Fair Play

Yesterday, I mingled with the future George (and Georgia) Costanzas of the world at the NYU Sports Management Career Fair. All dressed up in smart suits and colorful ties, the eager students approached my table one by one, resumes in hand, seeking their golden ticket into a long-lasting, lucrative career in sports marketing and management. I greeted them with a smile and a spheal: We are promoted to the sport of distance running and enhancing health and fitness for all. Our races and other fitness programs draw upwards of 300,000 runners annually. Our premier event is the ING New York City Marathon…Blah, blah, blah.

But I didn’t tell them what they wanted to hear. We had no positions available, and besides, what do I know about sports management?

So I divulged details about my job, even though there wasn’t a creative soul in the room, or at least one who would be interested in pursuing a writing or design job. I watched as their eyes—brimming with hope and optimism just minutes before—slowly glazed over. I knew they really wanted to talk to the Mets rep positioned next to our table, but the line was about ten suits deep. (I can only imagine the melee that would ensue if the Yankees were there!).

Hey, even I wanted to talk to the Mets guy.

But I stayed put. I was there on the request of my manager, the person dangling a raise and bonus above my nose like a carrot on a stick. And if attending a sports management career fair where I stuck out like a fish in a desert was what I needed to do to grasp that prize, than so be it.

So I resisted the urge to jump out the window into Washington Square Park. I collected more resumes and continued to smile. And by the end of the day, I got the raise—and the bonus.*

*Let me clarify that my raise/bonus amounted to a paltry sum. There will be no splurges on furniture, handbags, shoes, or the like in the near future. But whatever, I’ll take it.