Business…Friday, I had a piece go up on ESPN’s Page 3 on the dreadful soundtrack to NCAA 2006. Madden comes out today, but I’m too far removed from my PlayStation to be at the store for a while. Plus, I wouldn’t wanna be put into a position where I had to push a child down to get mine. Fred once did that to a kid in Wal-Mart over a PS2 the day they came out. That lil’ sucker should have been resting up for school, though. That’s what he gets.
Anyway, back to NABJ…

I guess my primary reason for hitting NABJ was to do some networking. Schmoozing, yanno? I really was up to attend the sessions and learn a few things, but I really needed to meet some people. For five years, I’ve run my career from various dorm rooms, apartments, etc., and neither place is exactly a hangout for other writers. Many people have been kind enough to help me out with advice and contacts, but I needed to be able to look in people’s eyes, shake their hands, and establish that repoire. This ain’t playtime, man. The SSP I do here at Virtual Bomaniland is no longer enough.
But see, here’s the problem…there’s only so much good that can come from running up on people with business cards. Everybody and their granny has a business card, so that will not differentiate anyone from the pack. The only way that simply passing business cards off on folks would be sufficient would be if one printed a physical description of one’s self on the card, just in case folks forget. For example, my card now says, “Bomani Jones, Writer/Columnist.” If all I’m doing is making small talk and passing cards, the card better say, “Bomani Jones, the tall, skinny dude that walked around the lobby in a Larry Johnson UNLV throwback on Thursday night.”
That was the one flaw I noticed in people’s networking strategies over the weekend. We all want to meet people, and most of us loved the convention because it gave us the opportunity to meet people that we’d only seen on television. As a result, a lot of us just walk up to people, start a conversation about who-the-hell-knows-what, and hand off cards. The more enterprising among us come with packets of clips.
I personally found that approach to be terribly uncomfortable, and I realized it in a situation where I wasn’t actually trying to network. I saw Stuart Scott at the conference. Stu appeared to be a pretty cool cat, so I decided to go and talk to him about those Tar Heels. (Or, as they’re known at Dook, the 2005 Men’s Basketball National Champion North Carolina Tar Heels, which can be shortened to “Daddy.”)
Either way, I started talking to Stu, and I realized I had little to nothing to say, really. I knew him as well as he knew me, which was to say not at all. So, I’m standing there trying to make a conversation work, and I was failing miserably. Miserably, I tell you. If felt like I had approached a woman in the club out of nowhere and just tried to have a conversation cold. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t. But almost without fail, such a situation is awkward.
Then, I stopped and tried to figure out if there were any difference between what I did with Stu–and really, with a few other people–and approaching a woman, and there was none. Then, I started making sure I didn’t seem like I was actually flirting, dig?
When I looked at it like that, I realized the cold approach wasn’t going to work. There had to be a better way.
Then, I accidentally stumbled upon it.
The Sports Task Force, which was chaired by Roxanne Jones (my boss over at ESPN.com right now), held a seminar on the NBA’s new age-limit that was titled, “The NBA Age-Limit: Racist or Good Business?” The panel was comprised of Michael Curry, past president of the National Basketball Players Association; Pete Smith, father of Hawks’ phenom Josh Smith; Karen Russell, daughter of Bill and, more importantly, a Harvard Law grad; Rod Strickland, former NBA point guard; and Bill Rhoden of the New York Times.
Points went back and forth about the age-limit, but the discussion didn’t sit well with me. The big thing was that I’m not sold that the age limit is either racist or good business. I definitely think the public desire for an age limit is steeped in a racist paternalism, but I don’t think that David Stern is necessarily thinking with the racist side of his brain. He might be, but someone’s going to have to give me more than conjecture to make me believe that. As for the good business, there are waaaay more flops that went to college than flops that didn’t. Never lose sight of that.
(In fact, if you like, you can send me an e-mail and I’ll tell you just why I don’t think the age limit will affect business that much. I must warn you, though, that my answer is steeped in economic theory. You may hear the words “conditional expectation” a few times.)
Either way, the session rolled on and we got to the Q&A portion of the program. This is always awkward for me because I always have questions, but I’m always fearful of saying something stupid or mentioning something that’s already been said. Nobody wants to ask a question and hear, “that’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.” And, in academia, even if those words aren’t used, that sentiment tinges the answer to nearly every question asked.
But this time, I had to ask. So, I was called on and, more nervously than anyone could tell, I asked my question.
“I’m just not sold that this is either racist or good business. Mr. Rhoden said that, in every sport that becomes dominated by blacks, some measures are taken to cut that dominance down. So if we measure racism as such, then I would need to see some reduction in the numbers of blacks that play in the league as a result of the limit to sell me on racism, and I don’t see that happening. How do you think this will reduce the numbers of blacks in the league? It seems like the boys that would have come out at 18 will simply come out at 19.
As for good business, I think the age limit is a way of general managers to try to avoid having to make decisions about high school players because they are difficult to evaluate. The thing is that they get college players wrong, too, so I’m not sure that this will be either one. Do you have any thoughts on that?”
And then I was done. Deep breath time for me. The panel, however, went silent, which was nerve-racking for me.
Rod Strickland looked at me and said, “I don’t know if that was a question, but that’s a really good point.”
And the panel stayed silent.
As did the room.
Very awkward, but still golden.
After the session was over, two different people gave me cards and said that I should send them clips. People stopped and talked to me in the hallway that never would have spoken to me otherwise. It worked out well.
Much better than dishin’ out cards.
Young writers–and I definitely am one, so I’m not separating myself from the group–it seems to me that the most effective way to make an impression at these conferences is to ask good questions in sessions and after them. You need to be able to look people in the eye, confidently make points, and respectfully ask for feedback from the people around you. The impression to make is not one of a charmer or someone that’s really cool. The impression that need be made is one of a critical thinker, someone able to process information into something relevant and interesting. If you can do that on the fly, imagine how interested someone will be in what you could do on the page?
That’s the ticket, I believe. Definitely press up those cards, and definitely prepare to talk to folks and meet them. The card will get you farther, though, if you give someone a good question to associate with your name and information.
(This also applies to all those with aspirations to be in academia. In fact, this is simply a transferral of what I learned going to conferences with academics.)
But that’s my thought. Anyone that can give some additional advice to folks is more than welcome to do so in the comments.
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Okay, there’s more. I’m looking at the list and realizing there is definitely more. Might update again today, but I’m not sold. Almost certainly, the next update will be “Time Mellows a Brotha.” More likely, Luther will do that one. Many things had him irate, and a couple of him didn’t even happen to him.
That Luther’s such a combustible kid.