The "Fail Mary," one of the most infamously bad calls in football, took place in the 2012 NFL season when unqualified replacement refs were calling the game during a referee lockout. Three days later, the NFL settled with the Referees Association, but not before the image of one referee calling a touchdown while another, keystone-cop-like, simultaneously called an interception, became fodder for late night and sent one of the substitute refs into a mental hospital.

Fail Mary, an American tragi-comedy opera composed by Kevin Laskey and written by Cheri Magid, follows seven of these part-time referees—a policeman, a retiree, an economics professor, a data analyst, a real estate agent, an FAA controller, and a bank branch manager—as they realize their childhood dreams of being part of the sport they love at the highest of levels. But their excitement and wonder slowly turns to horror when their earnest mistake—a direct result of their inadequate training—has football fans calling for their death and a complicit NFL using them as a scapegoat. A sidelined female sportscaster, an activist quarterback, and a chorus of silenced cheerleaders all rail against their similar fate. Like Friday Night Lights on television and Take Me Out on Broadway, sport becomes the backdrop for a hard-hitting and absurd story of love, betrayal, and unnecessary roughness.

Musically, Fail Mary celebrates the game with sounds recalling fan chants, TV broadcasts, marching bands, jock rock, and even liturgical chorales. It is composed for 8 soloists (1 soprano, 2 mezzos (or 1 mezzo 1 countertenor), 2 tenors, 2 baritones, 1 bass), SATB ensemble (8-40 voices), and an orchestra of 13 players (3 woodwinds doubling flute, clarinet, bass clarinet, saxophones; 1 French horn; 2 trumpets; 2 trombones; 1 electric guitar; 2 keyboards; 2 percussion.) Structurally it references football with a pre-game, four quarters and a halftime. Running time is 75 minutes.

Demos

Character List

Fail Mary is performed by 8 soloists who play the following characters:

     Sidelined Gal (mezzo-soprano), a sideline reporter with a keen eye for the game and so much more, but who can’t break the glass ceiling.

Principal Replacement Referees:

     Ref #26 (mezzo-soprano or countertenor) an exuberant, perhaps overconfident, bank branch manager who’s dreamed of being in pro football since he                  was nine, now the Side Judge

     Ref #84 (tenor) a sensitive but no-nonsense retiree who took up refereeing as a hobby and is exacting in his work; now the Back Judge

     Ref #28 (bass-baritone) a big-hearted real estate agent who crisscrossed rural Texas reffing high school games; now the Head Referee

Supporting Replacement Referees/Other Characters:

     #102 (soprano) a data analyst; now the Field Judge/Big Baller, the face (and well, balls) of the league

     #77 (tenor) an economics professor; now the Head Linesman/QB1, who plays ball but wants to say something more

     #46 (baritone) a policeman; now the Umpire/Play by Play, a fratty commentator in the booth

     #59 (baritone) an air traffic controller; now the Line Judge/Color, an even frattier commentator in the booth

An SATB chorus of 8 or more play the following characters:

     Cheerleaders
     Fans
     Players (including a canny offensive team receiver)
     Suits

Synopsis

The pregame opens on a raucous pro football stadium. We witness the infamous “Fail Mary” play in real time, watching the offense’s QB1 throw the ball up for a last-second “Hail Mary” touchdown to try and win the game. But instead, the unprepared Replacement Referees turn into keystone cops and make two opposing calls. One says touchdown—offense wins. The other says touchback—defense wins. Chaos ensues.

After introducing the main event, we meet the characters—fans, players, cheerleaders, sportscasters, league suits, an intrepid sideline reporter (known as Sidelined Gal), and the scab refs themselves.

In the first quarter, we follow the story of how the “Fail Mary” came to be. The league suits, led by their head honcho Big Baller, lock out the real refs who are looking for a raise. Big Baller then leads the company in a “Picking Song” to find scabs. Good refs don’t want to cross the picket line, until the suits find a bank branch manager who refs high school on the side. Regretting what his mundane life has become, he sings "When I Was Nine" and tells how he fell in love with football. He takes the offer to be a replacement ref, becoming #26, the side judge. Inspired by #26, other refs join, including a real estate agent, a retiree, an air traffic controller, a data analyst, an economics professor, and a police officer who all ref at low levels in their spare time. While the whole cast shares how football is a repository for all kinds of dreams, QB1 laments that the pro league stops him from speaking his mind.

As the new refs meet each other, the head ref #28 and back judge #84 share war stories of their reffing careers. #28 barnstormed around rural Texas with the same officiating crew each week, loving the sense of brotherhood. #84 took up refereeing as a retirement hobby, but kept getting promoted to better crews because of his skill. He wishes for the camaraderie #28 has experienced; #28 says that now they’re all brothers.

The scabs begin their rushed training, hoping to be ready for their first game. #26 expresses confidence that they can be as good as the pros, though from the outside, it's clear that they're in over their heads. Sidelined Gal, whose own sportscasting career is blocked by the glass ceiling of the commentators’ booth, warns the overwhelmed refs that the league suits won’t protect them if they fail.

It’s the second quarter, and the refs run out to begin the “Fail Mary” game. As they call penalties and keep the game moving, the fans and sportscasters keep a close count of the refs’ mistakes. #28 tries to keep the "brotherhood's" moral up. Sidelined Gal sees the writing on the wall: everything she warned about is coming true.

We return to the infamous “Fail Mary” play, now seen from the refs’ perspective. #26 makes the touchdown call—offense wins—while #84 sees the opposite: touchback—defense wins. They argue in front of the crowd and TV audience, their dignity slipping away. Attempting to regain order, the refs consult the arcane NFL rulebook, though it only complicates the situation. The refs start to blame each other, the fans argue, the league suits worry the situation is now out of control, and #28 wishes for a clear way out. Suddenly, #28 gets a call from the video replay team who tell him to stick with the call of touchdown—offense wins. The situation is so surreal and nonsensical that the fans, players, and commentators rebel.

The confused and angry players walk off the field in disgust, but by the rulebook, the game isn’t over yet. #28 pleads with QB1 to help get the players back on the field for an unnecessary yet obligatory extra point. The game’s foundation of order and fairness is irrevocably broken.

At halftime, we find the refs silent in the locker room after the game. They quietly pray, trying to make sense of their chaotic failure and who is to blame.

In the third quarter, we follow the refs’ experience of the Fail Mary’s aftermath, where they discover that football is not just a repository for dreams, but also for rage. The moment is replayed constantly on television and social media. In seeing the replays over and over, the commentators point out the refs’ obvious failure—the defense should have won. #84, feeling betrayed by his so-called “brother”, confronts #28 for not supporting his correct call. #28 is upset that #84 didn’t understand his difficult responsibility as head ref amidst the chaos. #26 maintains his conviction of what he saw—a touchdown—despite the video evidence. But one of the offensive receivers comes forward and cackles at how suggestible the scab refs are. The player signaled touchdown and duped #26 into making the same wrong call. Sidelined Gal sees this situation as yet another instance of incompetent men controlling the game.

The public fracas over the “Fail Mary” reaches new heights: the leading presidential election candidates weigh in as an excuse to get their campaigns in the public eye and denigrate their opponents. The event is officially bigger than football. QB1 gets fed up with the meaningless and angry discourse, finally taking center stage to redirect the public’s attention toward substantive issues of police violence and civil rights.

Yet the “Fail Mary” replays and the furious discourse continue apace, a scandal spun out of control. Big Baller saves face and embraces the negative attention as “good publicity,” but decides to settle with the pro refs, fire the scabs, and blackball the activist QB1 for good measure. The damage, however, has already been done to #26. Because of the stress, he’s lost his bank job and his family and has ended up in a mental institution. He sings an aria “Unnecessary Roughness” about the unfairness of receiving so much hate for such a small mistake.

The fourth quarter begins one year later with a documentary news piece by Sidelined Gal. Unable to get in touch with #26, she talks to #84, who laments how he can no longer officiate because of a health issue. #84 writes to #28 to apologize for his lack of understanding during the game and asks if they can still be brothers. #28 tells #84 that he’s missed him, and then details a chance meeting with QB1, who’s been unable to sign with a new team. Despite a new national platform for his activism, QB1 misses playing and tells #28 that they were both screwed by the suits. QB1 has come to admire #28, though, for the class and consideration he displayed in a bad situation. We now see that #26 has been watching the news story the whole time, and he takes stock of how his football dream turned into a nightmare.

Sidelined Gal sums up her piece with a poetic aria about how football is the place where so many people seek catharsis through controlled anger and violence. But before she can finish, she’s interrupted once again by the male commentators in the booth who land one more joke at her expense before moving our attention to the next game. The regular refs are back on the field; all is seemingly right in the world of pro football. But then, another surprise whistle. The real refs blow a call. The fans boo. The players sigh. We will always need a scapegoat. The opera ends as it began.