Trask - You negotiate like a girl: reflections on a career in the National Football League

Shes not a girl, shes a Raider.

Gene Upshaw

Contents

Authors Note

There are rough words in this book. I did not use such language gratuitously or to be provocative. I used it in some instances because I believe it necessary to adequately recount a memory or share an anecdote from my years in the league. In other instances I used it to convey a sense of the environment in which I loved to work. If this language offends you or stops you from sharing this book with a young person you dont believe should read such language, I am sorry. I will note, however, that if you or such young person wish to have a career in football, such language is not aberrant, it is the norm.

1. Al

Negotiating for Al Davis was a challenge. He instructed, he directed, he managed, he micromanaged, he bellowed, he denounced, he demanded, and he denigrated. On occasion, he offered praise and expressed sincere appreciation. Because those moments were far less frequent than the excoriating moments, they were meaningful and precious. I knew that when Al offered praise or expressed appreciation, he meant it.

One particularly crucial and complicated transaction that consumed us for a considerable period of time offers a good example of what it was like to negotiate for him. It was the most difficult transaction with which Id ever been involved, by a large margin. (It may surprise some, but this transaction was not in any way related to franchise relocation.)

Al didnt like how or the pace at which negotiations were proceeding, and on one of the many occasions on which he shared his displeasure he declared: You negotiate like a girl.

Al was tense and angry and irascible throughout this process and he made many other interesting remarks. At one point during a very heated argument, he said to me in a harsh, derisive tone, Youre like that emperor of Japan.

Now that pissed me off. That was substantive. I knew exactly what he meant. His insinuation of unconditional surrender was absolutely clear. I went to my office and made a big sign, which I taped to the door: EMPEROR HIROHITOS OFFICE. I left it there for a month or so. People were quizzical; a few asked me what that meant, and I told them to Google it. Ultimately, I took it down.

And the you negotiate like a girl remark? It didnt bother me.

People I respect have told me that I should have been offended by that remark and that I should have stated my objection to it.

I wasnt offended and I didnt state an objection. I knew that Al didnt care that I was a girl and I thought it a better use of my time and energy to negotiate and structure the most impressive deal possible.

So I rolled my eyes, laughed at him, and told him that he could handle the negotiation himself. Al responded as he almost always did: Aw fuck. He didnt want to handle the negotiation; he wanted the girl to handle the negotiation.

* * *

I was honored that for much of the three decades that I worked for Al, one of the most enigmatic and extraordinary men in sports history, I was motherfucked every bit as often and every bit as forcefully as any defensive coordinator who worked for him. Certainly, those who knew Al knew that he motherfucked his defensive coordinators a lot. I was motherfucked every bit as much.

Swearing doesnt bother me it never has. I swear a lot. Many have likened my choice of language to that of a truck driver or sailor, while others have noted that such comparisons are insulting to truck drivers and sailors. Perhaps I shouldnt swear as much as I do. A great Raiders tackle, Lincoln Kennedy, thought as much. Hearing me speak, hed shake his head and laugh. He once told my mother and father after a game that he would like to work with them in an effort to clean up my language. They laughed and my father told him that theyd given up long ago.

There was one occasion when Al discussed swearing in front of a woman or at one that is particularly special to me.

We were hosting a meeting at our offices. Shortly after our guests arrived, and as a few of us were conversing with them, Al joined us. When he noticed that one of the visitors was a woman, he explained to her and to the entire group, as all of the guests were listening to him that he tried very hard not to swear in front of women. He apologized in advance if that were to happen.

Well, I began making overly dramatic, incredulous faces and looked from one coworker to another. They smiled back knowingly. Al then proceeded to explain to our female guest and her colleagues that while he might sometimes slip and swear in front of a woman, he would never and did never swear at a woman.

At that point I stopped dramatizing my incredulity; my escalating facial expressions and body language were organic. I gestured with my hands and the pen I was holding flew out of my grip and landed on the conference table with a thud. Everyone in the room turned to look at me, including Al.

Well, Amy I swear at Amy, Al said, but I dont consider her a woman. I dont consider her a woman . Think about that. He didnt consider me a woman. Isnt that the goal? Isnt that the hope? To be treated without regard to gender? The moment was even more special than it would otherwise have been because in vintage Al form, he conveyed one of the most spectacular thoughts he could have ever conveyed, in a manner only he could: Oh Amy I swear at Amy but I dont consider her a woman.

* * *

I accepted my full-time job with the Raiders in 1987 without knowing what Id be paid. I was offered a job I didnt ask about salary or benefits or anything I just said yes. I walked down the hallway to the office of the managing partner at the law firm at which I was working and I gave notice.

I understand that not everyone has the luxury of accepting a job without taking into account financial considerations and that I thus did something that not everyone is able to do. I am not unaware of or insensitive to that reality. I was newly married and my husband and I were living in a roughly 400-square-foot apartment. Although we had financial constraints and obligations, I didnt think about them. I didnt care what I would earn and, as it turned out, I took a very significant pay cut to join the organization.

Some might say that what I did was foolhardy. I dont think it was. I wanted to pursue a dream and it never occurred to me not to accept the job.

Over the course of my career, Al periodically stated that not only should employees including me work for free, but that we should pay the organization for the privilege of so doing. It was my distinct impression that he wasnt teasing. No matter whether he was teasing or not, he believed it was a privilege to work for the Raiders, and so did I.

Just as I didnt ask about compensation or benefits before accepting my job, I didnt ask about career path, opportunities for advancement, employee reviews, or anything else that I was asked hundreds of times by individuals I interviewed later in my career.

I was offered the opportunity of a lifetime and I said yes.

At no time from the moment I accepted my job until the day I resigned decades later did I think about about my status or advancing within the organization. I didnt strategize, plan, or worry about my trajectory or next steps. I did my job. I did advance, but I never spent a moment contemplating, considering, or planning how to do so or whether I would.

It bothers me when people take a position already looking to advance. It struck me many times throughout my career that applicants and new employees were focused on advancement from even before they located the restrooms. Rather than focus on advancement, one should focus on doing the best job possible, on working as hard as possible, on working harder than anyone else, and on working harder than one ever thought one could. I was told many times over the course of my career that it was a failing of mine not to strategize for my advancement. I disagree.