What a game! Was I there?

Ah, what is more fulfilling in a man’s (and some women – don’t want to start this blog off sounding like a sexist jerk!) life than getting to go to ‘the game’?  No matter the sport, experiencing a game first hand is truly one of life’s great joys.  From the time your Dad takes you to your first sporting event to when you get to bring your own son to the ballpark; there is nothing like it.  However, it recently dawned on me that outside of those special Norman Rockwellian-type occasions there is a common theme to the experience of attending a sporting event as an adult – I don’t remember what the hell happened after I attended!?!?

How can this be possible?  I was sitting near the dugout/behind the bench/ringside/courtside/etc.?  Surely the mere fact of being just steps from the game would result in a deep and clear memory of all that has taken place, right?  Nope. Nothing.  Is it just me?

Conversely, when I am sitting on the couch at home I can recall, with great detail, all that I have witnessed during those two or three hours glued to my T.V. 

Well, after giving it some thought I realize there are a few common themes to why I continually experience these short term memory lapses when I have the joy of being there….

1. Excitement!

Let’s face it, the thrill of getting a ticket to the game, especially if it a last minute thing, is the best.  Phone rings…it’s your best buddy…”Dude, I just scored an extra ticket to the Sox-Yanks tonight.  You in???!!!”

“DAMN STRAIGHT I AM IN!” 

Without giving a thought to work obligations, family commitments or any other previously scheduled engagements, the inherent nature of any self-proclaimed real man is to say ‘YES’ when asked to go to a game (multiply that by a factor of 10 if it involves playoffs or championships).

Your brain immediately goes into a frenzied state and I believe this is the precursor to the contraction of SEAS Disorder: Sports Event Amnesia Syndrome

{Go ahead and look it up Dr. I.M. Smartassenthal, it’s a real disease!}

2. Pre-Game

I will admit it - my exuberance before a game can sometimes (and by “sometimes” I mean “every time”) shift into overdrive.  Be it one of the quiet watering holes near the ball park or a full blown tailgate outside the stadium…it is going to get the best of me.  For whatever reason, I believe I am somehow transformed into Superman (or a 19 year old college sophomore again…God those were good days…I was 20 pounds lighter…could drink all day and never get a hangov….wait, sorry) in terms of consumption.  Consumption in all forms.  Instead of sipping a beer, I am shot-gunning a 6-pack.  Rather than enjoy a nice hotdog, I am inhaling 2 loaded sausages and one of those giant pretzels.  Oh, and how a bout a nice 3-foot-long-neck-breaking Cuban cigar!  Why not, it is Tuesday night after all!

Too much bad stuff coming into this 36 year old excuse for a body way too fast – it is going to beat me.

3. Just Shutup!

OK, so in addition to drinking, eating, and smoking far more than I do on most Tuesday nights, I also find I can not shut my damn mouth.  Suddenly, I think I am freaking Chris Berman.  Spewing my off-color, inaccurate, home-town-biased analysis of the pending game to anyone who will listen (of course that is between the taunting of opposing fans and funneling that Busch Light that somehow found it’s way into the cooler).  This verbal diarrhea begins sometime around the phone call invite from my buddy and ends approximately 1 second after my team starts to lose.  No siree, my idle banter can not be contained and I realize instead of rooting for my team I  find myself intertwined in a heated debate about batting averages with some drunk soccer mom sitting behind me.  Or maybe I am the drunk one?  Hmm?  Here nor there!

Why?  I don’t know…but I wish I could stop.

4. LOOK!

The last, but perhaps the most clear and obvious, reason why I can never seem to recall what I witness at the game is distractions.  Think about it.  You are surrounded by insane fans, loud music, beautiful she-fans in creative team dress, fat drunk guys, skinny drunk guys, food vendors, hat vendors and sometimes fat, drunk, hat-wearing food vendors.  It is all right there in front of me in hi-definition and, frankly, it’s a little too much for this guy’s small brain to process!

So, in closing, when you take a close look at it, my continuous battle with S.E.A.S. makes a world of sense.  I morph into an over-eating, Leaving-Las-Vegas-drinking, village-idiot-screaming super-fan that has no recollection of who scored, who won and, on special occasions, WHO PLAYED….but man, did I have fun being there!

Thanks again for the ticket, bro!

Trade Slows: Are Trade Shows A Things of the Past?

(Apologies for the quietness on the blogging - a little post-Labor Day writer's block!  Hold onto your hats, I actually produce statistics in this one!)

Trade Shows - a long time sales and marketing tool used in every industry from plumbing to pornography.  If you have not had the (insert chuckle) pleasure of attending a trade show, allow me to relay the experience.  Basically, industry professionals cluster into a large exhibit hall or conference center to display their products and services – typically occupying 10 ‘x 10’ spaces all in a row.  Picture endless aisles of booths and banners filled with overzealous sales people just dying to spray their victims with verbal garbage about whatever it is they are selling.

Years ago, trade shows made a lot of sense for business development.  These events provided a venue where buyers could seek out a variety of products and services in one spot versus hours of research and endless sales people at their doors.  For sellers, trade shows provided an audience of buyers in one location and the opportunity for lead generation far exceeding any week (if not month) of sales calls.  It made sense and has been a part of nearly all businesses for a very long time.

OK, here is the bad news, and a reality - trade shows are reaching extinction.  Like dinosaurs and quality sitcoms – they are quickly becoming a thing of the past.  Like the Tyrannosaurus Rex and Seinfeld before them, trade shows are swiftly vanishing from existence.  Sure, trade shows still take place every day in every city in every industry…but I would argue they have become a useless and unnecessary business tool. 

In today’s world, why do we need to spend money and time to travel to some random city to find a product or service we are in need of?  You have heard of Google, right?  In less than 5 seconds I can find 700 places to purchase second hand lawn mower wheels…why in the world would I need to travel to East Bumblecrack, Kansas to attend the International Association of Pre-Owned Lawn Mower Parts Distributors (IAPOMPD for you acronym freaks!) Annual Conference?

B to B (‘Business to Business’) Magazine reports budgets for trade show exhibiting are expected to decline 17% this year, while the number of trade shows that exhibitors are planning to participate in should drop by about the same amount, according to the Trade Show Exhibitors Association (TSEA).

According to TSEA’s newly released “2009 Exhibit Marketing Survey,” budgets for exhibiting will decrease to an average of $381,000 per company this year, down from last year’s $459,100. In addition, the average number of trade shows that companies expect to exhibit at this year is 25, down from 30 last year.

Those facts aside, let me make a confession – I have exhibited at many trade shows.  I have been that pathetic soul trying to get your attention.  If you have not lived a day in the life of a trade show exhibitor, it’s easy to explain.  It feels like the you are the third string trombone player in the high school band,  its 2 weeks before prom and you don’t have a date yet – your prospects are VERY limited and you will solicit anyone who will listen to you…even if it means begging or bribery. 

And that’s why trade shows are a thing of the past – no one needs to be harassed to find something they need.  Besides being a great excuse to get out of the office for a day or 2, they are no longer a viable tool. 

Take the time to review your annual marketing budget and determine if your usual trade show schedule really makes sense?  Look at the return on investment from the past 3 years’ trade shows?  How many leads converted to actual business?

Look into more current lead generation tools such as search engine optimization – it may be time to make a change?

Of course, I have never attended the Porn Convention…maybe I am wrong?

Drinking with Clients: The Ozzy Experiment

(The following story is based in actual events but I have used aliases to protect the names of the innocent.)

Relationships with clients can be tough - especially new clients. You spend your days trying to impress, service and up sell them at any opportunity available. Their job is to ensure their boss that they have chosen the best vendor, for the best product/service/, for the best price. If that means they need to be difficult, or even flat out unreasonable, so be it. They are not in business to be your friend.

With that stated, the best customer relationships develop when you break down the office walls and actually make a personal connection with one another. Individuals you regard and trust as friends - whether they are the landscaper or the Fortune 500 - result in your top customers.

To that end, the way to expedite those bonds is taking things out of the office. Chances are you have spent numerous hours (maybe days?) with this person you are selling your products and services. Time to ‘peel the onion’ and discover what lies beneath this person; besides spreadsheets and schematics. Whether you have finally consummated a deal or simply agree to take business away from the board room for a change, you decide it is time to loosen things up.

Hold on to our hats.

The first time you dip into social waters with a client (or prospect); you are willingly entering a new stratosphere. As they say, 'Buyer beware'.

Whether the plans involve dinner, a ball game or a Mexican cock fight - prepare yourself to see a different side of Sears.

The person you may perceive as Ozzie Nelson (1950s sitcom reference, kids, about a conservative American family) may actually turn out to be more of an Ozzy Osborne (no explanation required here)!

Which Ozzy will you be entertaining?

Ozzie Nelson

Scenario #1 - The Ozzie Nelson

You make plans to meet “Ozzie” at an agreed upon restaurant. Odds are that you have chosen an upscale, yet comfortable, spot to have a few cocktails and an agreeable meal. Upon arrival, you and Ozzie exchange your typical hellos. You both order an alcoholic beverage - but a conservative one. Ozzie has a glass of Merlot and you an Amstel Light. You exchange some pleasantries but in all likelihood you are just talking business in a different environment. The night progresses and things loosen up. The two of you enjoy a nice dinner and conversation. By the end of the evening you learn that each of you has a daughter that takes ballet and your wives both went to the University of Who Gives A Crap. Nonetheless, you have made a connection. You finish the evening, shake hands and part company. Before you walk away, Ozzie casually informs you that your company will be receiving a pending deal very soon.

Sweet – mission accomplished!

Good night, Mr. Nelson - say hello to Harriet and boys!

Ozzy Osbourne

Scenario #2 - The Ozzy Osbourne

You stand at the bar sipping a beer. You are intentionally early to ensure you have the restaurant scoped out. Bartender has your corporate credit card in hand, your table is standing ready. Enter your soon to be new best friend; "Ozzy 'Bark at the Moon' Osbourne". Slightly hesitant, but with a cool confidence, Ozzy quickly says hello to you and proceeds to order a double Jack & Gasoline on the rocks. Immediately taken back, you decide to follow suit and order your own Man Juice to let Ozzy that you are a serious business man but can let your proverbial hair down too. Three stiff drinks later you suggest you sit for dinner (truthfully, you need some bread before you yak in the coat room). Almost instantly, Ozzy is like your long lost brother. Sharing inappropriate details about his life, his marriage, his time in juvenile prison. Wisely, you smile and continue to drink at the pace of Wyatt Earp before the standoff at the OK Corral.

Before you know it you are getting the "I love you, mans" from the former Black Sabbath front man. While you are flattered, things are starting to border on surreal and uncomfortable. As dinner concludes you think you see daylight and prepare yourself for the dangerous fantastic voyage that is your commute home. Pump the brakes, my friend, we are just getting started.
As you hit the sidewalk and inhale the fresh night air, you quickly realize that your hopes of simply saying goodnight and getting the hell out of dodge are vanishing. Ozzy suggests another "stop". You guessed it - primitive male heaven - The Gentlemen's Club.  Tired, a little tipsy and somewhat weirded out- you quickly respond, "Hell yeah, let's go"!  American Express in hand you are already playing out the conversation in your head you are sure to be having to your company controller after he notices a $787.00 expense from the "Pink Pony Club". Regardless, this is all in the name of business - we march on.

Upon arrival at Chateau de Tramp, you quickly peel off $50 for the cover charge. Before you can recover from that, you have already ordered a couple $25 Vodka/Redbulls. Perfect. Prior to your first sip, Ozzy has already vanished into the Champagne Room with Marilyn Mon-Ho and charged it to your tab. Aces. You try to blend in. Sit through a few stage dances. Look at your watch. Nurse another drink in hopes that 'The Prince of Darkness' will be back soon and you can end this mid-life crises bachelor party. An hour later, the man you pray will be your next great white whale of client now returns to the table smelling of cheap rum and even cheaper perfume. You act cool. "What’s up, brother? Good time," you inquire? Suddenly you realize that Ozzy has taken a turn for the worst. Barely coherent and the expression of an alleged serial rapist on his face it dawns on you that you now have the burden of getting this maniac home.

By now it is 1:30AM on a Wednesday and you are 30 miles from home. Ozzy is a cool 50 miles away from his den of iniquity. In the interest of speed, you load him in a taxi and hand the cabbie $4000. "Please, take this guy to 125 Lonely Heart Lane in What-the-Hell-Just-Happened, Mass. Thanks, pal,".
And off he goes.

You jump in your car and take the One-Eye Expressway home and pray for a new tomorrow.
Arrive in your office the next morning after a night aboard the Crazy Train and the phone rings.

"Oh, hey Ozzy!?!"

"Great time last night, man", proclaims the Blizzard of Ozz.

"Yeah...it sure was," you gingerly respond.

"I'll be sending over that purchase order later today. Thanks again for a great time," proclaims an apparent clear minded Ozzy.

Touchdown.

"When we are we doing that again, Ozz-Man, ol buddy, ol pal," you shout.

While both evenings proved successful from a business standpoint, the question remains….which Ozzy would you like to entertain?  Dare I ask?