All media junkies have either Poynter or Romenesko bookmarked in their Internet browsers. Those who barely pay attention to the media, let alone stories about the media, the Poynter Institute's website basically acts as a cheerleader for the state of journalism, offering helpful advice yet trying to stay positive in the face of dwindling circulation numbers. Kind of like the Timberwolves dance team.
So don't fret, newspaper editors! Just be more like Brett Favre, and everything will be okay!
1. Favre loved the job. He brought joy to work every day and let it show. He dared to grin on the field and whoop when whooping was called for and get knocked down and pop back up laughing. There was almost always a smile behind the bars of his helmet, even when he was losing.
Editors: When was the last time you worked with unabashed joy, or made the job fun? In today's troubled newsrooms, imagine the transformative power that would have.
Oh, this is delightful. Just about every CEO in the world could apply these Brett Favre lessons to their own industry and save their business. At least until scientists devise a way to extract a small amount of Fun from Brett Favre and convert it into a topical balm that will cure all illness, without any side effects or foul odors.
Let's go down some of the other lessons, and see who they can help:
4. He didn't make excuses or lay blame - even when he had due cause.
Veterinarians: When you accidentally injected little Scruffles not with a rabies shot, but instead your heroin needle from last night, did you blame it on the fact that the label fell off, or did you dust yourself off and bring in the next pet?
6. He knew how to call an audible. When the script failed, he improvised.
Exotic dancers: When the song you wanted the DJ to play, "I'm A Slave For You," never came through the loudspeaker and was replaced by C.W. McCall's "Convoy," did you make the best of it and let the patrons beckon you over with their make-believe CB radios?
8. He wasn't afraid to be real - on the field or off. When he got addicted to pain pills, he fessed up. When his wife was diagnosed with breast cancer, he admitted his fear. When his father died, he cried. When he finally decided to retire, he didn't spout some blather about more time with the family, or pursuing other interests. He just said it like it was: "I'm tired."
Highway Patrolmen: Don't you think you guys should ease up and reveal what kind of person you ... no, there's nothing in the trunk, officer. It always makes that clank sound.