NCAA's newest Division I basketball ref: 'He shouldn't have made it here, but he prevailed'

INDIANAPOLIS -- Tarrell Willis shouldn't be standing on the court wearing black and white stripes looking up at the American flag with his hand on his chest and tears in his eyes as the national anthem plays before a Division I basketball game.

His mom is in the stands watching with tears in her eyes, and one of the legends of NCAA officiating is sitting behind her with tears in his eyes.

Bo Boroski, who officiated three straight Final Fours before hanging up his whistle to start a reffing business, made a promise to Willis' mom Shantel Ayres-Word.

He promised he would take care of her son, who moved to Indy to pursue his dream of one day becoming the modern day Boroski, of one day tossing the ball up at the NCAA championship game.

Willis is from Philadelphia. His mother and father were in prison by the time he was 12 months old. His two best friends were killed on the streets of a city he once thought was his entire world.

But a teacher, who Willis calls "an angel," pulled him aside in middle school after he'd gotten into a fight, and she looked at him, and she put it bluntly.

"You're going down the wrong path, and if you don't switch things now, you could be in some trouble that you can't get yourself out of," she told Willis. "And I don't want your future to go that way."

That angel introduced Willis to her husband, who was a high school basketball coach at a private Christian school far away from the world he was living in. Willis showed up to that high school, felt an unbelievable peace, and the life he knew disappeared.

"I thought my world was the blocks that I ran up and down, up and down on every day," said Willis, 28. "And just three hours outside of that was a beautiful place where you didn't have to worry about what people thought of you or if there was some animosity that somebody might have toward you or just be on defense. It was a place where I could relax and be myself and be quiet and not have people trying to take me into a negative space."

Willis isn't the dramatic type. He's calm, even when the coaches are yelling at him for a call he's made. He's analytical, a finance major in college. But the emotions, those are tough to hold back when he thinks about where he's been and how far he's come.

And at the center of everything good in his life has been basketball.

As Willis tossed the ball into the air at center court last month, as he raced toward the basket, as he blew his whistle and took control of the game between IU Indy and Long Island University, Willis was doing something that little boy in Philly never imagined he'd be doing -- officiating a Division I basketball game.

Willis is one of the newest refs in the DI officiating consortium that includes the Big Ten, MAC, Summit, Mountain West and Horizon League.

Before he took the court for his first DI game, Willis sat down and talked about his journey. His mom was with him, visiting from Philadelphia, crying, taking photos and thanking the good Lord that her son is not only OK, but he is thriving.

"The thing I love so much about Tarrell is that he prevails. He tries to look on the bright side of things," Ayres-Word said. "He shouldn't have made it here, but he prevailed."

'I know that it wasn't easy for him, but he made it look so easy'

When Willis was born at Temple University Hospital, his mom was 17. By 18, she had been sent to prison for seven and a half years for "some bad decisions" Ayres-Word says she doesn't want to talk about.

She was so young, and she has forgiven herself. Willis has forgiven her, too.

"He didn't grow up with people saying, 'Yes, you can go to college or you can do this.' The neighborhood we lived in wasn't the best," said Ayres-Word. "So for Tarrell to be where he is now, it was written for him to be where he is, and I know that it wasn't easy for him, but he made it look so easy."

It was Willis' best friend Kameron who convinced him and their other friend Reginald to give organized basketball a try. A couple teachers at their middle school had gotten together to form a team, but Willis had only played pickup on the streets.

"At that time, I was kind of a little skeptical. I enjoyed going home after school and playing with my friends on the playground and just being able to run around town and do whatever I wanted," he said. "My friend was kind of pushing us to do it. They pretty much said it would be a good time, be a part of something bigger than ourselves, and let's see what can happen."

What happened was Willis found himself a star on the middle school court. And, when he started getting into trouble off the court, it was basketball that was his ticket out, and everything changed.

That angel teacher's husband was a coach at Christopher Dock Mennonite Academy. She asked Willis if he would talk to her husband and think about going there. Willis knew it wasn't possible. There was no way his family had the money to send him to a private school.

Still, the coach persisted and came to watch Willis play, and he liked what he saw. He wanted Willis on the Dock Academy team. Willis wanted to be on that team too and, this time, Ayres-Word was not going to let her son down. She was going to make sure Willis got this chance.

Ayres-Word worked three jobs at a time paying for those four years of high school. She worked at a hair salon. She worked at a slaughterhouse where she cleaned cow parts. She worked at a parish cooking for priests. She worked at Dunkin' Donuts, and she worked at a car dealership in the service department.

"Wherever someone said, 'Shantel, we're paying, we're working, and it was legal,' I was there. I was going to pay for him to go to school," she said. "Because it was like, he deserves so much more. I wish I never went away. I wish I had trusted people, made better decisions."

Willis made sure his mom didn't regret the hard work she put in making sure he could go to Dock Academy. Every day for school, Willis had to get up at 4:30 a.m. to make the three-hour commute. He took two buses, a train and then a shuttle or taxi to school. He did the same thing on the way home.

He never complained. He never missed. Willis got himself up each day because he knew this was what he needed to make it out.

"It was like a whole new world had opened up for me," Willis said. "At that time, I had only seen probably a 20-mile radius of my apartment that I lived in with my grandma. So it was just like, 'Wow, I had never seen anything so peaceful.'"

For Ayres-Word, all she felt was pride. Pride that her son was moving in the right direction and taking a different path than the one she had.

"The things that I went through helped me try to prepare Tarrell to not be one of the young men of his friends to be dead or to be incarcerated," she said. "Tarrell has never been incarcerated. You know what I mean? He has no run-ins with the law. He is just a really good person."

'I just had a gut feeling about this kid'

During his time at Dock Academy, Willis' basketball prowess stood out, and it led him to Rosemont College where he played point guard and majored in accounting, finance and business management.

The darkness in his life had dissipated, it seemed, until he got that first call and another dark storm came his way. His best friend who had encouraged Willis to start this wonderful basketball journey was dead.

"Kameron was his best friend. I think he loved Kameron so much because Kameron never saw any wrong in him. Kameron was a beautiful, beautiful soul," Ayres-Word said. "Tarrell took that really hard because he had not been in touch with Kameron as much because their lives took different paths. Kameron, he was not a bad person at all, but he was still in the city doing this or whatever the case may be."

Not long after that, Reginald was killed on the streets of Philly. Another of Willis' best friends was gone. Ayres-Word had a picture of the three of them -- Tarrell, Kameron and Reginald -- hanging up in her house. She had to take it down.

"It's like, I watched these kids grow up, you know, and they were gone," she said. "And my baby is the last one standing. And he's standing strong."

Willis graduated from Rosemont and got a job at a property management company in the accounts receivable department. He started refereeing basketball at AAU games and tournaments. At one of those games, a coach approached him.

Willis recognized him as part of a group of older guys he'd seen playing pickup games at Rosemont. After the game, that coach asked if he'd join them the next day for a little basketball.

"And afterward, I went home, and I was like, 'Do I really want to go play with these older guys? I just got done playing against college athletes. Am I really going to go do that?'" said Willis. "And I kind of sat on it some more. And then I woke up the next morning, and something was telling me to go."

During those pickup games, Willis hit it off with a guy who found out Willis was interested in officiating. That guy happened to know Boroski and gave him a call. Then Boroski gave Willis a call.

The two talked basketball, and Boroski gave Willis tickets to a game he was reffing. But as they talked for a half hour -- a call that should have lasted a few minutes -- Boroski heard something in Willis.

"I was so impressed by him on the phone. I just had a gut feeling about this kid, just the way he talked to me, the way he communicated," said Boroski. "And he was a finance guy, and he loved officiating."

It just so happened, Boroski's company RefQuest was growing, and it was looking to hire a new finance person.

Willis sent his resume to Boroski, who flew him to Indy (his first plane ride) to meet with the RefQuest team. Everyone was "super impressed," said Boroski, including Dan Calandro who spent 15 years working for the NCAA, ending his time as director of playing rules and officiating.

As Calandro was checking Willis' references, he made to a call to Willis' college coach who at first was worried why someone would be calling about Willis. When he heard it was about a job, Calandro said he was overjoyed.

The coach was emotional on the phone and teared up as he called Willis "an amazing kid." After talking to that coach, Calandro told Boroski, "We can have a real impact to change the trajectory of this kid's future."

It was a unanimous decision to bring Willis onto the RefQuest team.

"So part of the deal was I would get a job there full time, but Bo would also mentor me and show me the ropes," said Willis, "and show me what to do and what not to do as far as trying to climb the ladder."

Trying to climb the officiating ladder to get on the court for college's biggest basketball games.

'I'll give you my word. I'll take care of him'

It's been three years since Willis made that move to Indy, which wasn't easy for his mom.

"When Tarrell first came out here, I wouldn't lie to you. I was afraid. I was afraid my Black son out here, who does he know? Who's going to protect him?" said Ayres-Word, who still lives in Philadelphia. "I knew how far I would have to come to protect him."

But as she helped move her son into his apartment in Indy, Boroski was there.

"And I looked at Bo and Bo talked to me in sincerity, and he said, 'I'll give you my word. I'll take care of him,'" Ayres-Word said. "He loves my son. Bo didn't have to do any of the things that he did with Tarrell. He did them by choice. That's one thing in life, right? We've got choices. You could choose to do right by someone or you could choose to do wrong by someone. And Bo did right by my son."

Boroski and others in officiating circles are working to change the face of officiating, to bring people from different walks of life, to add more women, to add more people of color, to make sure the referee landscape reflects America.

There are 1,089 men's basketball officials in the NCAA -- 67% of them are white, 72% are men and the average age is 44, according to the association. Of nonwhite officials, 8% are Black, 11.2% are Hispanic or Latino and the others identify as another race.

For Willis, he is grateful he landed one of those spots, and he will not take that for granted.

Since starting his job at RefQuest and being around Boroski every day, Willis is soaking in everything he can about the officiating industry. Boroski got Willis started with some lower-level college basketball assignments, and he caught the officiating bug in a major way.

"It's indescribable, to be quite honest. I have the pregame jitters," Willis said an hour before his first DI game, which was televised. "But it's like every other game, that's what I'm trying to tell myself at least. But definitely high stakes, there are people watching.

"This could be either the thing that can catapult me a little bit or kind of keep me right where I'm at. And people say, 'He needs a little bit more time.' I'm hoping after this, they'll see that I'm ready for it."

Donnie Eppley, executive director of the International Association of Approved Basketball Officials, was watching Willis on TV that game, and he saw the "it factor" it takes to officiate high-level games. It's the same thing Eppley saw when Willis came to a tryout two years ago.

"You can watch somebody officiate for somewhere from three to five minutes, and you can tell whether they have it or they don't. That's the first test," said Eppley, also the men’s basketball coordinator for the Horizon League and five Division III basketball conferences. "And then you want to learn how they are as a person, what their ego is like. You've got to have some humility."

Willis has that and then some. After the game, he asked Eppley to break it down, to be honest about what he saw. Eppley told Willis his calls "were spot on" but he "didn't like one of his mechanics." Willis didn't get defensive, and he didn't make excuses. He simply told Eppley he would work on that.

"Just his demeanor, the way he carries himself, is very impressive. And just his overall work ethic," said Eppley. "He's going to be a good one. Tarrell is going to be a fantastic official."

A big part of that, no doubt, is the journey he's

"I think part of what I've went through in my life has prepared me for refereeing," Willis said. "I truly believe that a lot of things happen for a reason."

A pre-game chat with Willis

How do you handle a coach who thinks you got the call wrong? "I try to smile first, be compassionate and understand that, 'Look, he's biased toward his team, and I am not biased at all. And I'm only making this judgment off of what I feel and I believe happened on that play.'"

Are you wrong sometimes? "Yes, and I have no problem admitting that. But in the moment, I say, 'Coach, I thought I was 100% right. I'll look back on the film and, if I was wrong, I'll be the first one to tell you next time I see you that I got that one wrong. I'll try to make sure I'm better tonight.'"

What is the hardest part of reffing? "The toughest challenge is, it's going to sound simple, but is hard for us. Out of bounds plays with guys that are 6-10 and have seven-foot wingspans, and two people go for a ball at the same time. It's just hard. The human eye, it can't zoom in. I can't take a snapshot photo. And then some of those goal tending basket interference plays, the hoop is kind of high. You don't really have a good look sometimes.

"That's why you have to train yourself to get to the next action as quick as possible to minimize the decision making."

Advice for young men going through similar life experiences: "Take every positive opportunity that comes your way. And if you feel some fear of people judging you for being different or going outside the box, I would say follow that even further and try to be more outside the box."

How have you persevered? "To be quite honest, I just try to look on the bright side of everything. I'm blessed to have those people in my life. And I'm blessed to have the events that I've gone through, because I wouldn't be myself without those. There's no sense in dwelling on what was unfortunate. I'm here, and I'm going to make the best of it."

Follow IndyStar sports reporter Dana Benbow on X: @DanaBenbow. Reach her via email: [email protected]

This article originally appeared on Indianapolis Star: NCAA's newest DI ref: 'He shouldn't have made it here but he prevailed'