I am not a big fan of this time of year. I know I sound like a Scrooge, but everyone in sports media sales knows this is one of the worst times to try and do business. There is a ton pending and everyone is either at a holiday party or using up vacation time and nobody wants to buy.
So, I put this together for you. A little holiday poetry that allows me to vent a bit about what we go through in mid to late December:
‘Twas two weeks before Christmas, when in the sales pit,
Not a seller was selling, not even a bit.
They picked up the phones, in their cubicle with care,
In hopes that a buyer, would actually be there.
The sellers all wondered, why it seemed so dead,
While visions of annuals, danced in their head.
The GM’s in their ‘kerchief, with a pacing report in their lap,
Wondering if the AE’s, went down for a long winter’s nap.
While out in traffic, there arose such a clatter,
I put down my cell phone, to see what was the matter.
Away to the window, I flew like a bat,
To make sure the tower, hadn’t fallen down flat.
The engineer went for a look, assuming despair,
To make sure the stations, were still on the air.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a local ad agency, being pulled by reindeer
With that old nasty buyer, so mean and so crude,
I knew, in a moment she’d cop a ‘tude.
More rapid than eagles, she looked at our brands,
And she screamed, and shouted, and made her demands.
Now 15’s, now 30’s, now 60’s and lives!
I need sponsorships and billboards, for an order this size.
To the top of the ratings, or the bottom will fall,
Plus added value! added value! added value for all!
Her eyes did not twinkle! Her dimples weren’t merry!
But I had to be nice, or things could get hairy.
So, I gave her a holiday gift, all wrapped with a bow,
And then asked, “Are first quarter buys ready to go?”
She got that look on her face, and gritted her teeth,
The smoke out her ears, circled her head like a wreath.
They’d be ready by late January, if I was lucky at all,
And hopefully they won’t cancel, like they did in the fall.
Sometimes they speak not a word, and want us to do the work,
Then when we follow up too often, they say we’re the jerk.
It was our idea, our schedule and our copy you sent,
But, yet you still gladly took your fifteen percent.
So, back to their sleigh, to her team gave a whistle,
Quickly, back to their offices, as fast as a missile.
But I heard her exclaim, ere they drove out of sight,
Merry Christmas to all, we’ll see you next flight.