I worked a state championship game at Gillette Stadium. I’m determined to get back again.

When NFL officials begin a season, there are 121 pairs of eyes on the prize at the end of the season: being assigned to work the Super Bowl. For me, as an official at the high school level, I have a similar goal. That prize is one of the prestigious state championship games.

This past Friday, while still in the very early stages of my officiating career, I achieved that goal I set at the start of the season. I was the field judge on the crew assigned to officiate the Massachusetts Interscholastic Athletic Association Division III state championship game held at Gillette Stadium.

In Massachusetts high school football, schools are divided into eight divisions solely based on population of the school. Each division has their own championship game, so only 56 officials across the entire state make it to this stage. During the regular season and in the first two playoff rounds, crews of five are used. However, in the state semifinals and championship games, the manpower bumps up to a seven-official crew.

My crew consisted of referee Charley Ashley, umpire John Harrington, head linesman Mark Furtado, line judge Ken Southworth, side judge Jay Roberge, and back judge Manny Perry. The officials at the traditional five-man crew positions — everyone but the field judge and side judge — were a regular crew during the season. Jay and I joined their crew as deep wings for the state championship.

There is no requirement to officiate any number of postseason games leading up to the state championship, but typically, officials will have at least one in the same tournament, across any of the eight divisions. Massachusetts uses a four-round bracket, where in the first two rounds, officials are assigned by local assigners, meaning you can only officiate in your leagues or conferences that you work during the regular season. This can be limiting depending on how many teams from those conferences qualify for the playoffs. For the final two rounds, a state assigner on behalf of the MIAA selects the officials, based on recommendations from local assigners and game observations.

Getting the notification

While every official has the goal of being assigned to a state championship, the reality of the slim chances are clear. Having only started my high school officiating career a handful of seasons ago, I knew the chances were even slimmer than the average. Notwithstanding, I still put in a lot of effort this year just as I do in every season, hoping that the playoff rewards will come when November rolls around.

I was assigned to officiate in both the first and second playoff rounds. This season was also the first time I worked in a round beyond the first round. Knowing I had a quarterfinal game made me very happy and pleased with my season. I had advanced further in the tournament than I ever had before, and to me, that alone was the sign of a successful season.

The week leading up to that quarterfinal game, I received a text message from one of my assigners. “Keep the Gillette days open. I have a sneaky suspicion you may get a game.” At that point, I was hopeful, but not treating those words as gospel. I worked the quarterfinal game that Friday night, and it was one of the hardest games I’ve ever worked.

I was on the sideline for a state semifinal, but was not given an on-field assignment. The week leading up, when the assignments for the state semifinals were being released, I asked the same assigner if the assignments had gone out. He told me that they already had, but not to worry, as the state assigner was “planning” on assigning me to a state championship. These loose assurances were building but I wasn’t sold yet.

The day after Thanksgiving, it was official. The assignment hit my ArbiterSports account: I was going to work a state championship game. No fanfare, no ceremonious call, just a new game notification like all the others I had received during the season.

I was ecstatic, and it was time to prepare.

Preparing for the game

The day after we received our assignment, my sideline partner for the game reached out to me and we had a long discussion about expectations and adapting to seven-man mechanics. This would be only the second time I had worked as a deep-wing official on a crew of seven, so I had to read up on the differences in keys and other responsibilities.

Two days before the game, rather than the typical hour before the game, our crew held our pregame meeting. We spent 90 minutes going over every single thing we needed to review to ensure we would be the best and most well-prepared of the three teams on the field.

We held our pregame meeting well in advance of the game since we were going to be working the last of the three championships slated for the day, and three different crews would be coming and going from the officials locker room. Also, we wanted to be able to take in the magnitude of the environment of officiating a game in an NFL stadium.

Game day: leading up to kickoff

I arrived at Gillette Stadium over four hours before the start of our game. Having been to the stadium countless times, but never with the same accessibility as I had on this day, I wanted to make sure I took it all in. When I arrived, I was directed to the officials locker room, with the iconic (at least to us NFL officiating nerds) “POSITIVELY NO VISITORS” sign on the door. In 2017, before my high school officiating career even began, I was at Gillette Stadium for an NFL preseason rules presentation for media members. Back then, I walked past this famous door, but never thought I would ever have the opportunity to step inside.

Upon entering, I was struck with awe. No, it wasn’t a luxurious room or a space of elegance, it was a lounge area with the officials locker room attached straight ahead at the back, and a locker room for chain crew members to the right. However, it hit me in that moment that I was standing in the room that so many great NFL officials had also stood in before me. Having only been the Patriots’ stadium since 2002, names like Hochuli, Steratore, Morelli, and McAulay came to mind. I treated the room with a sense of reverence in a way that someone may treat the Sistine Chapel.

The first of the three games was wrapping up at the time, and I walked through the visitors tunnel with some of my crew members to watch that game’s conclusion from the sideline. It was not the first time I stood on the field at Gillette, but it was the first time with free reign. It was an amazing experience and I knew I had to soak it all up before it was time to get back to business.

Before long, we were back in the officials locker room going over our last-minute reminders, dressing for the game, and 30 minutes prior to kickoff, we made our way to the field.

The game

This championship game was unique in the fact that it was the only one of the eight matchups this year that featured two teams that played each other earlier in the season. Both teams were in the league that I work during the regular season, and I had worked games for each of them already this year, so we knew what to expect. And that expectation was an emphasis on the ground game.

As the field judge, that didn’t bode well for me seeing a lot of action. But in that moment on that stage, it didn’t matter. While this was such a huge accomplishment, it boiled down to being just a football game that was no different than any other I had worked during the season.

My dead-ball officiating was amped up as a deep wing, cleaning up where necessary to allow the line of scrimmage officials to hold spots. On one of the first plays in the second quarter, a pass came my way, and just as the quarterback released the ball, the receiver fell to the ground. I passed on throwing my flag, as it looked like incidental contact as a result of entanglement. The crowd and the sideline roared for me to intervene, but I stood my ground with the no-call. At halftime, my assigner, who was watching the game from the locker room, agreed with me.

I threw a flag for defensive holding in the third quarter. It was the only foul I called the whole game. One of the defensive backs was just draped over the back of the receiver as he was attempting to cut inside, and restricted his route. It was the team whose sideline I was on that was penalized, and I heard an earful from the head coach, but once he looked up to the video board to see the replay, he clammed up. (I, also, may or may not have peeked up there too; I was satisfied).

Unlike the first time these two teams met, one team ran away with it, clinching their first state title since 2002. As they streamed onto the field in celebration, I jogged to the tunnel. I remarked to one of my crew members, “I’m taking it all in and getting a good look around because I don’t know when I’ll be back here!” We re-entered the locker room and embraced each other, celebrating a job well done.

I exited the stadium just like I had for every game I attended with my family over the years, but this time, I felt a strong sense of pride, knowing that this time, I had played a role in the main event. And while I played a role, I went unnoticed, and for an official, that’s the best thing you can have in a game. As a high school football official, to work in an NFL stadium, and have that anonymity that officials of all levels seek, it was a perfect day. It was bliss, and tasting that experience will make me work harder in future seasons than I ever had before.

Because I need to have that taste again.

Photos courtesy of Cam Filipe