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MIKE EAVES is mad, and he should be.
The UW-Madison men's hockey team lost a game last weekend when a referee incorrectly disallowed a Badger goal that tied the game at the last second. The referee misinterpreted a video review of the goal, and Denver won the game, 3-2.
The Western Collegiate Hockey Association admitted an error was made, but late this week refused UW's appeal to have the outcome changed to a 3-3 tie.
Eaves, the men's hockey head coach, said: "To say that there clearly was a wrong and we're just going to live with it? Is that right? We just accept that and move forward? It's backwards to just accept that for what it is."
The episode is bad enough that it just may go down as the second most egregious referee's mistake in the annals of University of Wisconsin athletics. But as bad as it was, the disallowed goal in Denver is a distant second.
The worst instance of a UW athlete being hosed by a referee's mistake involved a potential national championship. It kept a Badger from having an undefeated career. I wrote about it in my book on UW varsity boxing, and I still find it hard to believe it actually happened.
The 1940 NCAA boxing tournament was held in California, at the Memorial Auditorium in Sacramento. The Badger team, which had won four individual titles in demolishing the competition at the 1939 tournament (held at the Field House in Madison), took the train to California. Head coach John Walsh utilized a baggage car to hold workouts on the trip west. Twice -- in North Platte, Neb., and Ogden, Utah -- the team was able to leave the train for brief outdoor drills.
The Badger star was Omar Crocker, the defending national champion at 145 pounds. When Crocker, who grew up in Michigan's Upper Peninsula, showed up on campus in 1938, State Journal sports editor Henry McCormick wrote of him: "This Crocker is dynamite. He hits harder for his size than any fighter I've ever seen."
Sportswriter Tom Butler said: "The collegiate boxing brass was afraid of Crocker. They were afraid something drastic might happen because he hit so hard."
The 1940 NCAA tournament would be Crocker's last hurrah as a college boxer. He'd already enlisted in the military (and would be wounded while serving in the South Pacific during World War II).
Crocker won his quarterfinal match on Thursday night. Crocker's semifinal bout Friday night was against Snyder Parham of Louisiana State.
Neither Madison newspaper had a reporter in Sacramento, but the State Journal had arranged for Wisconsin assistant coach Vern Woodward to file reports. His lead on the Crocker fight stunned Madison readers Saturday morning: "Omar Crocker of Wisconsin tasted defeat for the first time in his brilliant three-year intercollegiate boxing career here Friday night when he dropped a split decision to Snyder Parham of Louisiana State."
College bouts were three rounds. They were judged by three men: the referee in the ring and two judges at ringside. Each filled out a card at the end of the fight. That Friday night, one judge scored the fight for Parham. The referee scored the bout for Crocker.
That meant the score of the second judge, a man named Jack Downey, would break the tie and decide the outcome. The ring announcer looked at Downey's card, which indicated a Parham victory, and announced that Parham had prevailed.
The problem was this: Downey had meant to score the fight for Crocker, but had somehow written it wrong on his card. When the decision was announced, Downey had no way of knowing that the other scorers had split. Hearing Parham announced as the winner, Downey simply figured both of the others had gone against Crocker.
It was only hours later (after Woodward had filed his story), when the three officials spoke among themselves, that Downey learned the truth: The other judge and the referee had split, so Downey's deciding vote for Crocker should have given Crocker the victory. Except that Downey had marked it wrong on his card, a fact he quickly made known to tournament officials.
The NCAA Boxing Rules Committee convened a hurried meeting. They emerged to say that the rule book was clear: The decision announced at ringside must stand. The statement did note for the record that Downey, "to his chagrin," had inadvertently scored for Parham "when in fact he meant to record a win for Crocker."
The Capital Times blared it across its page 1 top line: "Crocker WON But He LOST -- Judge Admits He Made a Mistake."
And that, incredibly, was that. No championship, no undefeated record for Omar Crocker.
One of the last things I did for my book was visit Crocker's grave at Forest Hill Cemetery. Tough as he was, Omar Crocker couldn't beat the cancer that ended his life in October 1956. He was 40.
Heard something Moe should know? Call 252-6446, write PO Box 8060, Madison, WI 53708, or e-mail dmoe@madison.com.