There are some games with situations that you never forget.

It was a junior varsity basketball game at Saginaw Buena Vista against Ecorse.

Buena Vista usually had some talented players, and Ecorse, from the Detroit area, I assumed would also be pretty good.

The game wasn’t memorable, but an event during the game was.

I was the lead official, running south down the sideline, and, as I crossed the centerline, I saw on the opposite side of the court at least 20 teens wearing red T-shirts running north right on the basketball court. They were being chased by several police officers.

I blew my whistle, stopping the play, asked for the basketball, and ordered the players to go to their benches.

The players were great. They did exactly what I asked.

My partner and I stood on the baseline and waited until the teens were corralled and under police control.

I discovered that the “red shirts” were a Saginaw gang. If I remember correctly, they called themselves the 4th Street Posse. They were coming to Buena Vista to cause some commotion.

They did, the police took care of it, and the game went on.

Sometimes (not often), the fans can make a game enjoyable, even if they didn’t plan it that way.

It was a varsity basketball game at Harrison, in the Jack Pine league. The opponent was the school 12 miles down the road in Clare.

Obviously, they were big rivals.

The gym was packed. One side was all in Clare green colors, and the other side was the home crowd.

From the opening jump ball, every whistle was greeted with cheers from one side of the gym and boos from the other. It lasted the entire game.

My partner was a gruff, old, retired Marine, Ed Whitfield, and it was difficult for the two of us not to laugh. We knew that, whenever we called a foul, half the gym would boo and half would cheer. Whether the call was correct or not made no difference.

Sometimes, the coaches are easy to get along with. Sometimes, they are not.

One of the worst, who shall remain nameless, was very successful coaching both football and basketball. He was so successful in football that the school named the football field after him.

This was supposed to be a total basketball column, but I have two stories about that coach. Let’s call him Sam. One story is about basketball, and one is about football.

First, the football story.

We had a substitute official, Phil, on our crew for the game. He was a rookie, but a good official.

It seems that Phil had attended elementary school in Sam’s school system and that Sam knew him. And, to make it worse, Phil’s position was on Sam’s sideline.

Even before the game started, Sam was in Phil’s ear: “I though we got good officials for our games,” and, “How did you get this job, rookie?,” and, “You better not make any mistakes.”

Phil managed to get through the game and a few years later was selected to officiate in the playoffs. Seems he was a pretty good official.

Here is the second story with that same coach.

It was basketball.

It was the district finals being played at Reese, and that coach’s team was playing Saginaw Carrollton.

One of Carrollton’s players in that game was Chip DeGrace, someone who I mentioned in an earlier column who is a neighbor of mine at Hubbard Lake.

But I digress.

Sam’s team had a star guard that scored lots of points.

Carrollton’s coach was Ron Vondette. Ron once took Carrollton to the state finals, only to lose to perennial Class B champion River Rouge.

Coach Vondette set up a defense to neutralize Coach Sam’s star, and it worked. Carrollton won a close game.

The bad thing was that our dressing room was in the coach’s office of the locker room where Sam’s team showered. We had to walk through the team to get to our room.

We entered the locker room and Sam started in on us, yelling loudly — and he could yell really loud.

“You see these kids? You cost them the game. You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

There was a window from the office where we showered and dressed that looked out to the locker room.

We took verbal abuse the entire time we were getting changed.

Les Miller, of Hubbard Lake, has retired after 53 years officiating multiple sports around Michigan. He can be reached at theoldref@yahoo.com.