LAS VEGAS -- The job description never wavers: Stride into a building where thousands of screeching strangers are predisposed to loathe you -- even though they have never met you and often don't know your name. You cannot blend in, attempt to be inconspicuous, because that's counterintuitive to the job at hand, which is to resolutely wear the trademark stripes of a referee and maintain order in a hotly contested, highly charged NBA game.
This must be achieved while enraged fans spew venom about your mother, your face, your body, your sexuality, your profession. Coaches will bait you, players will defy you.