I had the unique opportunity this spring to intern in the Seattle Mariners Scouting Department for ten weeks. I made my living arrangement via craigslist, budgeted some money, and prepared to live, learn, and work without pay in a strange new place.
Lessons were many and close together (the opposite of few and far between), but I had a few favorites.
One of the main Baseball Operations executives, a 28-year veteran of the business, summed up the front office in a more interesting way than anyone else.
He said that 90% of the employees are fans - they want the Mariners to win, but they will continue hiring, firing, adding, subtracting, copying, faxing, emailing, lunching, and vacationing no matter how the Mariners do.
The other 10% are putting their careers and reputations on the line every day and night, with every trade and contract extension, with every press release and interview. These are the people that I worked with. They are not there to do a good job, they are there to win.
When their efforts produce victories, the mood is pleasant and times are great. When everything they’ve done results in failure, objects fly through the air or are otherwise destroyed and the atmosphere is gloomy and threatening.
Thanks to this conversation, I was able to better understand what was really happening while the big boys were upending popcorn boxes and smashing crackers when the Mariners weren’t playing well. They’re deeply invested in the fortune of the team and the bottom line. I wasn’t able to put it together myself because I was invested in myself!
When I began writing letters to the HR departments of all 30 MLB organizations four years ago, I wanted to do anything to get in the game. I didn’t realize that these franchises are businesses with all of the moving parts of other businesses that I’m not interested in.
Now, having been inside of one for a couple of months, I know that I want to be invested in somebody’s well-being, whether it’s one club, one professional circuit, or, ideally, the game of baseball itself.