For the last nine years, I have visited communities all over the State of Michigan. I have been at school as close as six minutes from my house. And I have been at schools that have been as far as nearly two hours from my house. I have stepped onto grass fields that looked like they haven't been mowed in a month. I have officiated soccer on fields that were built in the middle of a cornfield. I've officiated on turf fields that cost the school system a half million dollars.

And then there's the day that I quit officiating high school soccer.

The day started out like any other ordinary day. I got up out of bed, even though I really didn't want to get up out of bed. I had to drag myself across the bedroom. I even set my alarm back two times before I managed to get that far. When I finally accomplished my first goal of many (making it out of my bedroom, down the hall and down the stairs without face planting), I knew I'd get through another day.

Then there's work. I managed to get through an eight-hour day of work. Packed my stuff up. Headed down the road to the school that I was scheduled to officiate soccer at. Felt the bumps under my car tires. Felt my car shake. Saw the huge holes in the road. Swerved around one pothole after another. And all the while thinking God Bless Michigan roads. I couldn't help but laugh. Singing to a song on the radio, feeling my car shaking driving down the road, I just kept thinking, "I sure hope the soccer game is better than the drive."

Boy was I wrong.

The first game, a JV girls soccer game, wasn't terrible. Boring at best, very slow, not good quality soccer. The girls struggled to get the ball up and down the field. Scoring a goal received a reception like the second coming of Jesus. The crowd went wild. People were cheering, yelling, screaming and you'd think that someone just hit the lottery.

I thought to myself that it was off to a pretty good start. And maybe, just maybe, the second game would turn out to be just as easy to get through.

Boy was I wrong.

I'd like to mention the fact that the coaches for both teams were great. The players on both teams were great. The game was physical, a bit dirty at times, very rough and tumble at times, and on a number of occasions, a couple of the girls went down hard on the field. The center official had to blow the whistle and stop the clock while trainers went out, the coach went out and on one occasion, even a parent went out. All in the name of soccer.

The game was close. All the way through until the middle of the second half; that's when the downward slide began. First, a fan was ejected at the hands of yours truly. Nothing like hearing an almost 80-year-old grandfather say the F word, tell me that the refs were full of shit and call us an assorted list of vulgar names that included everything but referring to us as our mothers son. And that was followed by the student section insulting the girls from the Catholic school that was playing them. It involved the student section using vulgar language, making obscene comments and having yours truly tell them in no uncertain terms to shut up or they'd be thrown out of the venue.

Mind you, this was their own school. And all the while acting like a group of jackasses.

The game only got better. It was a close battle between two pretty good teams. And then the insults started. The parents started complaining that the center official wasn't calling the game fairly. The vulgar obscene language started. The insults continued. Hearing the typical "Call it both ways" continued almost consistently throughout the entire second half of the game.

Then the game concluded. I was thankful, blessed and happy to be there. But lo and behold, it wasn't over yet. Here comes a trashy looking ghetto wannabe thug that had tattoos all over his arms, accompanied by an overweight sleazy looking woman who was either his wife or a poor choice for a girlfriend. A foul mouth, vulgar language, clothes that were too tight for her body showing off rolls of flab in places nobody wanted to see and who managed to throw a few choice insults out to my partner and I as we stood in the parking lot after the game, trying to have a reasonable conversation.

Her actions and those of her wannabe thug boyfriend managed to get them called (by yours truly) classless trash. And mind you, in 14 years as a sports official, I had never behaved in that manner, never said those words to a fan and I have no regrets. Sure, my actions were not of a Christian, not of a God follower and not of a good person. But every official reaches their breaking point after the insults, criticism and negativity. The derogatory comments, the abusive behavior and the horrid classless attitudes of so many people in the community.

That led to the day I quit officiating high school soccer.

The day will forever stand in my memory. The day is May 9, 2018, the last time I stepped on a soccer field, the last school I worked for and the last community I was a part of. And thanks to the fans, parents and "supporters" of the school's varsity girls soccer team, the Michigan High School Athletic Association lost a good official. They lost an official that cared about the kids, an official that cared about the sport he worked, an official that wanted to be there for more than the money and more than anything, an official who knew the sport.

For those of you that are always complaining that there are not enough qualified, good, caring officials in the world, you lost another one today. Today is the day that I quit officiating high school soccer. And for those of you out there reading this, all thanks for the abusive behavior, negativity and classless trash attitude from Coldwater High School in Coldwater, Michigan.