Coffee with the First Person to Reject Me for a Job

Late in 1984 – more than a third of a century ago! – I decided that I wanted to follow in my brothers’ footsteps and be involved in local football as they were as boundary umpires.

Alas running and be abused for running didn’t factor high in my short term career goals so (I think it was on the suggestion of one of my brother's friends) I decided that I would train to be a football trainer in the hope of joining a local club.

What that involved was doing an offseason course at the Collingwood Football Club to learn how to strap ankles and wrists from the toils of imaginary gladiatorial action and to be educated in how to massage weary limbs.

Arising out of that education primarily delivered by portly fellows with tongues that were foreign to the fresh ears of a Catholic educated chap like myself, I found myself applying – and getting – a job at the Carlton Football Club as a first aid trainer in what was their third level team, what was referred to as the Under 19s.

So in early 1985 the journey started.

At the end of 1985 an opportunity came up to join the first level team – the Seniors; the august body that played out each weekend in the minds and hearts of the Victorian masses.

I applied.

And waited.

One afternoon at training in early 1986, the Football Manager of the Seniors came over to me at training and told me that I was unsuccessful and that they wanted me to get more experience.

It was a fundamentally important moment in my career and life.

I learned then - and have reminded myself of countless times since - teachings that have stayed with me throughout this marathon we quaintly call a career.

Firstly opportunities are not gifted.

Opportunities are earned.

I was not ready to take on the more senior role and it would have been to my eternal regret had I taken a step too early; failed and consequently not have had the experiences that time gifted me thereon.

Secondly that there is a good way to deliver what then felt like was terrible news.

The manner in which I was told – more so than the outcome of the discussions – has stayed with me throughout the decades.

The Football Manager had the decency of soul and the kindness of heart to set out clearly the reasons and what I had to do to be considered in the future.

Thirdly rejection does not mean the end of a dream.

To be involved in a football club – any football club – for a middle class Eastern suburbs Melbourne boy whose winter diet consisted mainly of the Match of the Day was a dream unimaginable then.

Upon rejection, however, there was something in the depths of my soul and the character of the Carlton Football Club that told me to not give up.

I didn’t and by the end of 1987 was working with the Seniors and did so for the next 15 years.

I was but a very small part of a machine that scaled the heights of Premierships twice and equally experienced the public lows that only a passionate sport seems able to deliver.

**

Last week – nearly 34 years on on from my first ever job rejection – I had the opportunity to say thank you over a coffee to the deliverer of the news for all that moment, and the many moments of football, gave to me.

To Stephen Gough you positively and profoundly impacted the course of my career and my life.

I will be forever lucky that it was you that delivered the news that hot Summer day.

I will be forever grateful that you saw in me then qualities that I couldn’t see.

And I will be forever thankful for the lessons of all time.