On The Girls in the Front Row

I just met "The Girls in the Front Row". And I cried.

I recently moved back to Kingston (yey!) and was presented with an opportunity to consult with a local author on publicizing her book, which is approaching a second edition release date. Knowing nothing about the author or the book, I shrugged to myself, and thought, "Why not?" After all, I am always looking for interesting work opportunities, and my interests are so varied that they tend to find me instead! This was one of those chance situations.

The book is called "The Girls in the Front Row" and it was authored by Linda Gayle Ross. It's odd for me to say that she is the author of the book, since the words and the stories, save for one, are not hers. The project, the book itself, and the feelings it elucidates are most definitely hers. But the stories belong to the Girls in the Front Row.

Who are the Girls in the Front Row? They are motherless daughters; women who lost their mothers young, and had to learn to live without that customary bond, and the assumed guidance of the most important role model in a young girl's life. Some were children when their mom died, some were young adults who were just starting families of their own. Now, they are aged between 16 and 90, and they still feel the pain of losing the opportunity to get to know their mom, let along getting to share their own life experiences with her. Their mom never had a chance of becoming a best friend. The girls didn't have that person to share a big smile with from stage during Convocation. They didn't have that person to run to for comfort no matter what was happening in their "real" lives.

Their stories are varied and so are their experiences and their ability to survive and grow after such a traumatic launch into life as a grown-up. But one thing is clear... The Girls in the Front Row have all, in their own way, had to struggle with pain and fear, and insecurity, and, worst of all, lost hope. Because even though many people have estranged or tense relationships with their moms, there is always hope that things may get better.

For the Girls in the Front Row, there is no hope. There is often grief, guilt, anger, and relief, but not hope.

As I was reading, the tears started to flow. Softly, at first, but with every story, my heart trembled a little more. It wasn't truly out of grief or sadness, but because I wished that I could just reach out a hand to hold theirs, give them a hug in their times of need, past and present, and tell them that someone was there for them. Someone who may not fully understand what they are going through but who could support them while they figured it out.

And then I realized how many Girls in the Front Row I know, personally. Also, boys who lost their mothers young, but, that's a different type of bond. Boys, after all, will never need to call Mom at work to ask what kind of tampons to buy in that first menstrual cycle freak-out moment!

The Girls in the Front Row that I know are all courageous, strong, and successful women. They all admire their moms and miss them very much. They have all adopted behaviours or objects or hobbies that remind them of their mothers. But, you know what? As the book makes very obvious, I have never asked them what happened on the day they lost their Mom. How they felt in that moment. And as one Girl in the Front Row points out, that is sad.

So as I wiped the tears from my face and closed the beautiful, emotion-filled book, I decided that the next time I spoke with my Girls in the Front Row, when the moment was right, I would ask them what happened on the day their mom died. And then hug them as they re-live the trauma and let free the feelings that they usually bottle up and keep for company in their day-to-day lives.

To my Girls in the Front Row, thank you for being such an inspiration.

On working in #sportsbiz

The hardest thing about working in the sports industry is breaking in. There are a ton of blogs that tell that tale, so I will skip over that part of my experience. All you need to know is that I worked hard in multiple internships and contracts in the media industry, from newspapers to live sports broadcast production to earning my communications stripes through volunteer non-profit positions. The only internship I didn't do was one with a sports team, which would've been an asset, but as my other jobs put me in direct contact with team executives, I learned a fair bit about the inner workings of a sport organization through observation and interaction.

When I landed the Director of Media Relations position with the AHL's Hamilton Bulldogs, I was both surprised and relieved. I was surprised not because I wasn't confident about my skills, but because I had interviewed for several sport communications positions in the past few years and never gotten that call. This position was a more senior role than those I had previously applied for, and though I knew I had rocked the interview, I still was apprehensive at my chances. But my hard work and persistence paid off, and I was hired.

Whether it was a case of "right place, right time" or simply because it was my time does not matter. I got in. Finally.

That's when I discovered the second hardest thing about working in the sports industry. The chaos and fatigue of working long days (and nights). I had known that this was the reality in this type of work - and in all media work, actually - but living it in this scenario felt different. Plus, if you're a perfectionist like me, that also means a lot of sleepless nights worrying about how to get things better organized so that you can do the best job you are able to do.

Needless to say, when I was let go in June after a tough season jam-packed with major events and new promotions, I was shocked. I felt like I was still recovering from the past season, and well on my way to setting up the next season so that it would be far less chaotic. I was also hurt and confused. I felt like I had sacrificed so much to finally get my shot at rocking the sports media world and was cut short from doing truly awesome things with the team.

I later discovered that my dismissal was but one element of a major summer restructuring plan, and that I hadn't done anything "wrong". But as anyone who has been laid off can tell you, that doesn't make you feel any better.

My world was a mess. I didn't know what I was doing and where I was going. Eventually, I found out that the remaining executives still thought I was awesome and that my work was brilliant. My work ethic was exemplary, my ideas were awesome, and my strategies and execution were innovative and exceptional. That helped to lessen the blow. But I still felt like I had been stranded on a deserted island, with food and escape routes dangling just out of my reach.

I did what any smart young adult would do. I cut my losses - and my expenses - and went back into student mode. After all, I still had a Master's thesis to write. And as anyone who has worked full-time in sport communications can tell you, I didn't really have any spare time while I was with the Bulldogs. I therefore wasn't able to meet my lofty goal of finishing my thesis while I worked.

And now, I feel like I am back at square one, struggling to get a chance to prove my worth in the sports industry. No experience is ever wasted, to be sure, and holding a senior position in a professional sport organization, however brief that experience was, will certainly help me in my next endeavor. 

But frankly, I thought we'd done this already. I thought we were finally past this point. 

But in my passion and excitement, I had forgotten that the sports industry is volatile and so much of its stability depends on the attitudes of owners, commissioners, and yes, even fans. It is unfortunate that after all these years of pro sports development, its employees are still the ones with the most to lose, especially since having a well-rounded, experienced, passionate and dedicated team of staffers is key to ensuring a team's success in failing markets. After all, you can have the best players in the league, but if no one knows they're there, who's going to buy tickets? Ads? Merchandise?

It may be true that without athletes, there is no professional sports industry. But it takes a committed core group of employees to make it successful.

And so, it's a shame that breaking in to the sports industry remains the hardest thing about working in the sports industry, even for experienced professionals. Whether you've got one year under your belt or 20 years of experience in various positions and markets, this experience has taught me that you are never safe. 

But maybe this is the hardest thing about working in the sports industry. You never can never truly be comforted that your investment is safe and will yield high returns, or any returns at all. And that's why so many of us sail our boats away from the isolated island that is pro sports, searching for more stable waters. A long, fruitful career in the sports industry - in any industry these days, really - is no longer a given, once you've proven your worth. 

And I'm starting to wonder if perhaps it's time for me to sail away as well.

On the 2012 AHL Outdoor Classic

The highlight of my past three months with the Hamilton Bulldogs has got to be the delightfully successful organization of the 2012 AHL Outdoor Classic at Ivor Wynne Stadium on January 20-21.

It was a whirlwind of an event, from planning and preparation to putting on both game days to the wrap-up and all the follow-up needed to ensure that the event was truly successful. A once-in-a-lifetime affair to remember.

My daily to-do list was so extensive, it was hard to imagine that I would ever get through it all. That the day would ever arrive. Eventually, I did, of course, and it did. But it wasn't an easy process. The cameras made it look amazing, but a lot of work went into creating what you saw if you watched the broadcast on Sportsnet or on the NHL Network. A lot of sleepless nights, too, which lead to frustrating conversations in office hallways. But at the end of every overwhelming day, we were all friends again.

In the end, it was all worth it.

It took me until mid-way through the second period of Saturday's game between the Bulldogs and the Toronto Marlies to realize that we'd actually done it. We had put on an Outdoor Classic. All the accreditations had been beautifully designed, assembled, properly distributed; press releases written, spellchecked, printed, sent; food ordered, placed, consumed. Media happy in the press box? Check! Media requests were planned, unplanned, re-planned. Broadcasters accommodated? Check!

Somehow, through all the madness, it all went flawlessly. I still cannot truly understand how that happened. I don't know if I even believe that it did. From the beginning of my time with the 'Dogs, it was all Outdoor Classic all the time. Oh, and, you know, normal everyday regular season activities too. But still, through it all, the focus was the Outdoor Classic. And then, just like that, in 48 hours, it was done. All wrapped up in a pretty little winter package and sent off to live in posterity in the memories of the thousands of fans who populated the stands, and the thousands more who watched it on TV.

Wow. We did it.

I am so proud of our team for putting this on. I am so happy and excited and fortunate to have been a part of this spectacular, once-in-a-lifetime event. And I am absolutely ecstatic at all the positive feedback we received from members of the media, league officials, fans... Amazing. Fantastic. Fabulous.

Thank you all for being a part of it, in your little ways. Whether you attended, watched, participated in helping me brainstorm or listened to my late night rants... Thank you. You were all part of the success of this event. And I couldn't have done it without you.

On moving forward

In case you haven't heard the news, the last month or so has been a whirlwind of change. My life has undergone a complete transformation. I went from a grad student looking for my way to the Director of Media Relations for the Hamilton Bulldogs.

Yeah. Crazy stuff!

So, naturally, I had to pack up all my stuff and move to Hamilton. In about a week and a half. Thankfully, I'd found an apartment just before my trip - yes, I knew way back then but had to keep the secret - and I had also started the process of purchasing a car at that time.

I spent the first week in this adorable retirement home that was basically across the street from Copps Coliseum, aka Work, aka My Second Home. Seriously, I spend lots of time at the rink. But I love it. I really do. I'd forgotten how much I loved reporting from a live game, and live tweeting a game, and most importantly, media planning. Plus, I got thrown right into the middle of things with a huge press conference about the 2012 AHL Outdoor Classic game taking place here in Hamilton on January 20-21st, 2012. SO very excited to be a part of this amazing, exceptional, historic, once-in-a-lifetime event.

But it hasn't been all coming up roses. I've had my share of negative experiences since moving to Steeltown - mainly involving cars. Hilarious (not) stories that I will some day shake my head at and laugh at when I tell them. It's been mostly positive, but as with all transitions, there are always bad moments and good moments. Like realizing I have noisy upstairs neighbours again, or that the work on my apartment wasn't completed before I move in.

But as I have learned, in the grand scheme of things, that's not important. What's important is the people that you surround yourself with and who make a difference in your life. And I have a fantastic network of family and friends. My Kingston friends have been incredibly supportive, and my newfound Hamilton friends are proving to be wonderful as well. Plus, I've had amazing feedback from all my non-local friends. It really does make you feel blessed.

Most importantly, the past month has put me in a whole new frame of mind. Some of the things that used to worry me are no longer at the top of my concerns list. And again, I've learned that I need to let go of things I cannot control.

So my goal for 2012? I resolve to bring only the positive with me into this new year, and leave all the toxic, negative thoughts and experiences behind. I'm excited!! :)

Happy New Year!