For the Love of the Game of Lacrosse - Becoming a Girls Lacrosse Referee

Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham - Referee for Girl’s Lacrosse Tournament June 2024

As I approached the field, with an energetic group of fourth and fifth-grade girls smiling widely carrying sticks almost as tall as their bodies, I knew I was in the right spot. I had been training for this moment. The subtle, or perhaps major, switch in plans to earn money on a lacrosse field was underway, and my passion was rising up.

You see, my father was a lacrosse player in college after transitioning from being a basketball-only player and my mother taught boy’s lacrosse after earning her bachelor’s degree in Physical Education in 1962, I started my love for lacrosse by scorekeeping for my Junior High School boy’s lacrosse team, and playing lacrosse against my garage door because there wasn’t a girl’s lacrosse team at my school in 1979. It all my sense.

Chuck Chamberlain (right) - SUNY Cortland Lacrosse Player 1960-1962

When my two sons were born, they had sports introduced to them at an early age because I was brought up that way. Our house already had a basketball net and court, a hill for sledding, a pond for ice skating and fishing on, and we were in a school district where lacrosse was home to men’s high school championship lacrosse - West Genesee High School. It made sense to introduce the sport to our boys. Our youngest played through to college and I loved watching him every game.

West Genesee Lacrosse Players - NYS Championship Game 2013 (Adam Higginbotham #18)

Since my sons only had friends with brothers, I never watched a girl’s lacrosse game. I assumed it was the same as the men’s game. So, when I decided I needed more sports in my life after my sons got married, I decided I wanted to referee lacrosse for girls, not boys. I was a long-time feminist and the need for more women in sports to inspire girls and other women, was foremost on my mind when I signed up for training.

I was a referee in college for mixed water polo and knew referees weren’t always loved by players, parents, and others watching from the sideline. But my job was to make sure the game was played by the rules, even when others didn’t agree with my calls. I still remember a water polo ball whizzing by my head one time, as I ejected a male player for unsportsmanlike conduct. I’ve respected referees ever since.

Erin Lehman (left) and Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham (right) - trying our hand at lacrosse refereeing

There I was age 59, on the lacrosse field, shadowing an experienced referee Thomas Owens, my instructor, helping me learn the rules while running – really fast running up and down the field, trying to keep my eyes on the ball or the little players running faster by me. “This is a really fast group of girls,” Tom told me as I tried to keep up. I said back, “I’ll have to give up my steady marathon training runs and add in sprints and backward running to do this job!”

Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham (left) and Victoria (right) current lacrosse college player - refereeing for first time

The two other women training with me were experienced in the girl’s game of lacrosse – one a former lacrosse player and coach of a travel team and the other a current college player. The only man training with us, was a women’s flag football, men’s football, and past men’s lacrosse referee so he knew much more than I did.  But there I was trying my best on a wide open, humid day, among sweet, yet tenacious girls playing their first games with enthusiasm.

Old habits of trying to encourage girls came up every time one of them looked disappointed or confused. I was reminded that referees are supposed to be there only to enforce the rules, not encourage players. “Hmm, maybe I should see what coaching is like then,” I thought knowing motivating and inspiring is built into my DNA.

I am glad I get to study more film and learn more rules, as well as shadow referee again this weekend before I feel confident enough to referee on my own. What I can share with you that I’ve learned from this training and experience is:

* Girls are as tough, and as skilled as boys, in this game, but like life, they are taught to play less aggressively and more politely, but they still love playing!
* Running stamina is a basic skill you need to referee this sport.
* Sharp eyes, a good memory, and quick responses are needed.
* Learning something new, associated with a past or current passion, is always a positive experience.
* Challenging oneself to higher or different levels of success is a must to remain mentally young and active.
* More women are needed in all areas of sports - even refereeing.

Sunday when I take the field for my third shadowing opportunity, I will know more of what I need to look for and do, and will make sure to continue to enjoy the exuberant faces of the elementary and middle school girls I’m watching because they are ultimately why I’m there getting involved.

Scott, Adam, and Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham - 2017 SU Club Lacrosse Tournament

Polar Plunging in Canada - Icy Hot Exhilarating Ritual

Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham in Magog Quebec Canada at her first (and not last) polar plunge. So refreshing!

A grey wooden building, with numerous extensions blocking the private back view, greeted us as we arrived in Magog, Quebec for another once-in-a-lifetime experience on my adventure bucket list. The sky was the color of a bluebird, light snow covered the differing-sized pines and birch trees, and a rushing river surrounded the quaint lodge. It was February break and instead of going south to palm trees and warmth, we headed north to our Canadian neighbor.

Dr. Jacob P. Chamberlain, Rory Shamlian, and Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham ready to polar plunge

My brother knew I was interested in polar plunging this winter and instead of freezing to death after plunging, he suggested trying a Nordic Station Spa with a thermal cycle built into one’s experience after the icy river. The Nordic Tradition, as the spa called it, is an ancestral ritual originating from Finland – also known as thermotherapy. In this ritual, a person alternates from hot, cold, and relaxation to reach a euphoric sense of wellness. The hot/cold cycle is repeated three times. 

Trying to temper my excitement to jump in the river first to try this new sport-of-sorts of polar plunging, I was instructed to bake in the sauna, then sit in a hot tub, and then cool off in the river or a cooler pool of water. As I sat in the sauna looking out at the frilly branches of a tree with a dazzling display of silver and white specks on top and falling from them, I relaxed a bit knowing the excitement was coming soon. When I was hot enough, I left the hothouse and headed down the outside stairs to the river.

Sure 32-degree water is cold, but I swim in Maine ocean waters, so it wasn’t alarming even though it was 30 degrees cooler. As I dropped my robe uncovered my bathing suit, took off my sandals, walked on the snow, and approached the icy edges of the river, I held onto the rope, dropped down into the current, let out a shrillful glee for 10 seconds, and got back up out of the river bed onto the snow and into my robe exhilarated. 

Letting the fun sink in!

Scampering off quickly from the shore with purplish toes, we headed for the hot whirlpool tub. Our bodies warmed and the sun hit our heads. Snow fell lightly from the trees, steam rose above the water and blocked the view of others in the tub, and that euphoric feeling overcame me. Where else would I want to be but here treating myself to both a daring, and relaxing way of Nordic life?

Following the thermal cycle, we went from saunas, into the Russian Banya, Steam Crypt, relaxation rooms, outdoor cool pools, hot tubs, and around again, even dunking into the river two more times, before three hours had gone by and we were ready to return our plush robes and head out for some poutine (another first) at Magog’s Winterfest.

A Sport of Stillness - Deer Hunting

Adam, Tracy and Scott Higginbotham - Opening Day Deer Hunting 2023

Sitting as still as a human being can, I peered into the depths of the woods in front of me as the sun rose. When you can’t speak, only listen and see, details pop into life bolder and livelier. We got to our perfectly scouted camp spot in the darkness of early morning with only the brightness of the moon and a few flashlights.

As sunbeams started to pierce the dark forest, I noticed things you wouldn’t typically notice unless you were in the woodland at 6 a.m. I was mesmerized by a tree sapling covered with moss changing differing hues of green as the sun hit it, by two droplets of dew hovering for dear life on a branch never falling or evaporating, and by the wind changing directions every twenty minutes rustling cinnamon-colored leaves on a small bush. I wondered, “Why does the wind change direction so often?”

Annually, I join my husband and sons on the opening day of deer hunting season, mostly to be with them since I’m not interested in shooting an animal, and to experience this mostly male ritual since being a female typically excludes you from learning to hunt. If I’m a feminist then I want to experience some of my life from a male perspective.

Tracy and Adam Higginbotham

As a four-point buck, so silent you didn’t hear him, walked into sight of our hunting blind, my son slowly lifted his gun for a shot, but before the blink of an eye, the super-keen-eared deer hopped up and over fallen trees through the forest until all we saw was his white tail rejoicing in winning the day. We were so close, and yet so far away, from hitting this superior creature aware of every single aspect of his surroundings.

As my son grumbled having not taken a shot, I sat for a moment thinking how hard it must have been for the pilgrims and Indians to forge for food. With so much ground to cover, with animals knowing their terrain better than humans, it is amazing there was food for the first Thanksgiving Day meal. I imagine I would have starved to death as an early pioneer woman if I had to rely solely on my hunting skills.

As the chilly day started coming to an end as the sun started to settle itself, my husband shot a doe. I got to experience the things that happen after a deer is shot - none of which I want to describe in my blog because it might be too sensitive for readers. But I was pleased I made it through another year of experiencing this ancient sport in the stillness of the woods surrounded by the abundance of nature, my son, and the lessons it taught me - that women can hunt too if they want.

Water Therapy - Stand Up Paddleboard Yoga

Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham of Women TIES and the Women’s Athletic Network trying out SUP Yoga

Lying flat on a board, a little wider than my body, I stared up at the deep blue sky with cotton clouds and put my hands in the warm Bay Creek river. Listening to the calming voice of our instructor, the ever-positive Lynne Boucher, five of us settled into the calm of a late August afternoon. Listening carefully the creek reeds jostled in the late summer breeze, the water rippled, birds chirping in the wild, and even far away traffic on the road leading to our destination tickled my eardrums. “Ah!” it was so worth the wait.

Hope Breen leading the way!

In business, as in life, you have to be patient sometimes. Due to bad weather, this was our third attempt trying Stand Up Paddleboard Yoga for my lifetime sports goal. Bobbing on SUP boards next to me were four willing women, all of whom were entrepreneurs ending their summer office hours in peace. We were all hesitant paddling out to the perfect spot in the creek until we got our feet under us and natural instincts took over.

I tried Stand Up Paddle board for the first time on St. John’s Island last year on much wilder waves. I fell in a few times but like a good sport got right back up and tried again until I felt comfortable on it. SUP isn’t a hard sport; it just takes time to settle your legs and knees into a balanced stance so you can comfortably paddle forward as waves move you along. It is like riding a bicycle in many ways, once you understand the balance, you can do it confidently.

The harder part of this SUP experience was anchoring your board and slowly doing yoga poses on this moveable floor. If yoga is one thing, it is slow movements, which lends itself to moving on a board in the water. Our instructor allowed us to do the poses we wanted at the degree of hardness we wanted to try. Almost all of us were able to do harder poses and none of us fell in the water.

Downward Doggin’ it during SUP Yoga.

My favorite time doing this sport was “playtime” when we could do anything we wanted including jumping up and down on the board if we dared. Oh, don’t dare me! I saw one of my members do it and the next thing I knew I launched myself in the air a number of times, again not falling in. I would have never thought I could do that when I first stepped off the dock onto the board. Confidence climbs.

As our beautiful, tranquil, and yet sometimes challenging time, came to an end all my guests and I thought it was such a wonderful experience.  A few of them said,

Christina Breen-Hale rocking SUP Yoga

Stacey Murphy readying herself for tree pose

“I was stressed thinking about trying this sport today, but it was so relaxing.”
“It was easier than I thought”
“Once you get your balance, it becomes second nature”

All quotes from the women who came and conquered.

Rucking it Up with Rugby

Uticuse Hellbenders Rugby Team Practice with Tracy

As I topped the tall hill, two flat playing fields (aka “pitches”) lay ready. Approaching the one with the two yellow goalposts on either end like the YouTube video I watched to prepare myself, I saw my cousin Paige, dressed in her former rugby cleats standing near an oblong football much bigger than a regular American football. I knew I was in the right spot to try rugby for the first time.

My first impression of rugby was at college when the men’s team would crazily be dancing around an Indian statue – their mascot of some sort – in a bar on a Friday night. My feeling was they weren’t crazy, but the sport they liked playing must be crazy because that is how they identified themselves as a team when games and practice weren’t in session. So, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect on a balmy May night on the “pitch” in Syracuse.

Like most of the team sports I’ve tried, practice started with simple passing and running drills. In the case of rugby where the ball is larger and is thrown in a unique spiral, getting my hands around it and trying it out was my first lesson. I wasn’t horrible at it since my father, a football coach, taught me how to throw a mean football spiral growing up. I could handle the throw and motion until the passing drills of running while throwing the ball in a timely order to teammates in a moving line sped up my work. And in rugby the ball must be thrown behind or to your side, not in front, so timing is essential to get down.

Once the throws and simple running drills were done, we practiced running more advanced sequences of drills of passing and pocketing behind a teammate repeatedly until we hit the other side. If anyone dropped the ball, a “half-moon” exercise was given to the team. I definitely contributed to the half-moon workout which was basically a burpee plus a half-squat turn in both directions upon standing – thus the soreness in my thighs today.

After practicing the offensive drills, we turned to defensive drills learning the importance of working in a line to stop the offensive players from coming through. This is where my age and lack of quickness slowed me down. Running forward is one thing, trying to run as fast as the offensive line trying to catch up with them was another. Thank God their full-body tackling exercises were last week. When asked if anyone has gotten really hurt tackling without pads, I heard a few horror stories but not as many as you’d think. “Tracy, the old girls play just touch and not tackle,” a few of them told me. Yeah, that might be where I belong, I thought if I wanted to continue playing.

As the hazy sun started setting after two hours of a really fun time, they took me over to the “scrum machine” to give me a taste of what a scrum feels like. A scrum is a method of restarting play in rugby football that involves players packing closely together with their heads down and attempting to gain possession of the ball. With two teammates on my side, we maneuvered into the machine for the feeling and a photo opportunity. This is where I knew for sure you must have strong legs for rugby.

Playing along with a team of great girls reminded me why I love all women communities because bonds develop quickly and you want them to linger. So, I accepted their invitation to a restaurant across the pitch for food and drinks. It’s there I learned more about a few of the players and enjoyed casual conversation. My cousin Paige said, “This happens after all rugby games – both teams coming together afterwards to share in the experience and getting to know each other.”  

As I said goodbye to my rugby pals, they handed me my own rugby ball to keep for practice and invited me back anytime to play with them. I told them I would join cheering them on at a special fundraiser they host annually for a cancer patient called “Ruck Cancer,” and perhaps rejoin them for another great night of running, passing, scrumming, and bonding on and off the field.

Trying a Triathlon - A Mini Version at R.I.T.

Hope Breen and Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham ready to hit the pool!

The cool refreshing water tingled my toes as they dipped in the pool. Of all the legs of this Mini-Triathlon, the swimming portion was the one I looked forward to most. As a long time swimmer and competitive one from junior high to high school, I hadn’t competed in a pool for forty years although I swim any chance I get in my own pool and the ocean. “7B” written in big black marker on my right hand told me I’d be on the left side of the lane sharing it with my younger friend, Hope Breen, a professional business woman and big time TikTok influencer. She was marked “7A” or “7-Awesome” in my mind for joining me.

This particular Mini-Triathlon meant we would swim 15 minutes as someone counted our laps. In the end, the number of laps would be added to the number of bike miles and running laps. “Go!” someone shouted and off we went. Swimming came back as natural as ever, and I was happily immersed in this portion of the race I couldn’t train for since it is March in Central New York. After 15 minutes, I completed 27 laps, not bad I thought hearing the person before me swam 20.

The hardest part of this race was changing from a wet bathing suit to biking/running gear in only 5 minutes. My chest just didn’t want to cooperate getting into a dry bra quick, getting tangled on my back. So what is a girl to do? I asked a random woman in the locker room to adjust it for me, “Sure, no problem!” Got to love women! Off I ran, to find the biking portion had already started.

Stationary Bikes in the middle of the track made for a smooth transition

Jumping on a stationary bike without time to adjust the speed, I biked much faster than I typically do which felt heavenly, I was speeding away to catch up. As the bike time counted down, I recorded 4 miles in less than 15 minutes which is longer than I thought. “Yes!” I said to Adriana Loh, the Spectrum News Reporter, taping my whole triathlon experience and interviewing me between legs.

Since the bikes sat in the middle of the track, no problem being late to run, so Hope and I lined up next to each other in our hot pink Women TIES shirts ready to run. Being a long time runner, Hope knew I would speed off at times only to come back around and walk/jog with her to catch my breath due to asthma. In the end, we finished together being cheered on by some lovely, energetic R.I.T. female college students. Giving them a big “W” with my fingers indicated “Women Rule,” I thanked them for their pink energy.

Just like in everyday life and business, a woman came up to me asking if I was a breast cancer survivor based on my obvious lack of hair due to Alopecia. She was a 25-year survivor of breast cancer which reminded me that my friend Teresa Huggins, had competed in a triathlon after losing a friend to the disease, just like I was doing for Teresa today. I knew she was looking down from heaven smiling at my turn to do a triathlon for her especially since the person who registered me at the front desk called me “Teresa” instead of “Tracy.” Divine messages from above.

The third leg of the triathlon is running right when your legs are burned.

I have come to believe that when women perform sports together, they bond in a very natural and deep way, due to the uniqueness of the sporting experience by overcoming anxiety and trepidation and empowering ourselves when the sport is over. Perhaps the best way to summarize what doing a Triathlon with another woman is bonding due to blood, sweat, and tears (and laughter and joy). You don’t get that sitting in a typical networking luncheon.

I am looking forward to trying another Triathlon and potentially joining my new Rochester Triathloners that I met at the event. Everywhere you go, people in sports are friendly and positive. Not only is trying a new sport exhilarating but addictive so I say to you “Give it a Tri!”