Jay Sharrers was just 22 years old when he made his NHL debut as a linesman in 1990. The first game he officiated was in Boston between the Bruins and the Quebec Nordiques, putting Sharrers on the same ice as his childhood hockey idol, Guy Lafleur. It was a “wow-factor moment,” as Sharrers puts it nearly 30 years later, that cemented how far he’d come.
When the final horn sounded that night, Bruins captain Dave Poulin handed Sharrers the game puck and wished him the best for his career. It was a moment he’d never forget.
But it hadn’t been an easy road to hockey’s biggest stage. Fuelled in part by the bigotry he experienced growing up playing hockey in Hope, B.C. — and at virtually every stop on his way to the NHL — Sharrers would carve out a career as one of the game’s best, working seven Stanley Cup Finals before his retirement at the end of the 2015–16 season.
I spoke with Sharrers about his rise through the ranks, achieving history as both the NHL’s first black linesman and first black official, and the legacy he’s leaving behind.
Sportsnet: You were just a teenager when you rose through the officiating ranks. In the process you were also blazing a trail as a black official, but I’ve heard you say in the past that you didn’t think of it in those terms at the time — at least not like you would later. Why do you think that was?
Jay Sharrers: I think the biggest thing I chalk it up to is my parents. My parents instilled in my brother and I a quiet confidence and a tremendous work ethic. I never looked at it, when I was in the moment, as being a trail blazer or a pioneer in terms of being the first black official in the league. I just wanted to be the best official in the league and prove I belonged.
It was probably only during the twilight of my career — and certainly now in retirement — that I realized a lot of people, and a lot of young kids, look back on and can relate to what I accomplished.
Your dad was born in Jamaica before emigrating to Canada. What kind of influence did he have on you?
He was born and raised in Kingston, Jamaica, and was an athlete as well. He was a soccer player, a water polo player, and a swimmer. He made the Pan Am games in soccer in the ’60s.
My father was an older father — he was 40 when I was born. Having an older dad was something that, at the time, I looked at as a disadvantage. All my friends’ fathers were so much younger. But I think the wisdom and the experience he instilled in my brother and I definitely served us well later in life. Without that, I don’t think it would have been as easy for me to make the jump [to the NHL] at such a young age from a maturity standpoint.
Did your dad experience racism when he first moved to B.C.?
Oh yeah. When my dad first came to Canada and was applying for jobs, starting the second chapter of his life with my mother in Canada, he was flat out told at one job interview: “I’d love to hire you but I can’t because you’re black.” So, it was a pretty bitter pill. For someone to actually say that to your face is pretty devastating. That’s why when people say, “Oh, there’s no racism in Canada,” I say, “There is. It’s just maybe not as overt as it was or has been in the United States.” But it does exist.
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You’ve experienced things like crowds chanting racial slurs at you when your career was getting started. How do you process that at such a young age? How did you handle it?
You’re human, so of course you’re hearing it all and reacting to what’s being said. But I think because I grew up in a mixed-race family in a small town in Western Canada, I’d certainly experienced racism as a kid in school and playing hockey and other sports. It came from the other kids, but, you know, intolerance is learned behaviour. Clearly, it’s coming from the parents at some point.
I think I knew how to handle it. I knew it was ignorance and people having a misunderstanding, or an intolerance, of people who looked different and came from different backgrounds.
So I think as any kid of colour or ethnicity would say, it definitely affects you. But the confidence and the will and desire that your parents, or whoever is involved in your upbringing, instil in you, that’s something that will carry you through situations like that. And if anything, [it] can motivate you to prove or silence people who will say, “You can’t do this because you’re black,” or “The only reason you got this job was because you’re black.” Those are things that, [for] me personally, I always used as motivation.
Ten years into your NHL career you started over again and switched from being a linesman to an official. It meant going back to working small-town barns and semi-pro leagues. A decade had past, yet, again, the same bigotry still came your way. Did you expect that?
I think given the fact that I worked that first year and a half in the East Coast Hockey League honing my craft as a referee, working in some of those deep Southern states where obviously racism was and still is prevalent — especially in a game like hockey. Never mind the NHL…. In semi-pro hockey it’s even more rare that there’ll be black players, let alone black officials.
I definitely experienced that those first couple of years being in those minor-league cities.
Did the experience of having gone through that once already help?
It definitely helped. For me it was about being able to channel whatever anger or frustration I would feel into my work. In my career I was so driven to be the best, and to be consistently at an elite level game in and game out. It was just another motivating factor for me to prove to people and silence critics — to say, “Hey, it doesn’t matter what I look like or what my background is. I’m a damn good official.”
Then I’d imagine officiating in the Stanley Cup Finals must have been a huge validation for you.
Oh, for sure. The fact that I not only accomplished that once in my career, but accomplished it seven times and worked two Game 7s of a Cup Final…. There are a lot of guys who will never have that experience, let alone working it multiple times. That was a real blessing in my career, but also something that I achieved through hard work.
In 2001 you were part of an NHL diversity task force along with Willie O’Ree. What was it like meeting and working with O’Ree?
It was such a surreal experience the first time I met him. I had known a little bit about his story in terms of being the first black player in the league, but I didn’t know him as a person. To get to know him, it makes me emotional to recall, because he reminded me a lot of my father. When we met, his quiet confidence, his intelligence and perspective, his demeanour and graciousness…. Because of working in the league around all these stars like Gretzky and Lemieux and Coffey, I don’t know if I was ever awestruck. But I was awestruck getting to know Willie and what a tremendous individual he is.
Even to this day, how selfless he is in his work ethic to promote a game that he loves. Not so much being wrapped up in being the first black player in the league, but, much like myself, he just wanted to pursue a game that he loved and try to play it to the best of his abilities. I can’t say enough about the admiration and respect I have for Willie O’Ree.
You’ve left a significant legacy yourself. We see more minorities in hockey today than ever, and in the officiating ranks there are people like Shandor Alphonso, the NHL’s only current active black official, who have followed in your footsteps. What does it feel like to leave an impact on the game, and do you expect to see even more minorities build a career on the ice like you did?
Obviously I would be very hopeful that there will be other black officials that can see that it is possible, and is a realistic goal if they have the talent to work in the NHL. The NHL has worked hard, like many leagues and businesses, to show that they are inclusive of people from all different walks of life.
I don’t want to say that it’s different now for a young official because it’s still a tremendous challenge just to get to that level — regardless of your ethnic background. But looking back now, being retired for almost four years, it gives me a sense of comfort knowing that somebody can look at my career and read my story and understand that this is possible. Much like I said about Willie, any time that you can give back to somebody the way that so many gave to me while I was coming up and trying to make it, that’s something we should all strive for. I definitely take pride in that.
Thanks for your time, Jay. It’s important that we continue to tell stories like yours.
Absolutely. If nothing else, for young people…. You know, I’m sure there’s a ton of young black hockey players who had no idea who Willie O’Ree was, and what his journey meant for the NHL in 1958. So I think those stories need to be continuously told, whether it’s Black History Month or not.
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