What, within reason, is the worst sound of all to the typical human ear? One that stands out from the K-12 years is the ticking clock on CBS’s 60 Minutes. Particularly in the days of three networks and PBS, the 60 Minutes “tick tick tick” was a cruel indication that the weekend was over and Monday was on the way.
Beyond a still popular (in the age of segmented audiences) television’s show’s signature sound, arguably the cruelest one of all is that of the alarm clock. No matter the attempted softness of the sound, it’s still a mean jolt that few enjoy.
More on alarm clocks, it’s not unreasonable to say that smartphones replaced them not just as technological gadgetry, but also as bedside accessories at night. At the same time, it’s similarly not unreasonable to suggest that with the replacement of the alarm clock, more is at work.
Think the recently deceased John Robinson, Hall of Fame college football (USC most notably) and prominent NFL (Los Angeles Rams) coach. In a New York Times obituary, Richard Sandomir quoted a 1983 interview that Robinson conducted with the Washington Post, and that referenced alarm clocks of all things. For background on the interview, Robinson had resigned near the end of the 1982 season (four Rose Bowl wins, one national championship, though some would say Robinson won two…) as USC’s head coach.
What’s probably been forgotten by most is that Robinson didn’t resign to take the head coaching job with the Los Angeles Rams. Instead, he stepped down to take another job within USC as “senior vice president of university relations,” which was presumably Robinson meeting with major USC donors, football team boosters, and likely both. Which is where the Post interview comes in.
Asked why he’d left for the Rams after such a short stint in his new, non-coaching role, Robinson explained that “When I was coaching, I bounced up as soon as the alarm clock went off in the morning. With the new job, I’d lay there for a half hour after it went off. I knew something wasn’t right.” Think of the bigger meaning of Robinson’s explanation.
It was easy for him to get out of bed to do the kind of work (coaching) that he really loved, but clearly not as easy to do alumni relations. What’s interesting there is that in many ways, both jobs were sales jobs. Robinson was a master recruiter (look up his 1978 USC team that included four NFL Hall of Famers, and 14 first-round NFL draft picks), which means he was a master salesman, but not for just anything. Or maybe he was a great salesman for USC the school, but the latter didn’t give him nearly the joy that selling his skills as head coach did. Which is really something, and as something, it’s indicative of much better days ahead for all.
It brings to mind Whole Foods founder John Mackey. In his excellent memoir The Whole Story, Mackey observed about himself that “One of my superpowers is my evangelical enthusiasm.” There’s no arguing with Mackey’s self-description, but there is an argument that if asked to sell Whataburger’s breakfast tacos, French fries with chicken gravy, and Blue Bell Ice Cream, Mackey would be quite a bit less persuasive.
What made Robinson such a passionate and energized coach and recruiter was a deep belief in himself that not every job would have revealed. Robinson got to specialize, which is everything. And it’s everything because if AI and machines live up to their immense potential, there will be many more Robinsons, and much less need for alarm clocks of any kind, including those on phones.
