It’s been almost a year since the legendary Jake O’Donnell officiated his last game. It was strange not seeing him in the NBA Finals last year — the first time in 23 years he wasn’t there. He was at the top of the mountain yet stepped off it quietly and faded into the horizon. Why did he quit?
Jake O’Donnell did not retire because of his infamous run-in with Clyde Drexler. Or the way the league buried him in its wake. Or his disdain for Darell Garretson. Or his lost respect for Rod Thorn. Or his disgust with the NBA’s cookie-cutter referee philosophy. Or this season’s lockout. Or the new referees’ contract with the league. Or any other reason conspiracy buffs have speculated about since his surprise retirement last year ended his reign as one of the best NBA referees in history.
Jake O’Donnell, 59, says he retired because of his son, Jimmy. The orphanage, the odd jobs, the Scanlans, the divorce — they all played a part. Within the next few pages, you’re going to learn about Jimmy and Jake. Then you’ll understand why Jake is gone.
Jimmy and Jake
Jimmy is a typical sleep-late 15-year-old. He’s a bit shy and uncomfortable around strangers. Some baby-fat leads you to believe he’s got some growing to do.
Today, Jimmy is a typical teenager in at least one other way: His father, Jake, and his mother, Ann, divorced in 1990. With Jake flying around the country half the year, Jimmy didn’t see much of his father even when they lived in the same house. After Jake was gone, Jimmy saw even less of him. Jake says that’s because Ann didn’t like him spending time with her son. Jake’s travels didn’t help either. Jimmy entered those trying teenage years essentially without a father.
Jake knows what that’s like firsthand. Jake does not know who his father is. Jake — known as Jimmy as a boy — was born to an unwed mother who couldn’t afford to keep him. For his first 14 years, Jimmy “raised himself” in an orphanage. He had ample opportunity to feel sorry for himself, but says he didn’t. Jimmy was a survivor. The combination of Catholic school discipline with Philadelphia street savvy made young Jimmy O’Donnell a fighter. He didn’t back down then; he doesn’t back down now.
At 13, while still living at the orphanage, Jimmy worked on a farm. He got up at 4 a.m. to milk cows and drive the tractors, even though he had to make sure the little kids he lived with went to the bathroom twice a night so they didn’t wet their beds. Hardworking churchgoers Charles and Dolores Scanlan owned that Clifton Heights, Pa., farm. They took a liking to Jimmy and invited the 14-year-old to their Christmas dinner. Jimmy never left. For the first time in his life, Jimmy had a home. Charles and Dolores became Dad and Mom.
For the most part, Jimmy followed the Scanlan’s strict household rules because he was grateful. “They treated me like I was one of theirs.” Still, Jimmy had to fight his way to respect on the street corners of Clifton Heights, a poor mill town just outside of Philly. “It was a very tough town,” he said. “We had a lot of Polish, we had Italians, we had Irish and it was a tough crowd. But once you got in with your crowd, there were no problems.”
Jimmy also earned respect on the basketball courts. “I was a tough, physical player,” he said. “Naturally, (the locals) didn’t want the new kid around. They found out that Jimmy O’Donnell was no pushover.” The playgrounds provided his later-famous nickname. The kids decided there were too many Jims. “Someone called me ‘Jake’ and the name stuck,” he says. “I liked it. It sounded tough.”
Jake didn’t attend high school. Instead, he worked odd jobs to help the Scanlans and their five other kids in their two-bedroom house. At 14, Jake paid $15 a week to the Scanlans for room and board. It was a small price to pay for a family. He later earned his G.E.D. (the equivalent to a high school diploma) through the U.S. Marine Corps, though he was still searching for a real career and a real identity. He wanted desperately to be somebody. That’s when officiating walked into his life.
The Start
One of Jake’s playground buddies umpired a bit and convinced Jake to give it a try, but only after Jake discovered umpires were paid $5 a game. At the time, Jake was making $44 working six days a week moving refrigerators. Working doubleheaders, Jake figured he’d make more money umpiring. The “career” began in 1962.
It’s hard to determine whether Jake really loved officiating at that time or just loved the money. The challenges and toughness spoke to him as a person; the money just made sense. He started refereeing CYO and church league basketball in 1963 and saved most of that money too.
Jake was a pretty good umpire. An older friend persuaded Jake to go after the major leagues. Jake said he didn’t have the $600 for the six-week umpire school and the friend offered to pay for it. Jake didn’t borrow anything from anyone, including the Scanlans. Was this his chance to make something of himself? Jake gave it a shot using the money he saved. He was 25 years old and scared to death. Was this his chance to finally be somebody?
In 1964, he attended Al Somers’ Umpire School in Daytona Beach, Fla. Though he worked hard during school sessions, the night life was appealing. Discipline went out the window and so did Jake. He’d sneak out his dorm room late at night to get a face full of Florida. Acknowledged as the top student, Jake said he graduated only number three in his class, marked down because of his escapades.
At the school’s closing banquet, Somers said about Jake, “He’s probably the most talented umpire that we’ve ever seen at our school. But you know of his night things and that he doesn’t like to listen to people.” Jake burned inside, stepped up to the microphone, accepted his little trophy and said, “Well, I’m going to give myself five years to make the big leagues. And I can say one thing: Al Somers, you never made the big leagues. I will make the big leagues.”
He did it. At the end of his first year, in the New York-Penn League (class A), the American League (AL) picked up his option, unheard of for a rookie. The AL hired Jake in 1968, five years removed from umpiring local games. That was his second professional officiating job.
When the AL hired Jake, he was already an NBA referee. While in his third year in minor league baseball, Jake was invited to an NBA tryout camp, kind of out of nowhere. The NBA was looking for professional people, someone knew Jake and he got invited. The league wanted to hire him, but asked him to quit baseball. Jake said no. A year later, the NBA decided baseball was not an obstacle and hired him for the 1967-68 season. He had only three years of basketball officiating experience, mostly at the high school JV level.
He continued both jobs through 1971. Then, Jake jumped quickly up the NBA ladder when the fledgling ABA stole several of the older league’s veterans. That created a scheduling conflict with the AL. NBA playoff games ran into spring training. When the AL wouldn’t let Jake report late, he quit, never looking back despite being offered the World Series that year. He returned to the sport that made him someone on the Clifton Heights playgrounds.
A Style From Yesteryear
Jake’s flamboyant style and outgoing manner vaulted him to success. His signals were expressive and the court was his theater. Watching Jake reminded NBA fans of other officiating legends like Mendy Rudolph, Richie Powers and Earl Strom. Players and coaches respected him because he didn’t take any crap from anyone, yet admitted when he made a mistake. No fear. No favors.
In a sadly ironic twist for Jake, the things that made him eventually drove him out of the game. Enter Darell Garretson. The pair started in the NBA in 1967-68. The similarities end there. To say their styles and attitudes differ is a drastic understatement.
When Garretson was named supervisor of officials in 1981, he became Jake’s boss and the differences between their styles forced conflict. Garretson wants conformity and robot-like mechanics that would make synchronized swimmers proud. Jake’s style: individualism within the team concept and expressiveness on the court.
Jake wasn’t forced to change his officiating style because he was Jake, the last of the untouchables. “The thing that’s left the NBA is that people can’t be themselves,” he said. “They want copycats. … I think officials should just be themselves and not worry about having the same mechanics as their supervisor had. I think you become a better official by being yourself and performing on the floor within your own personality.”
But while Garretson didn’t change Jake, Jake didn’t change Garretson either. Their vastly different styles were like a festering wound. Garretson was in charge; Jake was not. Jake’s the last of the old breed — there may never be another NBA officiating icon.
“(Garretson is) a person that wants to be powerful and always wants people to know he’s in charge,” said Jake. “He’s come down on certain people over the years because he feels threatened.” Jake said Garretson has yet to contact him regarding his retirement.
Jake was 58 when he retired after 28 NBA seasons. He walked away from a job that would have paid him $211,000, plus about $45,000 in playoff money this season. He can afford to do it because he’s a disciplined saver and a self-taught investor. A few investments paid off handsomely. The NBA severance package and pension help. Plus, NBA commissioner David Stern, who had a very close relationship with Jake, paid him an extra bonus. “It allows me to live as well as I’ve been living,” said Jake. “He did that out of respect for me. It was very good and I’m very happy about what he did.” Jake wouldn’t disclose the amount, but said it was well in excess of $25,000.
The Last Game
It’s a shame that Jake’s last game included the storied Drexler incident. Jake ejected the Houston Rockets star from a first-round playoff game, then never worked again. The fairy tale version would have had Jake working the Finals just as he had for 23 straight years. No Disney ending here. Instead, Jake’s career ended with questions and allegations.
The Rockets accused Jake of having it in for them. Yes, there was some history. Jake and Drexler hadn’t shaken hands at captains’ meetings since the 1992-93 season. Jake said it started when Drexler was a Portland Trail Blazer and whined in the papers about Jake after Portland lost the 1991-92 Finals to Chicago. Jake worked a game in Portland the next year. “Drexler walked up and told me, ‘If you say anything, I’ll knock the (expletive) out of you.’ I had no idea what it was about. Still don’t to this day.” Jake reported the incident to the league. Drexler was quietly fined $10,000 and sent a personal letter of apology to O’Donnell, all of which makes Drexler’s repeated denials of history with Jake curious at best.
Jake said he missed the call against Drexler in that final game, but called a technical foul when Drexler said to Jake, “What the (expletive) are you looking at?” Jake said, “I wouldn’t take that from anyone, especially him, even though I thought I’d missed it.” After the “T” Drexler charged Jake. Drexler’s ejection was immediate — Jake’s response to any player’s challenge.
Jake never worked again, though the league insisted that he was not “suspended.” Does that mean the league thought Jake purposely made calls against the Rockets? They weren’t saying. That was the problem. They weren’t saying anything. The NBA left Jake dangling and the media guessing.
At the league’s request, Jake flew to New York to discuss his calls in the Rockets game with NBA vice president of operations Rod Thorn and deputy commissioner Russ Granik. Before the meeting, Jake saw a tape of the foul call in question. Jake said he never got to admit he missed the call to Thorn because Thorn said, “Jake, you missed the first four calls of the game. It looked like you were really out to get Houston.” Jake said he was unprepared to talk about any other calls and couldn’t remember any of them because he only reviewed the Drexler play. Jake was stunned as Thorn removed him from that round of the playoffs. Houston advanced in the series and Jake stayed home. “Here I’m the top referee in the game,” he said. “Is it that they’re trying to show people that if we can do it to Jake O’Donnell, we can do it to anybody?” Later, Jake said he lost all respect for Thorn.
The little-known truth: Jake says he decided to call it quits long before the whining Rockets went after one of history’s best officials. In fact, Jake emphatically said the Drexler fiasco had no bearing on his decision. It just confirmed it was time to move on to the next phase of his life — fatherhood.
New Challenges
Jake never forgets where he came from and always goes back to his roots. He’s lived his life in black and white — little emotion and no looking back. It makes sense that Jake would sacrifice to get closer to his son, Jimmy. Retiring from the NBA is not a sacrifice. It’s Jake’s duty. He remembers being fatherless. That’s not for Jake’s Jimmy.
Early last summer while at his North Carolina cabin, Jake got a call from Jimmy. He wanted his father. Now. Jake picked him up and brought him to his new home. They bonded like never before. “I wanted to make his life a little bit better. … I didn’t want him to be in a situation like I was and he really didn’t have a father. … At that point, I knew I wanted to be with my son.”
No more Drexlers or Garretsons to tangle with. Jake’s living with Jimmy in Florida, building his family scrapbook one page at a time. Now the challenges include taking Jimmy to school and making sure there’s always food in the house (he eats like a typical 15-year-old, too). The hard-nosed, square-jawed Jake O’Donnell as Mr. Mom? He wouldn’t trade it for 23 more NBA Finals. Don’t worry about Jimmy O’Donnell. Either of them. They’ll tough it out together.
Bill Topp started as associate editor of Referee Magazine in 1991. He is now Referee Enterprises COO and President of NASO.
