Strom Makes Last Whistle Stop

PORTLAND - Earl Strom was a self-admitted maverick. When other people turned the other cheek, Strom threw another punch. Where most referees would walk away from trouble, Strom charged headlong into it.

Like that night in 1967 in Memphis when the St. Louis Hawks played the Philadelphia 76ers and he disallowed a Hawk basket at the buzzer, giving the 76ers a victory.

Irv Gack, the rotund Hawk assistant general manager who was working the 24-second clock, called Strom ``gutless.'' Strom asked him to repeat that statement. Gack did.

The prudent thing to do would have been to leave the floor with dignity, and let Gack's expletives evaporate in the Memphis air. But Strom leaped across the scorer's table, grabbed Gack by the shirt and prepared to rumble.

Watching on television at home in Pottstown, Pa., were Strom's wife and five children. They saw Sixer center Wilt Chamberlain put a bear hug on Strom, pull him off Gack and carry him toward the locker room.

``It looks like Earl Strom's in some trouble,'' the television announcer said. ``We'll see you next week.''

Strom received a healthy fine for that incident, but then Strom has set unreachable records for fines. He and the National Basketball Association powers have existed symbiotically for the past 32 years.

There was that column for the Reading (Pa.) Eagle, in which Strom ripped Jonathan Kovler, the Chicago Bulls' owner. The Eagle paid him $10 for the column. The league fined him $10,000 for it.

``I paid a lot of fines for a lot of stupid things I did,'' he said.

Strom was a maverick.

As he walked off the floor after a playoff game in Baltimore, a fan threw a cup that hit him in the eye. Strom went after the assailant, threw a punch and suffered a broken thumb.

The next day, he was in the hospital. That night, with his hand in a cast, he was in the Boston Garden officiating one of history's most memorable games - the seventh game of the Boston-Philadelphia series, when John Havlicek stole Hal Greer's inbounds pass to preserve a Celtic victory.

Officiating, for Strom, was a way of life that often threatened his life.

Like the Sunday afternoon in Milwaukee, the final game of a Milwaukee-Philadelphia playoff series. Strom ejected Milwaukee Coach Don Nelson in the second quarter. By halftime, there was a threat on Strom's life.

``A guy called the arena and said he was coming down there to blow my head off with a shotgun,'' Strom said. ``I figured, what else was a guy going to do on a Sunday afternoon in Milwaukee?

``But I was scared. They shoot popes and presidents; why wouldn't they shoot a stupid referee? Commissioner David Stern told me I didn't have to go out for the second half, if I didn't want to. But I went out and refereed.

``They told me that as soon as the game was over, `Don't hesitate. Run off the court, and we'll get you out of town.' But this was Julius Erving's last game. I have this thing about last games. I like to present the players with the ball.

``In the second half, I forgot about the threat. After the game I ran after the ball, got it and gave it to Julius. We hugged. And afterward my friends told me that was smart. Nobody was going to take a shot at me when I was that close to Julius Erving.''

Strom was a survivor. He was as tough as Rick Mahorn, as durable as the Boston Garden. He officiated for 32 years. He went the full 48 minutes every night, took all of the abuse, and made all the tough calls.

Maybe he was the best. The Jerry West, the Wilt Chamberlain, the Bill Russell, the Michael Jordan of his profession.

He let the players play, ruling by the spirit, not the letter of the NBA law; calling them the way he saw them, never afraid to reverse a wrong call.

He came into the league long before the glory years. Bill Russell was in his second year at Boston. George Yardley was the league's leading scorer. He followed the bouncing ball from Rochester to Fort Wayne to Syracuse. Along with fellow officials Mendy Rudolph and Norm Drucker, he was called ``the Father, Son and Holy Ghost.''

A prodigal son, Strom once jumped with officials John Vanak, Joe Gushue and Drucker to the American Basketball Association for more money. Three years later, commissioner Walter Kennedy asked him to return, but many of the league's established officials - Darell Garretson and Jake O'Donnell, for instance - protested.

Strom sat out a year, then returned. Many officials wouldn't talk to him. He persevered. He isn't friendly with Garretson. ``Let's just say our personalities are different,'' Strom said. But he gets along.

Now at age 62, but looking more like 42, Strom is retiring. The best in the business is giving up the business. Tuesday's fourth game of the Detroit-Portland final probably was his last.

``I just thought it was time,'' he said yesterday. ``I decided last year. I had put 32 years in. If I got through this year I was going to be 62. To be honest, I'm a little bit tired of fighting the battles for the young referees, and I'll just let it go at that.''

This American original will be missed. The distinctive way he blew his whistle. ``Tweet (pause) tweet-tweet.'' The running commentaries he kept with players and coaches. His short, precise, left-handed signals.

Basketball's angry man mellowed in recent years. The quick temper had been tempered. His arguments with the league were less frequent. He even had kind words for Stern.

About seven years ago, a close friend, Walt Peters, was dying. Cancer had spread from his throat to his brain. Peters, an NFL official for 18 years, was bedridden in the psychiatric ward of the University of Pennsylvania hospital. Strom and wife Yvonne visited Peters.

``Walt couldn't speak. His head hurt so bad,'' Strom said, beginning to cry. ``Yvonne was holding him, helping him rub his head. He got a piece of paper and scribbled a note. It was barely discernible, but I was able to read it.

``He wrote, `I'll never get to the Super Bowl.' I thought to myself, how important is officiating, anyway?

``That experience changed my whole life. From that point on, I told myself that this game was not going to get me. I've got more important things in my life than refereeing a basketball game. From that point on, I tried to mellow out.''

His last call, like many of his calls over the past 32 years, was controversial, but correct. Strom waved a three-point heave by Danny Young, Portland guard, that would have sent Game 4 into overtime.

``I wanted to get the game ball,'' Strom said. ``But when all the tumult occurred after the game, I figured, `I better run for my life and I'll try to buy a ball somewhere.' ''

Later, Portland trainer Mike Shimensky gave Strom the game ball he deserved. It was one of many small thank-yous for a man who has meant so much to this grand game.