I imagine that professional athletes don't need to apply for positions. Like, I didn't see the Philadelphia Eagles posting a job for a center on CareerBuilder after Jason Kelce went down with an injury. But I suppose that is one of the perks - avoiding résumé updates and cover letters - of being in the top .0000001% of the most athletically-gifted people on the planet.
But what if athletes did have to write cover letters?
Dear Mr. Thorn/Mr. Collins/Mr. DiLeo/Summer Intern:
Webster Dictionary defines ‘Back-up Point Guard' as "a player in basketball, usually smaller in stature, who doesn't start the game." And it is with that clear definition of this role in mind that I express my interest in the Sixers Back-up Point Guard Position as advertised on LinkedIn and Craigslist.com (Posting ID 3325672168).
Now, I suppose that this juncture in a cover letter is where most other applicants would rattle off their previous work experience. "I was most recently employed as a Back-up Point Guard for the blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. I was voted captain of my NBDL team, blah, blah, blah."
Royal Ivey is not most applicants. Although, sure, I could serenade you with past accomplishments (Former Buck and Thunder; Defensive Specialist; Classically-trained Harp Player), but I prefer to do my talking on the practice court, and in film rooms, and in the locker room, where my words of wisdom and professionalism would ring through the baby ears of Jrue Holiday like a beautiful lullaby. Sing it with me, Tony:
Hi there, Jrue
It's me, Royal
Lights out at eleven
Go to sleep, go sleep well, don't forget
We play the Hornets at seven
I love to talk to the game. Tony Battie and I would frequently Skype on the road. We discussed the intricacies of hedging, and the growing need for veteran leadership in this era of technology and social media. I'm also a hard worker. And reliable. And I'm not above punching Aaron Gray in the groin for the good of the team.
Simply put, Hiring Managers, I put the ‘stud' in understudy, the ‘mate pro' in consummate professional, the ‘mind‘ in defensive-minded, and the ‘flo' in floor general. I'm not a second coach out there. I'm Coach 1A. I'm an extension of Doug Collins. I'm Doug's eyes and ears. I'm his nose. I'm his index finger. I'm his shins. I'm his tentacle, there to wrap around the shoulders of
your our young backcourt.
I am not attaching my résumé, because you already have it on file. You remember 2008. Four years ago, I responded to an ad in the Delco Times.
NBA Team seeks serviceable b/u PG 4 quality min. off bench. Call (215) 555-5555.
It was fate. I pumped in three points per contest that season. It was a quiet, yet dignified three. A noble three. And, yes, we finished just 41-41 that season, but we led the league in Grit. (In fact, my respective teams have finished in the top-5 in Mucking and Grinding for five out the last six years).
But this letter isn't just about me. It's about you, and your company. After your organization traded me in 2010 as part of a package for Jodie Meeks (a smart, low-risk, calculated move on your part, my fine sirs), we now find ourselves back full circle. You need a back-up point guard, and I obviously don't hold grudges. Seems like a match made in heaven.
I look forward to your call.
PS: I've attached my highlights video for your convenience.