Want to be an MVP at work?

Edward P. Salek, CAE, Executive Director | TLT Headquarters Report July 2020

Take some advice from an American baseball legend.
 


All of us striving to be MVPs in the real world can learn from themes articulated by Willie Mays.


Baby Boomers like me grew up in the 1960s when baseball was America’s preeminent sport. We can relate to a boyhood memory shared by former U.S. President George W. Bush in a new book that’s on my summer reading list.

“I didn’t dream about being president,” he said. “I dreamed about being Willie Mays until I realized I couldn’t hit. The presidency thing was the farthest from my mind. Being a ballplayer wasn’t.” 

The Bush anecdote is part of the book 24: Life Stories and Lessons from the Say Hey Kid. It’s a collaboration by John Shea, a San Francisco baseball writer, and Mays, the baseball legend who turned 89 earlier this year. Mays’ nickname, the Say Hey Kid, was created by a sportswriter
because the rookie outfielder didn’t know many people’s names and would just say “hey” as a greeting.

That shy rookie, who wore uniform number 24, went on to notable career accomplishments. He played 22 seasons, mostly with the San Francisco Giants, slammed 660 home runs, won two Most Valuable Player (MVP) awards and was elected to the National Baseball Hall of Fame in 1979.

He also competed in Major League Baseball at a time when the sport was just beginning to integrate. Mays joined a major league team just four years after Jackie Robinson in 1947, who became the first black man to break baseball’s color barrier.

While baseball highlights and moments of social change in America serve as a backstory, the heart of this co-authored book is Mays’ observations and Shea’s skillful narrative. It’s a collection of lessons to be learned about life, not a baseball instructional manual or a vacuous celebrity memoir.

Like former President Bush, most of us are not going to be superstar athletes. But all of us striving to be MVPs in the real world can learn from four themes articulated by the Say Hey Kid.

Early career mentors. When Mays was still in high school, he began playing for the Birmingham (Alabama) Black Barons, the local Negro League team in his home state. Manager Piper Davis made sure Mays learned the right lessons about baseball and about life.

“Piper Davis was like a father to me. He was a big, tall guy and we sat and talked all the time about baseball. He never hollered at me. If I did something wrong, he just explained things to me,” said Mays.

Professional development. Compared to modern athletes, Mays was not your typical baseball slugger. He stood 5 ft., 10 in. (177.8 cm) and weighed 180 pounds (81.6 kg). He was not viewed as having the potential to bash more than 600 home runs. But he surprised people by building on his natural ability to become what’s known as a five-tool player—someone who can run, hit for power and average, field and throw.

Mays’ advice: “The more you can do, the more you can help your team and the longer you can play.”

Adapt, don’t complain. Mays spent his career in two stadiums, the Polo Grounds in New York City and Candlestick Park in San Francisco, Calif., that were hated by many players. Weird field dimensions and bad weather conditions made the ballparks difficult places to hit and field. Mays adjusted his style and found ways to succeed rather than complain.

“Life takes you many places. Make the best of any situation. Complaining doesn’t help. You’ve gotta adjust and make it work for you,” according to Mays.

Have fun. Mays played baseball with flair and a sense of joy. Because he wasn’t uptight, the players around him relaxed and elevated their game. In the context of an office or a lab, it’s the 1960s version of permission to fail. No one works well if they’re terrified of making a mistake.

In Mays’ words, “Have fun with everything you do. Be comfortable. No need to act like you’re somebody else. Be yourself. That’s good enough.”

Life after retirement from baseball has had ups and downs for Mays. There was a dispute with the baseball commissioner over his work as a gambling casino representative and other personal issues. Imperfections need not detract from a style and the philosophy that can make us all better professionals on whatever field we choose to compete.
 
 You can reach Certified Association Executive Ed Salek at esalek@stle.org.