Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: FRIDAY, February 28, 1992 TAG: 9202280062
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: B7 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: RANDY KING SPORTSWRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
RUNNING DOWN A DREAM
LIKE MANY PLAYERS and officials in the ECHL, referee Pete Messana is pursuing a shot at the NHL. But things happen along the way.\ When Pete Messana moved to Roanoke from Long Island, N.Y., in 1987, it wasn't because of his love for mountains, country music or grits.
"I came here for one reason," Messana said, "and that's to pursue a dream.
"I was hoping that Roanoke would be my first stop on the way to the National Hockey League."
Roanoke and the now-defunct All American Hockey League were to be the launching pad for Messana's dream to become an NHL referee.
Five years later, Messana's shuttle to the NHL is stalled in Southwest Virginia. However, his whistle still blows, and his dream, although a remote possibility at best, is alive.
"You never know what might happen," said Messana, one of some 15 referees working in the East Coast Hockey League.
"The dream [of making the NHL] is slipping month by month, but I still entertain thoughts.
"I put my heart and soul into this every night. I do every game in this league as if the opportunity to the NHL was knocking that evening."
\ It's 3:08 p.m. on Wednesday, Jan. 29, and the only thing running faster than Pete Messana's mouth is his Pontiac Grand Am on U.S. 460.
The site of this night's assignment is the Richmond Coliseum, where the Richmond Renegades are playing the Roanoke Valley Rebels.
"It's funny how I got into this," said Messana, who played goalie as a youngster. "I had this buddy in New York who was a linesman. Somebody canceled out one night in one of the local leagues and he asked me to help him out. I've been hooked on refereeing ever since."
After a stop in Appomattox for pasta - "I always eat pasta three, four hours before a game" - Messana talks about what he feels is sports' toughest officiating job.
"Hockey is different from basketball, football or baseball," he said. "In hockey, only one man - the referee - makes the call. You don't see everything but you hardly miss anything is the best way I can describe it.
"It's probably the single most difficult, most challenging thing I'll ever do. It challenges every part of my personality, every part of my intellect, every part of my composure. And that's what hooked me on it. It's a lot more to it than black and white, out or safe. There's just so much subjectivity to it."
Because of the subjectivity involved, hockey referees, at all levels, are inviting targets for criticism from coaches, players and fans.
"Not a day goes by when somebody doesn't call me and complain about officiating," ECHL Commissioner Pat Kelly said. "No matter what call a referee makes, there's always going to be somebody who complains. Somebody is always getting shortchanged; this, that or the other.
"It's like that everywhere in the game. I know. I used to coach. I used to be one of the guys who complained."
Contrary to the opinion of many coaches, players and fans in the ECHL, Messana says the officiating corps is on par with the caliber of play in the 4-year-old league.
"The coaches and players wouldn't dare say that if [top NHL referees] Andy VanHellemond, Kerry Fraser and Bill McCreary came down and reffed a weekend of games in this league," Messana said, chuckling.
"The biggest thing . . . is to give them consistency. The coaches and players can't ask for anything more than that. I'm not the same every night, but I try to be from the beginning of a game to the end."
Messana said the constant negativism, especially from the fans, doesn't faze him. His tires haven't been slashed and he hasn't required a police escort to exit a rink - at least not yet.
"The crowd never intimidates me," Messana said. "If the crowd boos me all night, I'll just enjoy it. It keeps me awake, alert."
Messana then laughs.
"You know," he said, "I think the fans in Vinton think [the officials] are hidden in a closet somewhere. Then, somebody opens the closet and they pull three officials out. They do the game and then they go back in the closet. That's all [the fans] know about or care to think about.
"If you're wearing stripes, you're not worth a s---, period."
\ At 5:19 p.m., Messana whips his car into a parking space near the back entrance of the Richmond Coliseum. It's still more than two hours to game time, but he likes to arrive at rinks early "to walk around, sit in the stands and relax a little."
Messana's linesmen on this night are Gerald Bodnar of Washington, D.C., and John Sheiry of Baltimore, who drove to Richmond together to work a game for which they would receive $75 each, minus expenses.
Inside a small coliseum cubicle, the officials change into their stripes and discuss possible game situations.
Minutes before the opening faceoff, Messana gets word that Norm Broseker, a veteran NHL linesman, is in town to scout the game.
"This is my big chance. I've been waiting three years for this," said Messana, who had confessed to being frustrated because an NHL official never had been present for one of his ECHL games.
The game is routine except for an incident in the second period, when Sheiry, trying to stop a fight, is struck in the face by a Richmond player.
Because of the incident, which requires a lengthy written report be filed and two phone calls to Kelly's home in Charlotte, N.C., the three don't leave the coliseum until almost 90 minutes after the final horn.
"I hope the stupid incident doesn't put a damper on the game I called," said Messana, exiting the coliseum. "I don't think I could have prevented it."
The sight of Broseker keeps bouncing in Messana's mind.
"You wait for years for an opportunity and, who knows, this might be it," he said. "Hopefully, [Broseker] liked me and will pass it along to the right person. I feel good about the job I did.
"What a night! I'm still on a high. Somebody was there and saw me. That's all I can ask for."
\ Fifty miles outside of Richmond, Messana pulls into a truck stop for a 1 a.m. supper.
"I know all the good places that are open late," he said. "I also know about falling asleep at the wheel. That's all right. A sight of a tree trunk in your face takes care of that."
While eating, Messana continues to critique his night at the office, for which he is paid $175, minus expenses.
"You know when your game was in the toilet," said Messana, who supplements his income by working part-time with the Department of Recreation in Roanoke. "All you can do is trust your own instincts, think about it afterwards and let it go. It used to bother me for a couple days. Now, by the end of my postgame meal, I've let it all go."
All except for the dream.
"I left Roanoke for a year in 1988-89 to work a year in the International league," Messana said. "At the end of that year, I was hoping the NHL would take me into their training system. But for whatever reason, the powers that be didn't take me. I then had the option of going home to New York and trying a real job or coming back to Roanoke and keep trying [in the ECHL].
"I'm still disappointed I didn't get my chance then, but as long as I'm a ref in pro hockey I'll still be hopeful. You're never too old to dream."