Fridays with Mac: Recruiting Tips

“You would have been a good recruiter,” joked Hall of Fame football coach Bill McCartney. The only coach to lead the Buffs to a national title was making reference to my potential recruiting skills after hearing a story of a knucklehead finally taking a hint, recognizing the errors of his ways, taking corrective action and, ultimately, reaping a tremendous harvest.

Two fellas known as “Mac” were making our frequent cruise to Boulder the day before the Buffs prepared to host the University of Washington Huskies at Folsom Field in the 2021 home finale. Tussles with the Huskies always invoke powerful memories of the 1989 season. That year, the Buffs ventured into Seattle’s Husky Stadium for a matchup of nationally-ranked teams. It was the first game CU had played since the death of starting quarterback Sal Aunese. A moment your scribe, at the time the “Buff Guy” for CBS4Denver, will never forget.

A light mist was falling. Like tears from heaven descending on a team in mourning. The week before? An emotional memorial service where the team said goodbye to its quarterback and captain who had lost a battle with cancer. Right before the game commenced, the public address announcer asked the sellout crowd at the beautiful setting along Lake Washington and the Cascade Range to rise in a moment of silence. As soon as the purple-clad faithful rose? The entire Buff contingent - players, coaches and staff - dropped to one knee and pointed skyward in honor of their fallen comrade. With head bowed, I’ll never forget the energy in that stadium. Electric. More than three decades later, it still reverberates thy bones. It also lit a fire under the Buffs who whipped the home team in convincing fashion, 45-28. One for the memory books.

Back to the point of all this, recruiting skills. First, a little background. For a stretch of the rewarding sportscasting run at Channel 4,?given my work on the weekday morning shows, I had time during the day to moonlight as a real estate agent. One evening, while catching?up with a friend at a Cherry Creek sports bar, my buddy spotted another friend. This woman was with a female friend who had recently moved from California. While my buddy and her buddy chatted, we did too. A few days later, I got a call. “I need somebody to help me find a condo.” You bet.

We quickly found a suitable spot and closed the deal. One thing I tried to do for clients was throw a “Housewarming” party. Ya know, invite friends for food, beverages and celebration. Well, considering the rising business star traveled extensively and her realtor was a single dad with two school-aged kids, schedules never jived. The expected celebratory event had not happened.

Fast forward about a year. The sports dude/realtor is healing from divorce wounds and dipping into the Denver dating world. At a charity event, I spot the former client and eagerly bounce her way to say hello. Bad idea. “We are not friends,” she emphatically stated while thumping me in the chest. “You were supposed to throw me a housewarming party and never did!” With that convincing statement, the feisty staffing executive turned and walked away. Wow.

A bit dazed, I tried to enjoy the evening. However, it was gnawing at me. This beautiful, fun and smart woman was right. I had not fulfilled my promise. In this season of life, as McCartney would say, “I was a wounded duck” and not receptive to any flirtation signals. It was a tough time. The charity event ended but there was an after party. I ventured solo. Wouldn’t you know it? Upon walking into the establishment, who’s strolling out with a date? Yep. I tried to take a wide path. To no avail. The former dancer veered and attempted to knocked me into the wall. That’s when the light bulb went off. “I think she likes me.”

A day or two later, an apologetic phone call was placed. We went to dinner. The rest is history. This wonderful human being is now my amazing wife. We’ve got more than 17 years under our belt. What a blessing her love and support have been through the years. Billy Mac from Hackensack is fighting the good fight against Alzheimer’s. It’s challenging. The 81-year-old talks often about his darling but deceased wife of 50 years, Lyndi, “She was gorgeous and I was goofy.” Amen buddy. For me? I was clueless and Kathy was, well, she was Kathy. Direct. Lucky me.

The lesson? When we mess up, fess up. Ask for forgiveness. Take corrective action. While there’s no guarantee, we’ll probably increase odds of success wherever roaming, including recruiting a dynamite bride.