Veteran official Gene Steratore is wed to his whistle

Gene Steratore was 11 years old when he stood on the field at old JFK Stadium in Philadelphia for the 1974 Army-Navy football game.

College football games were a big part of his youth, and that Saturday afternoon remains vivid four decades later.

Steratore remembers standing next to the Navy mascot, Bill the Goat, as President Gerald Ford switched sidelines to watch the second half with the Army cadets.

He was mesmerized, his eyes glued to the field. He couldn't take his eyes off the man.

No, not the president. His dad, also named Gene, was a member of the officiating crew that day.

His father officiated Division I college football and basketball for 30 years. He often brought his seven kids along on trips in lieu of family vacations.

Many of Steratore's childhood memories revolve around Princeton football games, Army-Navy, Harvard-Yale, Michigan-Notre Dame, weekends in Happy Valley.

He isn't sure how his father got him into all those stadiums, just that he did, and he often had a bird's-eye view of his father in action.

"That was the drive," Steratore says.

The drive to be where he is today, working as an NFL referee and a college basketball official, a duel role that makes him unique in the world of human zebras.

Steratore has worked as an NFL referee the past decade. He might be the second-most recognizable white hat in the NFL — behind muscleman Ed Hochuli.

His quasi-fame is a byproduct of the NFL's popularity, social media and his involvement in several high-profile controversies. The Calvin Johnson (non) catch, the Dez Bryant (non) catch and the New England Patriots inadvertent whistle all happened on his watch.

The visibility of his NFL job often spills into his basketball gig. He walked onto the court before a basketball game at Penn State last season, looked into the crowd and saw a man holding a sign that said, "Dez caught the ball."

"It's on my Wikipedia page for the rest of my life," he says of his controversial overturn of a critical Bryant catch in the Dallas Cowboys' loss to the Green Bay Packers in the 2014 playoffs.

"I get why people say it is [a catch]," he continues. "But I also know that where I'm viewed from — not the public but the people that pay me — and the game itself, I'm correct. Now, the guy at the deli will tell me he still caught it."

Steratore played football and basketball in high school and was on Kent State's football roster for two years, but officiating was a family business that sucked him in.

He got his first taste as a 13-year-old growing up on the outskirts of Pittsburgh. He worked fifth-grade basketball games at the YMCA, eight hours every Saturday, earning $1 per game and all the chocolate Yoo-hoos he could drink.

Veteran NFL referees make around $200,00 per season, and top-tier college basketball referees earn around $2,000 per game.

Steratore estimates spending 25-30 hours each week during football season on his NFL duties. He officiates around 50 basketball games each season, usually twice a week during football season before flying to an NFL city for a Sunday assignment.

That begs an obvious question: Why does he do both?

Better yet: How does he do both? Especially since Steratore also owns a janitorial supply company in Pennsylvania.

"When I am officiating both sports," he says, "I have more time to devote to my officiating than if I were home running my company."

"I'm sitting from 10:30 a.m. until 5 p.m. completely uninterrupted," he says.

He pauses.

"I don't know unless you live what I do if you can put your arms around the fact that there's no way you can be dealing with Izzo and Pitino on Wednesday night and be dealing with Belichick and Harbaugh on Sunday. That's why I do it. Too many people are saying you can't do it."

Steratore describes NFL officiating as a production; his task is to make sure the performance runs as smoothly as possible. Officiating basketball makes him feel more like an independent contractor with a blur of airports, arenas and hotels.

Human interaction can be an occupational hazard for officials, thanks to social media. Steratore feels chained to hotel rooms because technology, he says, makes every person a possible reporter. Never much of a drinker, he avoids hotel bars.

He brought his own children to games with him over the years. They knew better than to make comments about individual players to their dad in public, especially in a crowded airport terminal.

"You don't know if somebody behind you has pressed 'record,' " he says. "It's the world we live in."

The job has taken a toll on his body, too. Steratore has dealt with back issues for 20 years. He keeps himself in shape by adhering to a strict workout and diet regimen.

He exercises 90 minutes every day, except for a three-week stretch after basketball season when he does nothing.

Steratore joked that as an Italian kid he ate spaghetti four days a week. Not anymore.

Lunch consists of two eggs with a piece of wheat toast, orange juice and a midafternoon protein shake.

He eats a piece of chicken, fish and a vegetable for dinner.

"If I really want to cheat," he says, "I'll have rice."

Eating healthy and staying in shape enables him to keep his mind sharp. That's the biggest challenge as he ages in a job that requires him to keep pace with some of the world's best athletes.

"That's the internal push," he says.

Steratore received his promotion to NFL referee in 2006. He was overjoyed to learn that Tony had been assigned to his crew.

Gene called his parents to share the news. He heard silence on the other end after he told his mother that Tony would be his back judge.

"What if you overturn Tony on instant replay?" she finally asked.

Gene reminded her that Tony had just worked the Super Bowl so he's considered one of the best in the business. And besides, how could he overturn a big brother who used to beat on him mercilessly as a kid?

And then …

The first one came on a long pass from Brett Favre to Donald Driver that Tony ruled incomplete. The play was reviewed. Gene saw right away that Driver somehow maintained possession on what should have been a touchdown.

As Gene left the replay hood before the TV broadcast returned from commercial, Tony asked for his decision. Gene walked onto the field without a word.

"The stare that I got from my older brother right then was priceless," he says. "I clicked that mike on and said the ruling of incomplete has been changed to touchdown."

Favre lifted Driver over his shoulder on the sideline and later told reporters the overturn was "nothing short of a miracle."

During the next commercial, the Steratores "had a little brother thing right there," Gene says. "I remember some players — I always think Favre was there because he probably was — saying this was the first time they've ever seen officials fight on the field."

"They were the greatest three years of my officiating career in any sport," Steratore says.

The two brothers still co-own Steratore Sanitary Supply, which they founded 28 years ago.

Naming a favorite memory as an official is easy for Steratore — his first game back after the 2012 NFL lockout of officials. He worked the Baltimore-Cleveland game on Thursday night.

His crew received a loud ovation as they walked onto the field, leaving Steratore emotional.

"It was nothing that you could ever plan for," he says. "After the first two or three calls, they hated you again and life was back to normal."

"I hear people say so many times, 'I don't know how this guy can live with himself. He put himself into the game and missed a call that decided the game,' " he says. "It's our culture. That's OK.

"You want the pressure of knowing that, if I'm not on my game perfectly, the chance of something happening within one second can destroy this entire day and possibly it can be a play that you live with the rest of your life — whether you're right or wrong."

Just check his Wikipedia page.