I attended a Big Ten basketball game in Bloomington, Ind., a few years ago where I was seated so close to the floor that I had to keep my feet pinned under my chair so I wouldn’t trip the referee as he raced up and down the court. The view from courtside left me with one shocking reaction: I no longer had any idea what was a foul.
There was banging, pushing, shoving, probably even tripping, but nary a whistle was blown by the officials. The disclaimer of “no-harm, no-foul” was truly enforced.
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