The Relief Pitch

Katie never got tired of looking around the stadium when it was packed with Iguanas fans, but she also appreciated the atmosphere after the game, when the only people left were her colleagues in the front office and some cleaning crew members. It reminded her of when all the lights came on after a Broadway show or a night of dancing at a wedding reception, everyone ready to go home after making new memories. And the people who worked at the venue could bask in a job well done before they had to focus on the next big event.

Her job as the Iguanas’ social media coordinator felt like a dream come true. She had never been very good at ticket sales, the common entry-level job for young sports professionals just out of college. In her current position, she still got to see baseball fans having a good time, but could put her social media savvy and creativity to work. Her boss Taylor, the Iguanas’ marketing director, was a solid mentor who encouraged her to share her ideas and helped tweak them when they didn’t quite work. 

Lately, though, Katie’s friends had pointed out how tired she looked when she spent time with them. They understood her busy schedule and supported her dreams but reminded her that some of the other goals she had—such as dating and finding a serious relationship—may not be possible on such a demanding work schedule, or at least be that much harder to achieve. They also pointed out how tired she looked when she had time to catch up with them. Katie insisted that the long hours would make anyone tired and at least she was getting to do what she loved. 

Still, though, she couldn’t help but wonder what working a corporate social media or marketing job would be like. The prospects of more regular work hours and not pulling tarp or working in Texan summer conditions were appealing too. So, when her friend Maggie told her about a social media job at her employer, a health insurance provider, Katie decided to apply and made it to the second round of interviews. The company hadn’t made their decision yet, but getting the interviews had opened her up to a whole new range of possibilities, and she was passively looking for more jobs to apply to. But part of her wondered how she could give up a dream job, the one she’d worked towards for four years of college and was always filled with excitement and the instant gratification of seeing likes and comments almost as soon as she put up a video of a home run or a photo of a theme night.

“It’s kind of hard to believe that we’re about to hit the last full month of the season, isn’t it?” Katie’s coworker Brooke, who worked in partnerships, asked. Brooke knew Katie had started feeling out the job market but agreed not to tell anyone else in the front office. 

“It’s my second season in this job and I’m still not used to how fast it goes,” Katie replied. “I feel both happy and sad when I know the end is coming. I’m happy we’ll be relieved of the 80 to 90-hour work weeks, but I’ll miss posting content from the games and interacting with all the fans. I wonder if I’m crazy for even considering moving on. What other job can really replicate this?”

“I don’t know. But I do know you’re not the first person to consider leaving the sports industry. Remember, we work a lot of hours for low pay, and we wear about ten different hats. And you know why we don’t get paid nearly enough: because there’s 500 people behind us who would take our job in a hot second to say they work for the Iguanas. My fiancé is in law school for God’s sake and I can only laugh at our income disparity even though he’s a summer associate right now and not even making a full attorney’s salary. It’ll be even worse once he’s working.”

“Katie, you’re not a bad person for applying for other jobs. What are you so worried about? Is it just because another job won’t seem as fun as this? Because for most people, work isn’t meant to be fun. I have plenty of friends and family who are content or eager to learn in other lines of work, and they probably get a better paycheck than I do, even with my commissions.”

Brooke stopped talking and looked over at Katie, who was glancing down at her sneakers with a sad expression on her face. 

“You don’t really want to quit, do you?” she asked. “That’s OK too. I’m not going to tell you to quit if you’re still happy here. After all, it doesn’t matter what I think.”

“I’m still not sure. I had an interview this week with First Choice. You know, the health insurance company. And I think it went well. I mean, insurance isn’t as exciting as baseball, but I would be working less hours. I’d get to work with Maggie. Plus, it’s health insurance. Everyone needs it. I could still create useful content, share articles, that kind of thing. But I’d miss the excitement of working in baseball.”

“Maggie and some of the other girls we hang out with have also been telling me I look tired when we get together. I brush it off as a side effect of my schedule and the fact that social media is so 24/7, but I have been feeling a bit exhausted lately from going so hard.”

“And you had mono over the winter,” Brooke reminded her. “Did you ever fully recover from that, or do you still have lingering effects?”

Katie cringed. She remembered being bedridden in February and missing out on valuable time planning for the upcoming season, when her doctor told her she initially needed to work less hours once she got back to the office. Taylor had understood and accommodated her, especially since it was the offseason and easier for someone else to temporarily take over her duties. However, her case has been more severe and required a longer recovery time. 

“I have had to leave early a few times this season when it wasn’t my night off,” she recalled. “And there are times when I just go home and crash almost as soon as I can take off my makeup and put on pajamas. The other day, I was so tired I forgot to brush my teeth before bed. Thank God I don’t have a boyfriend right now. No way any man would have kissed me with that breath. I know that’s not healthy, especially after everything I went through over the winter. Some days I feel like a 75-year-old woman.” 

“I don’t exercise like I used to, either. I can’t really go to my HIIT classes much anymore. Before I had mono, I went 2-3 times a week; now it’s more like once every other week. I’ve been getting sick easier ever since too. I had a cold during the last road trip. I think my immune system is shot.”

“I’m no doctor, but that sounds about right,” Brooke said. “I know how upsetting being sick was for you. In my opinion, no job is worth that. Baseball will be around forever. Your health won’t be. As long as you’re in sports, you’ll never really be able to cut down on your hours.” 

“Have you found any other jobs to apply for?” 

“I haven’t put too much time into it, no. And that’s the other thing. Who actually likes job searching? It could be months or even another year before I get out of here.”

“So that means you should never move on? Sometimes the best things in life are worth waiting for. Tim and I have a hell of a time making our relationship a priority, but we love each other even though my job is slower during the law school year when he’s hunkered down reading and outlining. We’ll do whatever it takes, even if it means going for pizza on an off day before the homestand. Besides, once we get married and he finishes school, I don’t know how much longer I’ll stay in sports either. Attorneys work a lot; I don’t want us to never have time together during the summer.”

“Hey, I have an idea. Have you been keeping in touch with Brian since he left?” Brooke was referring to their former colleague, who worked in ticket sales and decided to get a new job once he found out he and his wife were expecting a baby. He’d left the front office when she was about six months pregnant and now worked in tech sales. 

“Not really,” Katie answered. “I mean, we’re connected on LinkedIn, but I can’t say we talk.”

“It may help if you reach out to him. Listen, I talked to him before he left, and he said while he’d never forget his time working in baseball and moving around the country, once Tori told him she was pregnant, everything changed for him. He couldn’t imagine missing out on time with his wife and baby while he basically disappeared in the summer. He still has to work hard to meet quota, but he likes the work-life balance in tech and he doesn’t have to make calls or research prospects until 10:00 at night.” 

“Working for a sports team is not the only thing in life worth something, you know? Maybe your health is what makes the difference for you, but the concept is still the same.” 

“I say it can’t hurt to reach out to him and ask him how his life has been since leaving. What he’s enjoying, what he misses, would he make the same decision again? There are pros and cons to everything, after all. Hearing from someone who’s made the leap might be the answer you need.”

“That’s actually a really good idea,” Katie said. “I’ll have to do that after this homestand.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’d be happy to either email you or meet up for coffee.”

Brooke put an arm around Katie. “And hey, no matter what, you’re still my friend and one of my bridesmaids. I don’t care where you work. I care about our friendship and the memories we’ve made. You’ve really been a huge help with the wedding planning, and Tim and I can’t wait to have you stand up with all our other friends and relatives in the wedding party.”

“You’ll make the right choice,” she assured her. “The right thing is what’s best for you, after all, so how can you be wrong? You may question yourself initially, but you’ll end up where you’re meant to.”

“Unfortunately, right now, we’re meant to go back into the office and finish cleaning up,” Katie joked. “I think Rob’s going to notice that our walkthrough is taking too long.”

“Probably,” Brooke laughed in agreement. “Let’s go. Only three more games left this homestand. Put one foot in front of the other and we’ll get through it.” She stopped and picked up a napkin off the ground, in order to make it seem like she and Katie were actually being productive, and they started walking back inside.