2026
JAKE O’DONNELL: THE NBA REFEREE WHO WALKED AWAY AT THE TOP
Referee.com
It’s been almost a year since the legendary Jake O’Donnell officiated his last game. It was strange not seeing him in the NBA Finals last year — the first time in 23 years he wasn’t there. He was at the top of the mountain yet stepped off it quietly and faded into the horizon. Why did he quit?
Jake O’Donnell did not retire because of his infamous run‑in with Clyde Drexler. Or the way the league buried him in its wake. Or his disdain for Darell Garretson. Or his lost respect for Rod Thorn. Or his disgust with the NBA’s cookie‑cutter referee philosophy. Or this season’s lockout. Or the new referees’ contract with the league. Or any other reason conspiracy buffs have speculated about since his surprise retirement last year ended his reign as one of the best NBA referees in history.
Jake O’Donnell, 59, says he retired because of his son, Jimmy. The orphanage, the odd jobs, the Scanlans, the divorce — they all played a part. Within the next few pages, you’re going to learn about Jimmy and Jake. Then you’ll understand why Jake is gone.
Jimmy and Jake
Jimmy is a typical sleep‑late 15‑year‑old. He’s a bit shy and uncomfortable around strangers. Some baby‑fat leads you to believe he’s got some growing to do.
Today, Jimmy is a typical teenager in at least one other way: His father, Jake, and his mother, Ann, divorced in 1990. With Jake flying around the country half the year, Jimmy didn’t see much of his father even when they lived in the same house. After Jake was gone, Jimmy saw even less of him. Jake says that’s because Ann didn’t like him spending time with her son. Jake’s travels didn’t help either. Jimmy entered those trying teenage years essentially without a father.
Jake knows what that’s like firsthand. Jake does not know who his father is. Jake — known as Jimmy as a boy — was born to an unwed mother who couldn’t afford to keep him. For his first 14 years, Jimmy “raised himself” in an orphanage. He had ample opportunity to feel sorry for himself, but says he didn’t. Jimmy was a survivor. The combination of Catholic school discipline with Philadelphia street savvy made young Jimmy O’Donnell a fighter. He didn’t back down then; he doesn’t back down now.
At 13, while still living at the orphanage, Jimmy worked on a farm. He got up at 4 a.m. to milk cows and drive the tractors, even though he had to make sure the little kids he lived with went to the bathroom twice a night so they didn’t wet their beds. Hardworking churchgoers Charles and Dolores Scanlan owned that Clifton Heights, Pa., farm. They took a liking to Jimmy and invited the 14‑year‑old to their Christmas dinner. Jimmy never left. For the first time in his life, Jimmy had a home. Charles and Dolores became Dad and Mom.
For the most part, Jimmy followed the Scanlan’s strict household rules because he was grateful. “They treated me like I was one of theirs.” Still, Jimmy had to fight his way to respect on the street corners of Clifton Heights, a poor mill town just outside of Philly. “It was a very tough town,” he said. “We had a lot of Polish, we had Italians, we had Irish and it was a tough crowd. But once you got in with your crowd, there were no problems.”
