We were bellowed at. And they were always right. We traveled to all corners of the earth and were followed by a group of elderly men with grey hair and thick glasses. They had devastating authority over us. But they kept us on the right path in life. They often reminded us to not argue, stay on court, and not open the door. Asked us politely to not question their decisions, never drop the racquet, and to not think for ourselves.
In locker rooms we amiably talked about referees as the fathers we never had. Only these fathers had power. Real power.