I was sittingin the conference room sipping my iced coffee when Joe strolled in five minutes late, phone pressed to his ear, and his voice booming loud enough for the entire floor to hear him.
“Yeah, yeah, tell Benny to make the earlier tee time.” He grinned and gave me a wink while finishing his call. “I’m not sweating through another eighty-degree mid-afternoon round.” He laughed. “Talk later.”
Typical Joe, always making plans in the middle of a workday. Maybe that was why he was always late to meetings. His golf game came before anything else, including deadlines.
“Hey, Joe,” I said, flipping through my notes, not bothering to look up.
“Hey, kid.” He perched himself on the edge of the desk and took a hefty sip of his coffee. “That was quite a performance yesterday.”
I clicked my pen, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “I only asked him a few questions.”
“You did more than ask a few questions, tiger.” He pulled on his tie and stared down at me. “One thing to keep in mind for the next presser is you’re there to build trust and makethem comfortable. Not barge in there acting like some tough prosecutor with an ax to grind.”
Sometimes it felt like he was trying to push me out of here, when other times he made it seem like he was looking out for me.
Never mind the fact that we had the same workload, job title, and expectations. He might have been covering the league longer than me, but he wasn’t my boss, and I think it was past time I pointed that out to him.
“My job isn’t to make them feel comfortable.”
He shook his head. “You gotta ease up next time. Don’t push too hard. Maybe smile more.”
Before I could reply, the door swung open.
“Good morning.” Our boss, Daphene, smiled as she breezed into the conference room, coffee in one hand, tablet in the other. She pushed her blond bangs off her forehead and flopped down in her chair. Her eyes glanced between us. “Am I interrupting something?”
Joe sat up in his seat. “Just giving the kid a few pointers.”
She pulled on the sleeves of her black blazer. “About the press conference yesterday?”
“Yes,” I said, setting my bag on the floor next to my feet.
She nodded. “It was a great press conference. I watched it twice.”
Joe smiled. “Thanks, Daphene, I…”
She held her hand up, stopping him. “I was talking to Becca.”
My pen paused. “Me?”
Daphene smiled. “You pressed Nate Slader harder than anyone else in the room. You didn’t back down once. It was the first time I’d ever seen the man show any type of reaction.”
Joe chuckled. “I’m not so sure that was the type of reaction you were hoping for.”
Her eyebrows lifted slightly. “Everyone else tiptoed around him except Becca. She was tough and firm without crossing a line. That’s exactly the type of interviewing I want.”
Joe leaned back in his chair, muttering something under his breath. “With all due respect, there’s good interviewing and reckless interviewing.”
“I am aware of the difference.” She shot him a sharp look. “Becca stood out and asked the questions that everyone was afraid to.”
Joe frowned. “I was building a rapport.”
“I’m sure you were.” She leaned back in the chair, crossing one foot over the other. “And that’s why I decided to shift direction. I was reviewing the comment section on X and our website. It’s abundantly clear that the fans want more insight into the players and less soft statistical game recap. They can get numbers anywhere. They are emotionally invested in the team, and they want to understand more of the human side of these players.”
Joe tapped his fingers on the table. “Daphene, this is football, baby, not an interest blog. The fans want stats and highlights. They couldn’t care less if he eats cereal or bagels for breakfast. They want to keep track of touchdowns and passes this season, not if he’s rescuing puppies from the SPCA.”
Daphene opened a folder and handed each of us a piece of paper. “That’s where you are wrong. The fans don’t just want to be impressed by his performance. They want to know who he is as a person when he’s not throwing a ball accurately. They want to feel invested in him, not just an NFL brand.”
Joe sat up straighter, not liking where this conversation was headed. “His personal hobbies have nothing to do with his ability to win a championship. The true fans care only about winning. They get annoyed when you add too much fluff.”
