WHY I TEACH-Part 16: Unsportsmanlike Conduct

“OK,” I said to the eight boys standing before me, “Our first FBLA meeting is called to order. We’ve got a few things to discuss.”

“When are we going to the stadium?” Terrance asked.

“We are working at the game this Saturday.” I pulled out the stadium checklist. “You are going to need black pants, a black shirt, and non-skid black shoes.”

The boys started shifting nervously. “What if we don’t have any of that?” Terrance asked.

“You’ll need to go buy it then.”

More shifting.

“Is there a problem?”

“What if we don’t have any money to buy that stuff?” Terrance asked.

“Parents?”

Blank stares then downtrodden eyes.

“OK, who has a car?”

Two of the boys raised their hands.

“If you two can drive the rest of the guys, we can take our meeting to Wal-Mart and get the stuff you need. I can pay for it and then reimburse myself when we get paid on Saturday.”

The boys nodded. “Get going, I’ll meet you there, I just gotta make a call first.” I phoned Stuart to let him know my plan and to confirm we had enough money in the bank.

Thankfully, having five kids prepared me for clothes shopping with eight boys. After what seemed like a million times of saying, “You have to try it on” all of the boys had what they needed and my bank account was pretty empty.

On Saturday, we showed up at the football stadium three hours early. After a brief training, pictures for name badges, and a food safety video, we were ready to run our own concession stand.

A woman named Jen, from the concession staff, worked with us to get everything ready. We put hotdogs on the rotating grill, hung pretzels, popped popcorn, and stocked all the cups and paper products. Then we waited until the flood began. A flood that lasted the next two and a half hours with a major swamping at half-time. As I was the only one over 21, I was the official beer getter—hundreds of beers.

The guys worked so well together. Laughing and joking with customers, upselling, and truly enjoying themselves.

When 4th quarter began, the customers dwindled and the guys went to watch the game. They won. The boys cheered and danced and happily helped clean up the concession stand. When we counted the tills and leftover inventory, we found that we’d cleared a little over $4,000.

“Not bad,” Jen said. “It was a pretty slow night, we weren’t even full.”

My jaw hit the floor. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Usually stands do over $7,000 a night when we’re full.”

I looked at her and then at the boys. “$7,000 a night, we can do that.”

“Hell yes, we can,” Terrance replied as they fist bumped each other.

In the conference center office, I went over to the events desk to register us for more games. When I typed in my school code, no available spots appeared.

“Excuse me,” I said to the man behind the desk, “there doesn’t seem to be any more games available.”

“What’s your school code?” he asked.

“1159 FBLA.”

He typed the code in. “You’ve met your limit for the rest of the games.”

“We only worked one game. How is that possible?”

“Each school is allowed only one stand per game and your school is already signed up for the rest of the season.”

“Again, how is that possible, I only signed up for one game to see if we liked it.”

He turned his screen toward me and I saw “1159 Football” listed in every spot for the rest of the season.

“Mr. Myers,” I said with utter disgust. “My principal took all of the events. Un-freaking-believable. Are there any other events we can work?”

“Yes, if you get a good review, you can sign up for our VIP events, like concerts and such.” He paused and typed something into his computer. “Jen should have your review posted within 24 hours. You can call me tomorrow and check.”

He handed me his business card. “Don’t forget to go to accounting and get your check for tonight,” he said.

I nodded dejectedly.

“If you want, I can reserve your spots for the VIP events tomorrow after I get the review.”

My head popped up and my eyes met his. “Thank you so much,” I looked at the business card, “Doug, thank you so much, Doug! You are the man!”

Doug grinned beneath his grey bushy mustache as his cheeks turned a pale pink. “And to be honest,” he said in almost a whisper, “you’ll make more at the VIP events because they run all year long.”