Ah, the 21st century. Where great technological advances have been bestowed upon us. Things such as HDTV, 1080P, the iPod and DVR have arisen. As far as web based goes, MySpace, Facebook, YouTube and Twitter, have all emerged as the 21st century's version of boy bands.
Not only can you keep in touch with old friends via the aforementioned web sites, but now you can tell people what you are doing, at the precise moment you are doing it. Grabbing some coffee? Twitter it. Miss an old friend? MySpace them. The possibilities are endless.
The primary reason for my writing this column is because a few articles I've read recently have touched on the topic of companies hiring, or for the most part, denying potential employees, based on what they see on their favorite social networking site. Occasionally, you hear of people getting into some form of trouble because of these. Whether it be a call-in at work because they're too hungover from partying but haphazardly placed drunken photos of themselves from the night before on their site or even those stupid enough to put photos of themselves doing/selling drugs.
But that's where this question arises: How can a company dictate whether or not that applicant will be a poor employee?
It's hard to imagine that anyone making this form of decision has never experienced a drunken night out them self, perhaps not as openly as some do in today's age, but at least one or two times is a definite. To deduce someones attributes and tendencies by judging what they see on their site seems rather rash, to say the least. Then again, perhaps the company would benefit from hiring someone who seems bland on their page, as they may have less of a chance to bring any negative connotations to them or the company as a whole.
However, this whole situation has me pondering: What if I have chosen not to partake in any of these social networking sites?
My brother and I had a discussion about this nearly a year ago. While I was getting in to the whole MySpace/Facebook thing, he elected not to. "They're stupid," he said. At first, I thought that he was missing out on staying connected with friends, old friends, family perhaps, but after I thought more about it, he was right. Inevitably, I stopped using Facebook/MySpace as it became extremely tedious and, to be frank, ridiculous.
But by ridding myself of these annoyances, did I do myself a disservice? If I'm applying for a potential career-type position, will I be examined differently because I've chosen this route?
For example, let's say you apply for a job at Thingamajig as a possible marketer. While reviewing my application they see everything that they would want in their potential hire. However, when they check to see what social networking site I use, and they come up empty handed, do they assume that I am not social? Do they say "Whoa, wait a minute, this guy's job is coming up with marketing plans, interacting with clients, be an extrovert...why doesn't he use MySpace or Facebook like everyone else? Hmm, he may not be the candidate we're looking for." To me, this scenario seems completely plausible, albeit hypothetical.
Maybe this is the world we live in now; where people you don't know have a better idea of who or what you are then those who are actually close to you. But I know one things for sure, I won't be a part of it...again.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Show me the money
In these economic times, how are some of these athletes still receiving such egregious contracts?
I found myself thinking last night about home-grown players who wind up playing for whatever team it is that they grew up idolizing. It saddens me that these types of players, or players who've spent a majority of their career with the same franchise, will still sign a contract for 40, 60, 80 million.
I have always dreamed that I'd someday either be A) the closer for the Sox, or B) the 1st basemen for the Sox. I think about what would happen if it was me who was called up. The financial and emotional tension that would arise seems astronomical. Think of all the people who were once acquaintances, now trying to become your friend. But that's not what this about. It's about doing what you love and getting paid for it.
It seems as if these athletes don't realize that their job entails the following:
1. Playing a professional sport and making millions of dollars in the process.
2. Signing autographs for kids who would give anything to be you.
3. Doing contract related stuff (i.e. Photo shoots, commercials, etc.).
4. Never working a day in a cubicle!
And this is what gets me. Hypothetically speaking, if I'm called up to close for the Sox, of course I take it. Let's even say I take it and I excel. Excel to the point that they want to negotiate some form of long term deal and avoid arbitration.
There we sit, negotiating a contract. Of course I represent myself, because agents are the worst thing to happen to baseball since the 1919 World Series. They push a paper across the table with an offer that basically looks like this: 4-year, 15 million. Sweet, they've got me locked in for 4 years and since I'm young, they know that in the last year or two of my contract, they'll be paying little for significant talent. But here's where the problem lies; I don't want 15 million. To put 15 million into perspective think of it as this: that's 750,000 dollars every year for the next 20 years. And to think that there are players who are making 20, 25, 28 million per year. If I ever get to a point in my life where I'm making 750,000 dollars and I feel that's still not enough, then someone needs to put me out of my misery.
In this scenario however, I tell them, "Hey, I love it here, the fans are great, how about we just do 4 year, 10 million." Now some might say, "Oh Rich, big deal you cut back 5 million but you're still getting 10 million." People don't realize how much financial constraint that a move like that alleviates. The MLB league minimum is $390,000. Think about it.
Others who are against big contracts may argue that 10 million is still far too much. Perhaps, but keep in mind, I may be playing on a team where a guy is making 18 million per season. He could be the best thing to happen to the city. Fans love him, he loves them. He sees a guy like me, merely an up-and-comer, taking a pay cut for the team. Imagine the heat that may come down on this guy. I mean this is the guy who can walk around his team's city and get more women then Don Draper. But what can you do.
Someday these players will realize that there's no 'I' in 'team'. But then again, they may already realize that there's a 'me' in 'money'.
I found myself thinking last night about home-grown players who wind up playing for whatever team it is that they grew up idolizing. It saddens me that these types of players, or players who've spent a majority of their career with the same franchise, will still sign a contract for 40, 60, 80 million.
I have always dreamed that I'd someday either be A) the closer for the Sox, or B) the 1st basemen for the Sox. I think about what would happen if it was me who was called up. The financial and emotional tension that would arise seems astronomical. Think of all the people who were once acquaintances, now trying to become your friend. But that's not what this about. It's about doing what you love and getting paid for it.
It seems as if these athletes don't realize that their job entails the following:
1. Playing a professional sport and making millions of dollars in the process.
2. Signing autographs for kids who would give anything to be you.
3. Doing contract related stuff (i.e. Photo shoots, commercials, etc.).
4. Never working a day in a cubicle!
And this is what gets me. Hypothetically speaking, if I'm called up to close for the Sox, of course I take it. Let's even say I take it and I excel. Excel to the point that they want to negotiate some form of long term deal and avoid arbitration.
There we sit, negotiating a contract. Of course I represent myself, because agents are the worst thing to happen to baseball since the 1919 World Series. They push a paper across the table with an offer that basically looks like this: 4-year, 15 million. Sweet, they've got me locked in for 4 years and since I'm young, they know that in the last year or two of my contract, they'll be paying little for significant talent. But here's where the problem lies; I don't want 15 million. To put 15 million into perspective think of it as this: that's 750,000 dollars every year for the next 20 years. And to think that there are players who are making 20, 25, 28 million per year. If I ever get to a point in my life where I'm making 750,000 dollars and I feel that's still not enough, then someone needs to put me out of my misery.
In this scenario however, I tell them, "Hey, I love it here, the fans are great, how about we just do 4 year, 10 million." Now some might say, "Oh Rich, big deal you cut back 5 million but you're still getting 10 million." People don't realize how much financial constraint that a move like that alleviates. The MLB league minimum is $390,000. Think about it.
Others who are against big contracts may argue that 10 million is still far too much. Perhaps, but keep in mind, I may be playing on a team where a guy is making 18 million per season. He could be the best thing to happen to the city. Fans love him, he loves them. He sees a guy like me, merely an up-and-comer, taking a pay cut for the team. Imagine the heat that may come down on this guy. I mean this is the guy who can walk around his team's city and get more women then Don Draper. But what can you do.
Someday these players will realize that there's no 'I' in 'team'. But then again, they may already realize that there's a 'me' in 'money'.
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