Veteran NHL referee Don Koharski was one of the top officials back in the day, even though insults from New Jersey coach Jim Schoenfeld in 1988 stuck with him throughout the rest of his career. Koharski shared more in this 1989 story featured in THN's Archive.

It’s not at all common to have a non-NHL player on the cover of The Hockey News. However, in this cover story from THN’s Nov. 10, 1989 edition (Vol. 43, Issue 8), THN profiled one of the most famous referees in NHL history – and one of the most infamous quotes about him.

(And here’s your daily reminder: for complete access to THN’s exclusive 76-year Archive, you can subscribe to the magazine.)

We’re speaking of retired NHL referee Don Koharski. When the story was published, Koharski was 33 years old and in his 13th season as an official. But in the 1988 Stanley Cup playoffs, he was verbally raked over the coals by then-New Jersey Devils coach Jim Schoenfeld, who confronted Koharski in a hallway leading to the dressing room.

“(Y)ou fat pig,” Schoenfeld screamed at Koharski. “Have another donut.”

That insult would follow Koharski around for his entire career. He officiated 1,719 regular season games and 246 playoff games, but while Schoenfeld was suspended for his conduct toward Koharski, the damage was done. When Koharski retired in 2009, Schoenfeld’s harsh words were part of his story. But Koharski quickly came to terms with the insult, as he discussed in the cover story written by Scott Morrison.

“Unfortunately, what was said that night sticks with you,” Koharski told Morrison. “I still hear the line occasionally…I still hear that when the fans don’t like a call I’ve made. I still see them sitting there with Dunkin’ Donuts bags. You know, I hate donuts. I always have. You’ll never find them in my house.”

Like all on-ice NHL officials, the native of Dartmouth, N.S., understood that criticism from fans, coaches and players is part of the job. Koharski accepted it, even when he’d become a punchline for dissatisfaction with the sport’s officiating.

“(W)e’re a different breed of human being,” Koharski said. “It beats working for a living, but I guess it’s the challenge that appeals to you. It’s not like any other job. You never know from one night to the next what’s going to happen. Every game there’s a different challenge. It’s also that sense of running things, maybe the security of being in control that attracts you.”

Now 68 years old, Koharski handled the spotlight with grace when it was trained on him.

“You have to rule with an iron fist and have the players respect you,” he says. “You have to be honest with players and yourself and you have to be sure of yourself on the ice. If you could create the perfect referee, the bottom line would be honesty and self-confidence.”

Koharski wasn’t the perfect referee, but he went about his business honestly and earned the lifelong respect of his peers.

‘I HATE DONUTS’

Vol. 43, No. 8, Nov. 10, 1989

By Scott Morrison

The first thing you should know about Don Koharski is not necessarily the most important. Or the most flattering. It is, however, an inevitability he has come to accept and endure. So, without further delay: No, he does not like donuts. He never has, never will. Yes, he has always had a weight problem, but has also dropped 26 pounds since that fateful night two springs ago.

So don’t even think about suggesting he have another donut, and that he might be too fat.

“Unfortunately,” says Koharski, “what was said that night sticks with you. I still hear the line occasionally, ‘Have another donut…’ It’s going to stick. I lost 26 pounds the next year, but I still hear it. I guess once you’ve been fat, you’re always fat. I still hear that when the fans don’t like a call I’ve made. I still see them sitting there with Dunkin’ Donuts bags. You know, I hate donuts. I always have. You’ll never find them in my house.”

Another thing you should know about Don Koharski, again not necessarily the most important or the most flattering, but just as big a part of his life: He made an error in judgment last spring, breaking curfew on May 10, the eve of the sixth game of the Wales Conference final.

“They sent me to the minors for five games to start this season as punishment,” says Koharski. “I deserved it. I broke an agreement and I let my fellow officials down. I felt worse for them than I did for myself. But I paid my price and I learned my lesson.”

Oh, there is one other thing you should know about Don Koharski, the most important and most flattering.’ Despite all that has happened, he might just be the best referee in the NHL. He’s been among the elite for several years and he probably will be for several more.

At age 33, into his 13th season as an NHL official, Koharski has alternately lived a dream of being among the very best at his job, and has endured a nightmare of not being fully regarded for his proficiency.

“Unfortunately,” he says, “it happens sometimes. You don’t like it, but that’s the way it is.”

Being an NHL referee is pretty much all Koharski, a native of Dartmouth, N.S., has ever really wanted to do. Growing up on a naval base, he played hockey and worked as a referee to earn his spending change. On a good Saturday, he could pick up $70 or $80. Most Saturdays were good, too. At 18, he was hired as a linesman by the upstart World Hockey Association. A phenom in black and white.

“There I was,” he recalls, “this down-home boy living in Toronto thinking, ‘Wow, what am I doing here?’ When you’re a kid growing up, becoming an official isn’t in anyone’s dreams. But then, we’re a different breed of human being.”

In 1977, he worked his first game with the NHL as a linesman; 163 games later, he became a referee.

“It beats working for a living,” he says with a laugh, “but I guess it’s the challenge that appeals to you. It’s not like any other job. You never know from one night to the next what’s going to happen. Every game there’s a different challenge. It’s also that sense of running things, maybe the security of being in control that attracts you.”

The allure, obviously, has nothing to do with grand salaries and charming accolades. If the ego is to be satisfied, it’s to be self-satisfied.

“That’s why you have wives, moms, dads and kids,” adds Koharski, who lives in Burlington, Ont., with his wife Susan and sons Jamie, 7, and Kevin, 6. “For the most part, though, it’s a private thing when you’ve had a good game, or do well. Usually no one tells you, you just feel it inside.

“On those other nights, well, no one has to tell you. You know. And those nights bother you.”

But from out of those bad nights, Koharski has learned to develop style, presence and thick skin.

“You have to rule with an iron fist and have the players respect you,” he says. “You have to be honest with players and yourself and you have to be sure of yourself on the ice. If you could create the perfect referee, the bottom line would be honesty and self-confidence.”

A few years ago the league tried to create the perfect referee. Or at least, his psychological profile. And they used Koharski — whose string of Stanley Cup final appearances was ended at three last spring because of the curfew violation — as the prototype. Heady praise, indeed. Just after that, however, his abilities (and physique) were severely questioned in New Jersey, after a playoff game between the Devils and Boston Bruins. Devils’ coach Jim Schoenfeld berated Koharski on the ice. Then, in the hallway leading to the dressing room, the two collided.

“You fell, you fat pig,” Schoenfeld said at the time, unaware of how oft-repeated his words would become. “Have another donut.”

Schoenfeld was suspended, but the Devils gained a temporary court injunction allowing him to continue working. Upset, fearing there was little regard for their welfare, the NHL Officials’ Association rallied and staged a wildcat strike. That resulted in the now-infamous Yellow Sunday, when three amateur officials were called upon to work a playoff game.

“It wasn’t pleasant for me,” says Koharski. “It wasn’t pretty, but thank God it’s over with. I didn’t know Jim personally. He was the coach and I was the referee and we have the same association now. But he just did something he thought was right. I don’t think it was right, but I don’t hold grudges.”

Schoenfeld now admits emotions got the better of him. He adds politely that Koharski is a good official doing a difficult job. But he refrains from heaping praise or criticism.

“We had a disagreement a long time ago,” says Schoenfeld, “but it was an isolated incident. It was an emotional moment. But it’s ancient history.”

Despite the emotional strain caused by the incident, Koharski has maintained his excellent work record, according to NHL director of officiating Bryan Lewis.

“He’s still one of the top officials,” says Lewis. “He has a good attitude, good control on the ice. Things happen that are part of the terms of employment. There’ll always be controversy in officiating, but that’s a non-issue now.”

The business last spring, though, was not quite a term of employment. It was Koharski’s own fault. He admits it, too. He stayed out past an 11 p.m. curfew the night before the final game between the Montreal Canadiens and Philadelphia Flyers and got caught. The squealer called a Philadelphia open-line show. Flyer GM Bob Clarke took it to the league from there.

As the story is told and retold, he was either drunk, dancing on a table and/or tippling drinks with Canadiens’ GM Serge Savard. In truth, he had drinks with linesman Wayne Bonney and simply remained out past 11. He and Bonney each received a five-game stint in the minors and a $1,000 fine.

Tom Watt, while coaching Vancouver in 1986, was fined $5,000 for calling Koharski “a dirty, no-good, vindictive (expletive deleted) who deliberately cheated us out of two points.”

Such criticism is part of a referee’s life. So is the horrible travel schedule. But Koharski’s career has had its proud moments, too.

Among the cherished memories are his first Stanley Cup final (1986) and his selection, by Soviet coach Viktor Tikhonov, to the final game of the 1987 Canada Cup.

When it’s over, Koharski says he’d like to coach.

“I might only last a year, but I’ve always enjoyed coaching,” he says. “I’ve had national champion midget and junior lacrosse and hockey teams.

“But I also had to get out of it. I was just terrible with the officials. I was in more hearings. I had one ref by the scruff of the neck because he wasn’t calling the game the way any of us were taught it should be played. So I go to the hearing and who do I see? Walking out after his own hearing is John McCauley (the late NHL director of officiating).”

In his spare time now, Koharski runs a referee’s school in the summer. He is also heavily involved in the Burlington Make-A-Wish charity foundation. And he fights that endless battle of the bulge.

Through it all, however, he’s never lost his sense of humor.

“Unfortunately,” he says, “things happen. But that’s the job we chose, so we’re not looking for any sympathy. I’m just striving to be good at my job. And I don’t want to break any rules, if you know what I mean. My brother, Terry, he’s in the (NHL) trainee program now, refereeing in the AHL and IHL. Guess what his nickname is? Timbit (a mini-donut).”

The Hockey News Archive is a vault of 2,640 issues and more than 156,000 articles exclusively for subscribers, chronicling the complete history of The Hockey News from 1947 until today. Visit the archives at THN.com/archive and subscribe today at subscribe.thehockeynews.com