Longtime Umpire Lives an Airborne Life on Weekends With Many Hours of Preparation, Intense Concentration

Walking through a tunnel under Jack Murphy Stadium, Gordon Wells felt the rush that has greeted him before each National Football League game he has worked the past 18 seasons. Neither nervousness nor a high, the feeling is one of importance. It forces Wells, an umpire, into “a concentration mode” apart from the clamoring crowd and the scent of hot dogs, nachos and beer.

Wells, a member of the 1946 Junior Rose Bowl team at Compton College, has worked 16 playoff games and two Super Bowls. He is third in longevity among NFL umpires, a “solid, dependable” official, according to Art McNally, the league’s supervisor of officials.

The performance of an NFL official usually goes unnoticed until he throws that yellow penalty flag, as Wells did in a preseason game here between the Chargers and Phoenix Cardinals recently, or in Monday night’s nationally televised game between the New York Giants and the Washington Redskins. Only when his flag falls do football fans take a good look at No. 89 in the black-and-white striped shirt, and it is a superficial look at best. “The average person thinks we just walk into the stadium and let the chips fall where they may,” Wells said. “Nothing could be further from the truth.”

Officials, paid anywhere from $600 to $2,000 a game, plus expenses depending on years of service, attend clinics in the spring and summer. On fall weekends they crisscross the country in jetliners, spending much of their time in cramped hotel rooms and airports.

Early Departure

To get to Washington, D.C., last week, Wells awoke before dawn last Sunday, drove from his Huntington Beach home to Los Angeles International Airport and caught a 7 a.m. flight. Arriving late in the afternoon, he spent Sunday night and last Monday in lengthy preparatory meetings. He and the other six men in his officiating crew were tested on rules and possible game situations. They viewed films of the San Diego-Phoenix game and their performances were critiqued by NFL personnel. Each received a rating based on performance. At the end of the season, the man with the highest rating at each of the seven NFL officiating positions is assigned to work the Super Bowl, which carries a $7,500 bonus.

By kickoff time any Sunday, an official has spent about 12 hours in meetings, 10 hours in planes and eight hours, mostly sleeping, in a hotel room. On Monday they have to be back at their regular jobs as businessmen, lawyers, insurance salesmen or educators. Wells is chairman of the physical education department at Harbor College in Wilmington. “The guys really prepare,” Wells said. “Then when the game is over you are completely drained.”

An umpire’s concentration is crucial, not only to his success but to his physical survival. Wells is 6-foot-2 and 215 pounds but he is dwarfed by today’s professional linemen. He begins each play about 5 1/2 yards off the line of scrimmage, somewhere between the linebackers and defensive backs. It pays to be alert, he said: “On a draw play, your entire life goes before your eyes.”

Foot Bone Cracked

In one well-known incident in last year’s Super Bowl, the ball landed on Wells’ feet, and so did just about everyone else. Early in the game he was trapped between players in a misdirection play at the San Francisco goal line. TV replays showed him being buried underneath a heap of shoulder pads.

The impact cracked a small bone in Wells’ foot, but he continued to work, eventually to make the most important call of the game on veteran 49er center Randy Cross for illegally blocking downfield.

Slightly more than a minute remained in the game, and San Francisco, which went on to beat Cincinnati, 20-16, was marching for its winning touchdown. Cross’ error nullified a huge 49er gain. As Wells marked off the penalty yardage, TV cameras showed quarterback Joe Montana seething and Cross, who was playing in the final game of an outstanding career, sulking.

“(The umpire) is in a precarious place,” Wells said. “You’re dodging players all the time. You do it by feel. If you have to look around for these guys, you might as well retire. You learn the value of preparedness.”

The NFL does not allow officials to be interviewed during the regular season, so the last chance to get a glimpse of the officials’ routine was in a preseason game here, and even that was difficult because the NFL restricted access to film sessions and dressing quarters.

“We used to let the press in to talk to them,” McNally said. “But we were averaging 15 requests a week. Where are you going to draw the line? Officials were constantly up in the forefront where they shouldn’t be.”

The officiating crew arrives at the stadium two hours before kickoff. Sometimes they dress in cramped quarters. A parade of people, all involved in some aspect of game management, knocks on the door to brief or be briefed. Crew chief Dick Hantak, the referee, meets with radio and TV announcers and discusses timeouts. Men called “Orange Sleeves” because they wear brightly colored bands on their arms, are to signal the officials from the sidelines when it is time for a station break or commercial.

“The whole thing is basically scripted,” Wells explained. “Everything is planned out before the game begins.”

Half an hour before kickoff, all exit: Wells, Hantak, head linesman Tom Johnson, line judge Don Carlsen, back judge Paul Baetz, side judge Gary Lane and field judge Ed Merrifield. Each patrols a different area of the stadium, a pair go to each team locker room.

Wells walks the length of the stadium, eyeing each player. He is primarily responsible for getting the 24 game balls to the field and checking for equipment violations. A wireless radio is strapped to his back, a microphone taped to his neck. Wells is the official who communicates with the instant replay booth in the press box. The replay officials test the equipment by buzzing the receiver.

“Yes. I heard it,” Wells shouted back. Earlier, Wells had apologized for speaking loudly: “I get used to hollering when this is on because I can’t hear.”

Wells turns out of the end zone and up a sideline. He spots two Charger players with towels that do not meet NFL regulations. He informs them that a towel cannot be more than 12 inches long and can be worn only tucked into the side of the pants. The players want to know if the official is joking. Wells, with a firm smile, tells them he is serious.

“Lots of young guys, the first thing they think is that we’re putting them on,” he said.

Medical Casts Checked

Wells is handed a card from the Phoenix trainer. It lists unusual medical equipment being worn, such as casts. Wells must check each cast.

“Usually it’s the linemen with casts,” he said. “They can play with casts, but we have a speech to give to each of them that says they can’t use it as a weapon.”

At midfield, Wells questions a Charger lineman whose socks may not meet NFL standards. Only one pair of socks is allowed. Socks cannot droop and, with an eye toward TV ratings, no hairy legs can show. Later, he will inspect the kickers’ shoes, which cannot be altered or taped.

Wells is amiable throughout the routine, plying his trade with a grin.

“Yo, official,” Charger veteran linebacker Gil Byrd shouted. “This OK?” He pointed to a shorter towel on his hip. Wells nodded approval.

Wells retrieves a brown bag of balls and hands them to a teen-age ball boy, saying: “They’re all yours, my friend.”

One Replay Dispute

It turned out to be an uneventful game for Wells. He detects his first violation--an illegal block--at the 13:35 mark of the second quarter. In all, he whistles just five penalties. He warns one player about his use of hands and tells another to straighten his towel, which is in the front of his pants. There is only one replay dispute.

Down 17-7, San Diego rallies to win, 21-20, on the final play of the game. A victory cannon sounds, and fans cheer the Chargers, who are whooping it up on the field.

Wells walks slowly off the field with Hantak at his side. They disappear through a door and up a tunnel under the seats. Wells takes a long drink from a water cooler. Fans are still cheering outside.

He turns and smiles. “About 15 minutes, guys,” he said to a couple of NFL employees.

Report Cards

In the locker room the crew fills out yellow cards detailing each foul called. The cards will be rushed to the NFL’s New York headquarters to be compared to the game films and to similar comment cards from each team’s head coach.

The compilation of information is used to rate each official’s performance, which could ultimately lead to that Super Bowl slot. Last year, four members of Wells’ crew worked the Super Bowl.

Forty-five minutes later, most of the crowd has left, although about 100 autograph seekers mill around the tunnel outside the stadium where the officiating crew exits. The fans pay little attention to the men, who are escorted to their automobiles. Wells, in coat and tie and eating a sandwich, admits he is tired, but he is glad he has only an hour and a half drive home, which means he can sleep in his own bed tonight, and not in an airplane seat.

“Usually after a game we’re all scrambling to catch late flights out of town,” Wells said. “We don’t have a lot of time to talk.”

Wells climbs into a white Mercedes 300D with California license plates that read “NFL 89,” a gift from his wife. He puts the car in gear and drives off into the damp San Diego air. Each of the next 15 weekends will find him in a new town, but for now, few notice his car disappearing into the night.