Page 36 of Puck Fest
“Marshall made an offer I couldn’t refuse in a major market, with bigger budget and more responsibility.”
“And your dad just happened to be coaching there.”
I take a drink instead of responding. This is exactly why I hate these events.
“Noah Enver!”
I turn. Brett Harris walks over, and my stomach sinks. Brett and I worked at the same firm in Chicago three years ago. He leftfor hopes of a bigger agency bringing him on and spent the last few years trying to land an NHL gig. Last I heard, he was still pitching.
“Brett. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Yeah, I flew in for the event. Networking, you know how it is.” He looks me up and down. “Heard you landed the Raptors job. Director of Communications, right?”
“That’s right.”
He nods his head. “Impressive. How’d you manage that?”
“Experience. Good timing. Bob Marshall was looking for someone with a crisis management background.”
“Right. Crisis management.” Brett smirks. “And the fact that your dad’s the head coach didn’t hurt.”
Chuck laughs. “That’s what I said.”
“It’s not like that,” I say, keeping my voice level even though I want to lash out.
“Come on, Noah. We’re all professionals here. No judgment.” Brett signals the bartender for another drink. “But you have to admit, having family connections makes things easier. Most of us have to earn these positions the hard way.”
“I did earn it.”
“Sure. But you also had an in that the rest of us don’t have. Those are just facts.”
A few other people look over at us, listening. I recognize some faces from the industry…other PR directors, a couple of sports agents, a journalist from the Chronicle. Fuck, I do not want to become the story tonight.
“So how is it?” someone asks. “Working with your father?”
“Fine. We maintain professional boundaries.”
“Must be tricky though,” Brett says. “Managing team communications when your dad’s calling the plays. What happens when those interests conflict?”
“They don’t conflict,” I say, struggling to keep the grimace from overtaking my expression. “We have different roles and different responsibilities.”
“What about that Masterson situation?” The journalist leans in, interested now. “That was your first big crisis, right? Player assaults a fan at a charity event?”
“Masterson was defending a teammate from hate speech. The situation was handled appropriately.”
“Masterson’s got quite the reputation,” Brett says. “Reckless, takes bad penalties, bit of a hothead. That’s a tough first assignment.”
“He’s a solid player who made an error in judgment. We addressed it,” I say before taking a long pull of my whiskey.
“How’d the league come down on him?” Chuck asks.
“Two-game suspension, fine, and community service.” I shrug. “It’s standard disciplinary action.”
“Could’ve been worse,” the journalist says. “I heard there was debate about making it longer. Five games, maybe more.”
“The league reviewed all available evidence and made their decision.”
“I bet Marshall was relieved you got it handled quickly,” Brett says. “Having the coach’s son managing the crisis probably helped smooth things over internally.”
