The Goalie Playbooklace up. you're hitting the ice
We know the first days and weeks at a new job can be nerve wracking; we've been there. Walking into an office full of Goalies can seem daunting. We can be a loud bunch, music wars are happening on the daily, there are nerf darts randomly whizzing by your head, and everyone seems to have a super weird nickname. It's hard enough learning one name for each person, but now you've got to learn two.
Rest easy. Pretty soon you'll feel like you've been here forever, and you'll be joining in on a riveting round of hypothetical discussions.
Speaking of ... you're walking in a forest and you find a black suitcase. Inside it holds $1,000,000 and a piece of paper stained in blood with a single word. "Don't". Would you take the suitcase home or leave it?
aware·ness | ə-ˈwer-nəs
1: ability to know one’s strengths and weaknesses
2: ability to know one’s environment
dex·ter·i·ty | dek-ˈster-ə-tē
: the fine-tuned control over one’s talents to succeed in an array of situations
fo·cus | fōkəs
: the foundation on which all other values rely
pas·sion | ˈpa-shən
: the powerhouse responsible for energy to achieve the monumental
sports·man·ship | ˈsports-mən-ˌship
: respect for the game, the officials, and the other players. See also: integrity
My first week on the job I felt a bit of a mid-afternoon hunger pang and made my way over to the snack machine, prominently placed in the corner of the office. I was taken aback at the number of delectable treats staring back at me, separated only by a thin sheet of glass and a mere twenty-five cent paywall. I smacked my lips as my stomach grumbled, " twenty-five cents for a four-dollar pack of beef jerky? I'm going to bankrupt this place!" I thought to myself as I fumbled around my pocket for change. Over the coming months I would assert myself as "The Sultan of Snacks", "The Chief of Chips", and "The Glutton of Goldfish".
Weeks later I came to work, ready to purchase my usual breakfast of Doritos and a Clif Bar, when I noticed that the picture on the snack machine had been replaced with a picture of myself, looking as dapper and fit as one could expect with my diet. I was humbled and honored to accept my new position as "Chief Snack Officer", a position which I don't take lightly.
When I asked our CEO, Mark Simons, about the picture, hanging next to all of the sweet and salty snacks, he issued the following statement. "We take nutrition and wellness seriously at The Goal, and when someone is standing in front of the snack machine, making a decision that could affect both their waistline and their blood pressure, we want to remind them, that if they make the right choices, maybe one day they can be as handsome as our Chief Snack Officer, Turner "Swaggy-T" Phelps"
Thank you and God Bless,
Turner "Swaggy-T" Phelps
Chief Snack Officer, The Goal
NEED TIME OFF TO RECHARGE?
HUDDLE WITH YOUR TEAM TO MAKE SURE THEY HAVE YOU COVERED.
This speech was more Belfort than head coach. Mark would be launching a contest; he was calling the “Race For Center Ice”. The idea was simple, close more deals, and work harder than your colleagues, and The Goal will make you rich. The team bubbled with excitement and anticipation, visions of Jay-Z’s “Big Pimpin” video danced in my head as I planned on how I would spend my bonus. Payouts were announced for 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place for both the sales and recruiting side of the house. As an addition, anyone who got to center ice, would be added to the next incentive trip (Dominican Republic this year). Immediately the pit went into overdrive, recruiters were working late, coming in on weekends, and watching the leaderboard to see where they ranked among those vying for center ice.
In the coming months, several Goalies would make it to center ice and announcements would be made, and checks would be written. Some Goalies, like Kyle Roehm, invested their winnings wisely in a blend of stocks and bonds, others like Harold Dill and Brandon Boone, spent lavishly on new suits and exotic vacations. The race has been such a success that Mark issued a statement shortly after the first announcement; this would not be a one-time contest driving a short spike in activity. The “Race For Center Ice” would be an on-going part of Goalie culture and a rallying cry meant to sharpen focus and effort. Once the winner’s checks were written for 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place, the contest would simply start over and another sprint for center ice would begin. As the wise man Puff Daddy once said, “It’s all about the Benjamins baby.”
don't be this guy.