By Robert Niles: Here's the long version of an essay that I wrote for the American Youth Soccer Association, which appeared it is Whistle Stop national e-mail newsletter for youth soccer referees.

It's got some good stuff in it for youth sports officials, I hope.

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Two weeks ago, I ran center ref for my son's BU10 [boys under 10 league] game. The day was cool and rain began to fall during the match, but we played on. (The games after ours would be cancelled.) My son's team fell behind 2-0, and with a couple players not at the game, at halftime coach put my son in goal.

(This is my son's first year in AYSO and he'd never played keeper before. And this is my first year as a ref, in any sport.)

In the second half, a player from my son's team tripped an opponent. It wasn't intentional, in my opinion, just a missed kick on a rutted field. But it was a hard kick, and the opponent fell to the pitch, hurt. I blew the whistle immediately, waved over the coach and ran to the boy.

The boy would be okay and play on, but I needed to call the foul. And at that moment, my brain was putting everything together: We were in the penalty box. It would be a penalty kick. And my son is in goal.

At that point, I had a vision of my son, sitting on a therapist's coach, 10 years in the future, blaming everything that had gone wrong with life on that day when his dad hung him out to dry at an AYSO game. But fair is fair, and I couldn't not make the call because my son would have to defend the penalty kick.

So we lined up, I signaled the kick, and (you can see where this story is going, can't you?)... my son saved it.

His side erupted in cheers, with chants of his name. With a steeled look, he played the rest of the half, making several impressive saves.

My son's team lost, 3-0. After the game, my son climbed into the back seat of the car, mud encasing his shoes, rain dripping from his chin, his teeth chattering from the chill. And he said, "This was the best day of my life."

If I hadn't made that call, I would have denied my son the opportunity to rise to the challenge of this game. That wouldn't have been fair. That wouldn't have been fun. And, frankly, it wouldn't have been safe for any of the players on that pitch.

Even if my son isn't directly involved, if I, or any other ref, chooses not to call a substantial foul, we deny others' sons and daughters the opportunity to rise to the challenges of this game. That's not fair, fun or safe for any of them.

Yeah, I had a knot the size of a soccer ball when I realized I'd called a PK my son would have to defend. But I'm proud I didn't back away from the call. Almost as proud as I am of my son for standing on that line and facing that kick.