A decade into covering the Penn State football program, my annual Blue-White Game routine was undone this year.

Waking up late on an April Saturday morning, grabbing a quick shower and shave, making myself presentable with some varying shade of khaki pants and a polo shirt; those traditions all held firm. Even my usual breakfast of two strips of thick-cut bacon, a couple over-easy eggs and a tall glass of orange juice remained.

But, approached by Penn State football and the Big Ten earlier in the week with the offer to participate in a unique opportunity, I understood a few key elements would be drastically different this year. Given a chance to shadow the game’s real, conference-sanctioned officiating crew, my day’s most critical act would come at its start.

Flipping open my cramped bathroom’s medicine cabinet, every penny pinching fibre of my being took a backseat to my eyesight. First the left, then the right, I popped in a fresh set of contact lenses to ensure the clearest Blue-White Game experience of my professional career.

By the time redshirt freshman quarterback Tommy Stevens dropped a perfectly placed ball into the hands of wideout Juwan Johnson to my sideline, just two plays into the scrimmage, I was happy about my choice. Seemingly caught on a sideline tightrope, the redshirt freshman receiver lost control of the ball as safety Marcus Allen knocked it away in a fraction of a second.

The call?

No catch, third down, and maybe most important, my first real-life example of just how completely unqualified I was for the job.

Really though, that realization began hours earlier at the Lasch Building as the day’s expanded nine-man crew - including a personal tour guide for the day, side judge Frank Steratore - gathered at 11:15 a.m. for its usual pre-game meeting. Gathering in one of the team’s position meeting rooms, I’d come prepared with my reporter’s notebook at the ready and an iPad loaded with a nine-question rules quiz completed for group review.

Captained by veteran official Jerry McGinn, the hour-long session was to include a review of rule changes for the 2016 season, film study and a group evaluation of the quiz. Starting with personal introductions, each of the officials revealed a wealth of experience at every level of football to match a equally broad mix of backgrounds and hometowns. All sides of Pennsylvania were represented, Ohio, Illinois, and others across the Midwest.

A Pennsylvania native, upon hearing the Ohio official’s introduction, I dryly cracked a joke about his obvious bias against Penn State. No one laughed.

Duly noted. My comedic career on hold, a play-by-play accounting of the quiz further demonstrated a need to stick to writing and reporting. Completed earlier that morning, that I was even able to distinguish its language, let alone actual answers, felt like a minor accomplishment.

Take, for example, this beauty copied word-for-word from the quiz:

“4th/10 A30. The score is A24-B22. Potential punter A8 muffs the snap, recovers and starts to run. A8 is on A's 32 when he completes a pass to A88 who is downed on A's 46. Time expires in the fourth quarter during the down. Ruling & Clock”

My answer looked like this:

“B possession, :00 clock, A25 spot”

The correct ruling, based on current NCAA interpretation, would be a loss of down for Team A, the expiration of the clock and, believe it or not, the end of the game with no final opportunity for Team B from the spot of the infraction.

Skimming through a handout of 14 changes and revisions for the 2016 season before needing to head up to Beaver Stadium, other rules I hadn’t ever considered were also covered.

For instance, tablet technology can now be utilized by coaching staffs in the press box and team locker rooms, but are still not permitted on the sidelines. A tripping penalty now “affords the ball carrier the same protection from tripping that other players have had for many years.” And, easily the most complicated among the revisions, blocking below the waist is legal for players inside the tackle box, and backs at least partially inside the tackle box. But, once the ball has left the tackle box, blocks below the waist must be directed from the front - “within the clock-face region between ’10 o’clock and 2 o’clock’ forward of the player being blocked.”

And, maybe to the protection of the officials themselves, out-of-control coaches are now susceptible to disqualification upon receiving two unsportsmanlike conduct penalties.

Under the stunning blue skies at Beaver Stadium later that afternoon, Penn State head coach James Franklin did not appear to be at risk of that fate. Huddling with the entire officiating crew for the admittedly relaxed atmosphere of a spring scrimmage, in a role reversal, it was Franklin who was offering up the instructions.

Outside of tags to the quarterback - the play called dead on his whistle out of the backfield for protection - the game was to be officiated with relative normalcy. A running clock would be implemented at his discretion, but even bang-bang play clock violations could be given a pass, he told us. In fact, only the most egregious of penalties needed called, unlike the instruction of a spring practice session in which every minor infraction is identified to the players’ benefit.

In other words, keep the kids safe, keep the game moving, and enjoy the afternoon of consequence-free football.

No doubt, the very notion was a complete departure for McGinn and his officiating crew. Professionals by every measure, the stakes were clearly a fraction of a typical fall Saturday around the Big Ten. Dedicating a vast amount of would-be free time to their love for the game, these are the nameless men whose judgment is a critical component to the product millions of fans watch each autumn weekend.

Willingly shouldering the heightened responsibilities that accompany officiating the high-stakes world of major college football, it’s a job for the confident, competitive, and passionate few. To a man, they wouldn’t want it any other way.

“We love what we do or we wouldn't do it,” said Steratore, two decades into his career as an official and entering his sixth season with the Big Ten. “It's just been something that has been a part of the better portion of our lives. The people you meet, the places that you have the opportunity to work at and travel around are all great, but I'd say the reason why most of us do what we do is because of the competitiveness within us to try to just be the best official or crew mate that we can be.”

Forget the game itself; that motivation manifests itself in many ways long before the officials step between the white lines.

Needing many games experience at the high school level before even being considered for a college job, the path is a years-long journey to becoming a D1 official. McGinn’s three-decade career includes 15 years spent climbing through high school and lower college level officiating before becoming a Big East referee. There for 11 years, including working the Orange and Rose Bowls along the way, McGinn moved into the Big Ten when he was hired in 2013 by the conference’s Director of Officiating, Bill Carollo.

Each year, the job begins in earnest in February as officials work team practices and scrimmages while holding their own offseason meetings. Constantly engaging in film study throughout the year, crews stay sharp during the summer months leading into the season via video and tests. All of it - the years of experience, the constant interaction with the game and daily preparation - is integral to each official’s success working the games that really count.

“It really comes down to preparation and experience. That's why we're preparing now in April, May and June for September. We're not going to roll out of bed on Labor Day and walk out on the field,” said McGinn. “Experience is huge. The fact that we've worked a number of games and we've worked at the different levels to work our way up, as opposed to even a player just coming off the field and then going into a stripe, it wouldn't be the same. He wouldn't have the confidence based on the experience and the preparation to be able to pull it off.”

Applied to the game itself, the responsibility of each official is simultaneously simple and complicated.

Owning a progression of pre-snap checks, from the down and distance, an eye on the clock to players on the field, substitutions and more, each official helps ensure the legality of a play before the ball is ever snapped. Taking on a specific set of “keys” from there, the 22 players and 57,600 square feet of the football field are dramatically minimized by focusing on a particular play or player from beginning to end.

The relative simplicity ends there, though.

Staying with their keys for the duration of the play, a vast and complicated rulebook is interpreted and implemented on the fly. Penalties and no-calls, catches and no-catches, turnovers and downed plays, all of them become an official’s responsibility in his specific section of the play, shared by the next closest official when needed. Requiring confidence in the abilities of each crew member, cooperation becomes a paramount, often nonverbal, aspect of the job.

“When you work as a crew and you trust the individuals, then you are just focusing on and doing your job,” McGinn explained. “Just like a football team with an offense, if they're doing their job, then the play should operate correctly. It's the same with us.”

Inevitably, the best intentions and practice aren’t enough to ever ensure perfection.

As Penn State fans and followers of every other college football program can attest, the critical mistakes or controversial judgement calls can be maddening. But, for the group of men striving to achieve that goal, the only rooting interest during a game is toward the entire working team of officials making the correct calls.

Running alongside Steratore in the second quarter, I witnessed the effort for myself.

Lined up for a second-and-2 just outside the red zone, Blue quarterback Trace McSorley double-pumped and unloaded a floater to the front right corner of the end zone. Posted at the pylon, Steratore watched wideout Saeed Blacknall cradle the ball and tip-toe twice before continuing out of bounds. Deliberate in making the call, Steratore reviewed the play mentally for a few seconds before raising both arms to signal the touchdown.

Obvious to each of the 65,000 fans at Beaver Stadium, that Steratore made the right call came as no surprise.

In my first and likely last foray into the unique world of college football officiating, that so much experience, technique and effort went into the call was the eye-opener for me, new contacts and all.