On my "about me" page I wrote the following: "I host the Thursday Night Threesome on The Sports Explosion Network on 1010 AM CBS Sports Radio. I talk about sporty things and I like it, but that show and this blog don't really have anything to do with each other. I guess they're like half-siblings who don't get along but play nice at Christmas and Thanksgiving." I will be deleting that after I post this. And this post is pure TSE.
For those you who haven't heard yet, I no longer manage The Sports Explosion radio network. For those of you who know me, you must know how devastating this is to me. I helped build that network. I put blood, sweat, tears, late nights, early mornings and three years into it. And in turn, the network was with me in sickness and in health, through thick and thin, in and out of relationships and family feuds. It wasn't just a job to me, it was my passion and I poured everything into it. I defined workaholic. As much as I liked being on the radio, I got off knowing that if I did my job that meant 15 other people got to show up and do their shows without worrying about meetings and sales quotas and quarterly profits. Through the advertising I worked on I got to be creative on a daily basis, and few things make me happier.
Last Monday, I received an email from the owner stating he decided to close the business and I was no longer needed. I was also left with the lovely task of calling the station to cancel our programming and contacting each host and current employee to tell them about the situation. trust me, I did not like having the same "I don't know what's going on but we're over" conversation ten times, but I knew Jeremy wouldn't do it. If he ran from me I was sure he'd run from everyone else. And those people deserved much better than I got. When I got to my office Tuesday to collect my personal belongings, he'd taken the files and contracts out of there. The passwords to all the websites and email accounts were changed. I was left with a box of wheat thins and wireless mouse. Some severance package, huh?
I am torn between writing the entire truth (it's my blog, goddammit) and leaving Jeremy with a few shreds of dignity. Suffice it to say I've been contacted by many people he's either lied to or owes money to in the last few days. At first I was surprised but as the truth came out, the last few weeks of working with him all started to make sense. I have no problem saying that the company failed as a result of his poor choices. And Jeremy, if you are by chance reading this, I want you to know that I have never lost respect for someone so quickly, nor have I seen such a pathetic display of cowardice - you couldn't even call your own staff to tell them you ran your business into the ground. That may be one of the most disgusting things about this whole mess: I watched one of my heroes die. And I won't waste another word on him.
I spent the rest of Monday drinking and crying and snorting copious amounts of cocaine. Okay, not exactly, but it's not far off. I spent the rest of the week on a dancing drinking designated driver facilitated binge. I'm not ashamed to say I just wanted to be numb for a few days. I lost control of something I loved dearly, something I breathed life into, and several other people suffered as a result. And there was nothing I could do to fix or stop it. And that guilt, even though it might be unwarranted on my part, that guilt fucking kills.
I've heard chatter from some other hosts that they may take over the network. More power to them, and I'll do whatever I can to help. That's one of the best parts about this whole journey, the fact that I have met some really fucking awesome people along the way. From sales people to guys down the hall from me in my office to advertising clients to people looking to host golf tournaments to people at CBS to listeners who chat with me on twitter to callers who became friends and my fellow hosts who became family. Oh, my beautiful Sports Explosion hosts. Some of you I've known for years and some of you just a few months, but YOU are the reason I worked so hard. You guys, your passion, your shows, that was the product that I believed in so wholeheartedly. That was the reason I woke up every morning (okay, early afternoon) and kept at it. I know that no matter what you do, you'll continue to make me proud. That may sound condescending, but I always tried to do my best by you. You guys became friends and mentors and family to me. And I hope you know that I'm still just a phone call away should you need anything.
Admittedly, there are some things I won't miss about the job. You know, the icky parts like driving an hour each way to work or taking 1:00 AM crisis calls or sacrificing nights and weekends or watching grown men behave like children. I won't miss having a lot of responsibility and no control. I won't miss taking the blame for someone else's mistakes.
And thank you to those who have tried to see what I'm going through. Thank you to those with kind words and high hopes for my future. I am down about what happened, but that's not to say I'm not excited about what's on my horizon. The beat goes on...
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