I didn’t care if coaches got mad at me, they were usually cool about things and usually had reason to be upset.

But I couldn’t handle the parents. It didn’t matter what I called, someone would complain loudly. A kid could’ve taken 30 steps without dribbling, and if I called travel, I’d hear a “call it both ways”.

When someone confronted me in the parking lot after a game and accused me of being biased because of my religion (as if I can tell which players were LDS and which weren’t), that’s when I more or less quit. I reffed very few games after that.

Oh, and I was more or less done coaching when parents complained in Jr Jazz that I wasn’t playing their kid enough. When I played every kid almost the exact same amount of time. Or in city baseball league when our team lost every game by mercy rule (I’m sorry your kid sucks, I’m not the Mighty Ducks coach that magically transforms kids into Olympian’s.