Sports editor Jim Rossow has picked 12 of his favorite stories from 2009. The list includes Marcus Jackson's day-long visit with a team of Division I college football officials.

The News-Gazette was granted behind-the-scenes access to the officiating crew before, during and after last weekend's Illinois-Illinois State football game. Think all these guys do is show up Saturday afternoon and start dropping yellow hankies? Hardly. From meetings to film study, travel to evaluations, one thing's for certain .. These guys earn their stripes.

By MARCUS JACKSON

Kickoff is a little more than two hours away. Time for the jokes to stop and the focus to turn up in the Memorial Stadium locker room.

In one corner, Robert Davis lays out his uniform. Not far away, John Hayes lies on the carpeted floor, stretches his right hamstring, then the left.

In an adjacent room, Paul Engelberts sits in a chair, head in hands, visualizing the approaching contest.

In front of his locker, Bryan Neale begins to feel sick to his stomach. His backup, Rich Ristau, prepares himself in the event Neale has to sit out the game.

As the time continues to pass, everyone is in full uniform, game faces on.

A half-hour before kickoff, Ron Torbert, the leader, gathers the men in the middle of the locker room. Bobby Sagers, normally providing comic relief and handing out fist bumps, leads a group prayer.

"Let's go," one shouts afterward.

"One play at a time," says another.

"Let's make it happen."

The group exits the locker room together, walks through an orange tunnel on the west side of Memorial Stadium and onto the stadium's turf in front of an orange-clad Illini fan base, most of whom are still navigating toward their seats.

There are no cheers, no boos. Hardly anyone notices the men in stripes with yellow flags hanging from their waists.

No one really notices the officials until they start blowing whistles and throwing flags. Other than that, people don't know everything that goes into being an official in big-time college football.

There's travel, film study and evaluations. It's more than just three hours on the field on Saturdays.

It starts Friday. The seven members of the on-field crew, one alternate, two replay officials and the official timer come from all around the Midwest and meet in a different Big Ten city each week.

Referee Ron Torbert and his crew arrive in Champaign-Urbana in the early evening Sept. 11, the day before Illinois takes on Illinois State.

Torbert, who lives in suburban Detroit, arrives by airplane. Umpire Bryan Neale of Indianapolis and field judge Bobby Sagers of Cincinnati have driven themselves. Each checks into the Urbana Holiday Inn and congregates in the lobby. They dine together at Silver Creek before returning to the hotel for pregame meetings.

They gather outside of Room 143, a small conference room at the Holiday Inn. Once Torbert — in a red polo, jeans and flip flops — starts making his way down the hall with a leather briefcase strapped to his shoulder, the others enter the room greeted by a fist bump from Sagers.

"First rule, turn cell phones off," Sagers reminds everyone as the seven officials take their seats at an eight-seat table, joined by alternate official Rich Ristau.

First order of business is to watch previous week's film — yes, officials watch film, too. This crew officiated Michigan's win against Western Michigan on opening weekend.

Problem is, there is no TV, no DVD player. Torbert, the leader of the pack, calls the front desk to resolve the situation. It takes two calls, but he is assured a television will arrive shortly.

Meantime, Torbert collects expense reports from his crew so the Big Ten can issue reimbursements. Next, he hands out tickets for Saturday's game to members of the crew who will have visitors. Each official is allowed two tickets per game but may have additional tickets if the crew allotment isn't used. Torbert also takes ticket requests for next week's Ohio State-Toledo game that the crew is working.

Replay official Steve Beckman joins the meeting and explains the procedure for reviewing plays. Headsets, beepers and backup plans in case the technology fails are covered. Beckman reminds the men which plays are reviewable and which are not.

The television arrives and is set up by a member of the hotel staff. But for whatever reason, Torbert can't get his DVD of the Michigan-Western Michigan game to play.

"How about you guys loan me $800 so I can buy a projector and we don't have to worry about this stuff," Torbert says to the crew.

No worries. The tech-savvy Neale has a portable DVR that he connects to the TV while Torbert hands out folders containing the previous week's evaluations from the Big Ten office.

Torbert reports that during the weekly referee conference call that head of officials Bill Carollo "was pleased" and said things "went well." Torbert reports that while there were some minor issues leaguewide, such as coaches creeping too far onto the field, he didn't see that as a problem with his crew.

The officials — each armed with 3-inch-thick binders — read the report from last week's contest and watch a replay thanks to Neale's DVR contraption. They discuss what they saw and why they threw a flag.

"That was a good call, he pulled him to the ground," one official says to another while watching a holding call.

On another play, a flag is thrown, and before Torbert announces the call, ESPN announcer Mike Patrick guesses on the broadcast the call might be an illegal block in the back.

"I love how they just guess," Torbert says.

The call was holding.

Even a few plays where there weren't flags thrown are reviewed.

"It looked like there might be a hold there, but I think he just overpowered his guy," Neale says on a play that looked like holding could be called.

"He definitely overpowered him," head linesman Robert Davis agrees.

Film review ends a few minutes after 10 p.m. Torbert, the leader of the crew, wants to make sure no one is afraid to question a call he makes if they think he is wrong.

"The most important thing is to get it right, to maintain credibility," he tells them. "If you see me going downhill as a train wreck, bail me out. I'll buy you ice cream."

This is Torbert's first year as referee, but he and most of the crew were together the previous season. And most of them would get together for ice cream after Friday night's meeting.

"It's kind of a tradition but not really," he said. "I don't know how it got started, but it's just something we do."

Six guys pile into Neale's Acura SUV and make the short trip to Dairy Queen at about 10:30 p.m. "You sure you know where you're going?" Torbert asks Neale. "Yeah, I've got it," he responds.

It's Blizzards all around and somehow Torbert gets talked into paying for it all.

At the table, while enjoying their frozen treats, the guys can't help but talk more football. Soon the talk shifts from officiating mechanics to uniforms. All members of the staff must be dressed the same, except referee Torbert's white cap (the others are black). So if one guy wears sleeves, they all do.

"Here's the deal," Torbert says, "if the first number (in the temperature) is a 5, I'm wearing sleeves. I don't care what the second number is. Deal?"

All agree. At 11 p.m. the crew calls it a night.

At 8 a.m. Saturday — 10 hours before kickoff — the crew heads to Cracker Barrel for breakfast and football talk.

"Is Michigan still using four quarterbacks?"

"Does Ohio State have a chance against USC?"

Then the topics change.

Torbert is vice president and a lawyer for Barton Malow, a Michigan-based construction company. He talks about a recent business trip to Richmond, Va., where a majority of the time was spent in a courtroom. He provides a few details about the proceedings.

"Fun stuff," line judge Paul Engelberts quips while devouring a stack of pancakes hidden by massive amounts of whipped cream and strawberries.

"How are you going to get up and down the field tonight after eating all that?" someone asks. "You need to be light on your feet."

Davis, who lives in Pennsylvania, wants to talk about how much of a hassle parking in Philadelphia is.

"Don't mess with Philadelphia, they'll tow your car in a heartbeat and they want $500 to get it back," he said.

After breakfast it's back to Room 143 for more meetings and what's supposed to be another film session. The plan is to watch video on Illinois and Illinois State. But technical difficulties don't allow it.

Most of the crew watched some of Illinois' opener against Missouri.

"They throw a lot of short passes but don't take any shots down the field."

This is important because on some short passes linemen could be flagged for being an ineligible receiver downfield.

The crew talks about the proper way to approach a call it might not be sure about.

"If in doubt, throw the flag," Torbert says. "We can always get together to talk about it. I'd rather have a flag come out than not throw one at all or throw a really late one. It looks really bad when we do that. We can always talk it over and pick the flag up."

Beckman, the replay official, rejoins the group and covers more last-minute replay scenarios, even throwing a few out there to quiz the guys. Beckman ends it by saying, "I hope none of this happens. I just want to watch this week."

At 11 a.m., everyone is free to go. Shuttle to the stadium leaves in four hours.

Torbert relaxes in his room. He plops down in the leather desk chair in his room and finds a college football game on the 27-inch flat screen.

He flips back and forth between Northwestern-Eastern Michigan, Wisconsin-Fresno State and Iowa-Iowa State. Torbert doesn't watch the games like a typical fan. For the most part, he's watching the officials.

"I know these guys," he says. "I like to watch their mechanics and see how they work."

He tells the story of how he got into officiating in the late 1980s, shortly after graduating from Harvard Law School.

A co-worker at the law firm he had just joined took another job and couldn't maintain his position on a high school officiating crew, so he asked Torbert if he'd like to replace him.

"I didn't play football — I love football but I didn't play in high school or college," Torbert said. "I watched it and was a huge fan of it but never thought about officiating it, and he asked me if I would take his spot, and I thought it might be fun. The following year I became a high school official.

"After about five or six years of working high school, the crew that I was on started getting better games at bigger schools and I loved the challenge of working at bigger schools with better players and then I started to wonder about what it would be like to work at the next level.

"So I asked around to find out how to get into college officiating and joining the college officials' study group. I went to a couple of college officiating camps, and someone from a Division II conference that's based in Michigan saw me and called me up and offered me a position."

Torbert spent five years officiating at the Division II level before entering Division I in the Mid-American Conference. He is now in his fourth season in the Big Ten and his first as a full-time referee.

Torbert estimates he puts in about 25 to 35 hours a week with officiating duties, not including game day.

There is film study, an officials study group that Torbert belongs to and his responsibility to get information about the coming week's game to his crew. For all their time and work, the officials are paid about $1,000 per game, with the referee making about 10 percent more for handling all the administrative tasks.

"You can't make a living or feed a family off of it, but the money is not why we do it," Torbert said.

Balancing a home life — Torbert is married with a 17-year-old daughter and a 23-year-old son — work life and an officiating life is not easy.

"I'm fortunate that my employer is real understanding," he says. "The owner of our company loves college football, and he's fascinated by what I do so he doesn't mind the fact that I'm gone every Friday."

How about justifying all the time away from home with the wife?

"My wife understands that come July probably to December that this is going to take up a lot of my time," Torbert said. "She understands that this is important to me and how much I enjoy doing it, and she's very understanding.

"We made a deal a long time ago that she's not going to see a whole lot of me during the football season, but the rest of the year I make up for it."

Torbert has good ears.

"It doesn't bother me at all," he said. "Getting criticism from fans doesn't bother me nearly as much as from other officials. Fans are fans. They're important to the game. It wouldn't be as much fun for me if the fans weren't there. They don't study the rule book as much as we do. They don't study film as much as we do, so I know they don't know as much.

"If you're gonna stay in this business long enough, you've got to develop a thick skin."

Officials hear things about manipulating the outcomes of games. Or "That was a makeup call."

Those strike a nerve with Torbert.

Officials' integrity has been questioned in the wake of former NBA official Tim Donaghy's conviction in a betting scandal.

"That was disappointing for a lot of people," Torbert said.

"The conference makes it very clear to us as far as their expectations with gambling," Torbert said. "We're not allowed to wager on any sporting events at any level; we understand that. We're not allowed to go to any casinos during the season; we understand that. I don't look at the newspapers to see what the point spreads are. It really doesn't interest me."

Names of the officials are withheld from the public prior to game time in an effort to maintain a low profile. The officials know what weekends they are working throughout the season but don't find out what games they'll be working until about three weeks ahead of time, according to Bill Carollo, the Midwest Football Officials Alliance coordinator of football officials. That's done to allow them to make travel arrangements. The officials keep that information to themselves, but it's not so secret that they have to check into hotels under a different name.

After lunch, Torbert changes into a suit and double-checks his suitcase with an NCAA logo and his initials "RJT" stitched on it to make sure he has everything he'll need.

In the hotel lobby, the crew appears as if it's headed to a business meeting and not a football game.

Edgar Brummett from the University of Illinois DIA arrives in a 15-seat shuttle to drive the crew to Memorial Stadium at 3 p.m. Brummett also will serve as the on-field replay assistant.

After a 10-minute drive, the crew is greeted by state police and a German shepherd that will sniff the bags as part of a security check.

Torbert, Beckman and replay communicator William Simons find the Big Ten Network's production truck at about 3:25 p.m. to touch base with producer Terry Ewert about replays and commercial breaks.

There are three sections to the locker room: main area, which houses six traditional lockers; the shower; and an extra-large carpeted bathroom. Davis, Neale and Sagers occupy the locker space. Ristau, the alternate, sets up shop near them.

Torbert, Hayes, Engelberts and back judge Scott Buchanan — the quiet guy in the group — take over the bathroom space.

Buchanan checks the pressure of the footballs Illinois equipment manager Trent Chesnut provides to make sure they are set at 11.5 to 13.5 psi. He then scribbles an "x" with a blue Sharpie to make sure they know the balls are approved. Sitting next to Buchanan is Torbert, polishing his black and white Reebok shoes.

Official timer Paul Whiteside, who is changing into his game-day outfit, jokes that his half-naked body is one that men fear and women love. This sends the crew into an uproar. Then the locker room grows quiet. Neale isn't feeling well and he fears he might have caught the stomach flu from his kids.

Sagers, a former minor leaguer in the Montreal Expos' organization, compares the moments before officiating a game to a dugout before a baseball game.

"There's a time to joke and have fun, but when it's time to perform and go between those lines, you better be ready," he says. "If you're not ready in a baseball game, you're not gonna play. If I'm not ready here, I'm not gonna have a job."

Torbert and Neale, as the referee and umpire, respectively, head toward the Illinois locker room to meet with coach Ron Zook. Zook provides them with the names and numbers of his captains and the Get Back coach — the coach who is responsible for making sure players and coaches clear the space between the field and the sideline.

"Lou Hernandez," Zook says. "The guy with the big arms."

They ask the coach if his team has any unusual plays or formations they need to be aware of; the swinging-gate PAT formation and an occasional unbalanced line are discussed.

Torbert and Neale seek out Chesnut for an equipment primer. Chesnut informs them that all Illinois players wearing visors have clear visors and no one is wearing a cast. The officials ask that Chesnut make sure all the players have their knees covered.

"You help us, we'll help you," Neale says, meaning they'll give a warning or two before they penalize the Illini.

Finally, Torbert and Neale touch base with the training staff to ask about any injuries they need to be aware of. Neale scores antacids for his upset stomach. In an effort to look tough, he tells the cooperating trainer that one of his partners isn't feeling well and needs them. He and Torbert find humor in this.

The duo heads to the Illinois State locker room where first-year coach Brock Spack asks the officials to protect his freshman quarterback who is making his first career start.

Torbert & Co. take the field 20 minutes before kickoff and pose for a group photo. Afterward the crew takes a lap around the field while the bands perform, bumping fists as they pass one another. As the Marching Illini play the national anthem, Torbert stands at the 50-yard line next to Buchanan with his head bowed and hat covering his heart. The two share a man hug after the anthem, and Torbert conducts the coin toss at midfield.

Illinois kicks off to Illinois State, and a flag is thrown on the opening kickoff. The Redbirds are whistled for an illegal block below the waist.

When asked about the call, Torbert rolls his eyes. "It was a good call, but I was just thinking, this is going to be a long game," Torbert said.

There isn't much reaction to any calls in the first half, save for a holding call on Illinois that negated a Jason Ford touchdown run. The crowd boos loudly, and a small portion of the students chants an obscenity. But they're back on the officials' side after a 15-yard roughing-the-punter penalty gives Illinois a first down.

At halftime, the officials hold the Illinois players to their side of the field while Illinois State exits. Once inside the locker room, Torbert checks his watch against the digital countdown clock that lets them know how much time is left before the second half.

The crew talks about the first half and is generally pleased with its performance. They talk about Neale's illness and joke that he has swine flu. They're loose again and ready for the second half to start.

The crew throws a flag for intentional grounding in the second half, but after a short conference, decides to wave it off. Illinois receiver A.J. Jenkins is flagged by Sagers for a personal foul in the fourth quarter after shoving an Illinois State player near the face after the whistle. It looks as though he could have been justified in being ejected, but Sagers said, "He didn't throw a punch."

From time to time throughout the game, an official might have a short talk with a player to tell him to clean it up, or to get back to the huddle. Most of the time, there aren't any issues with the players.

"They're very respectful," Neale said. "It's an emotional game, but they understand we have a job to do and they get it."

The game ends at 9:09 p.m., the crew missing its self-imposed three-hour time limit after the 6:02 kickoff.

"Both teams threw the ball a lot, and that stops the clock quite a bit," Torbert said. "There were a couple of injuries, too. We'll take 3 hours and 7 minutes."

Back in the locker room, the crew meets behind closed doors for a cooling-off session of about 10 minutes. Man hugs and fist bumps all around for a job well done. Torbert removes his microphone, and everyone else removes his replay buzzers and tosses them into a plastic bag to be collected by Illinois. Beckman got his wish and he simply got to watch the game. There were no plays that required review.

While undressing, the crew charts every one of the 20 penalties called as part of its postgame report.

After a shower and a change of clothes, they board the shuttle for the hotel, but not before Brummett provides Torbert with DVD copies of the game.

Torbert is taking some good-natured ribbing from his partners for being the last one dressed.

On the shuttle, Torbert is summoned to order pizzas for the group, but not all will be around. Neale is driving to Indianapolis once he gets off the shuttle, Davis has an early flight and is going to bed early. In his room, Torbert changes into jeans and a T-shirt and heads to the lobby. The next order of business is to secure the conference room to complete the postgame official report to be submitted to the Big Ten. It must be done by noon Sunday, with grades sent out to all the crew shortly thereafter.

Engelberts, who will fly to the Detroit area with Torbert and Hayes early Sunday, sets up the TV in the conference room to watch the Purdue-Oregon game. Engelberts asks Torbert if he ordered the pizzas.

"I left the number and the phone in my room," Torbert says while trying to connect his notebook computer to the Internet.

He secures the number and calls Monical's, but it's no longer delivering at 11 p.m. The restaurant in the hotel is no longer serving, so Engelberts gets his hands on a flyer for Prime Time Pizza while Torbert enters the penalty data into the online official report.

The pizzas arrive as logistics for next week's Ohio State-Toledo game in Cleveland are discussed, the conversation lasting past midnight when crew members head to their rooms. A 6:20 a.m. flight Sunday isn't far away.

It's finally over — until next week, that is.

At IlliniHQ.com

For a slideshow of photos, check out our Web site.