Media + Relations

By, George, I think I've go it!

Maybe I have figured out what media relations means and how it works. Here's my conclusion: media relations. Profound, right?!

It seems that people have a different view of what media relations is, and by people I include myself. I think for my years of studying public relations, I found too broad of an area and didn't realize that media relations is a very small, though very important, aspect OF public relations.

It's really not all writing, story telling and "spinning" as most people like to tack on to the list of what PR people do. It really is relating to the media.

I spent my time in the press box observing. Luckily, it's one of the things I like to do best. There was an array of things going on in there. To my right we had the Astros media. Though we were below 10 broadcasting booths, we still had some reporters and radio people that were part of the press box. There were also photographers down there.

In the middle where I was sat the official scorekeeper, closed caption typer (that's a seriously politically correct job title, I know), public address announcer, pitch-charter, media relations and GameTracker.

To the left were the visiting media, Associated press writers and a handful of Astros writers who spilled over.

So what were the media relations people doing? Relating!

We really are more of facilitators than public relations people in the area people think. We do not spin, or story tell, we give facts in their most basic form: statistics. We can look up everything and anything, and we are at the media's beckon call. We can produce files, media guides, box scores, player injury updates, counts, home runs, records all in a snap when it is requested.

That's really it. We're relating. We make sure the media has what they need, when they want it and as quickly as possible.

I don't think I can break it down any more basic than that. Unless you want to know the statistics on my typing speed in explaining this. Which is 71 WPM ;)

It's like I clicked my heels

You’re intrigued, right? You want to know exactly where I live in Houston, what it looks like, maybe even what my neighbors look like, right? Well lucky you!

I’ve always been a sort of Connector (yes, Dr. Carter, a Tipping Point reference). I’m pretty good at reading people, making connections with them and keeping those lines open. I also believe that people meet for a reason.

I know I briefly mentioned who I was living with, and a little about the how I found it, but let’s go into detail.

How I found where I’m living:

It pays not to be shy. Around the end of April, beginning of May, my parents were in Milledgeville watching some games, and helping me pack up my stuff to move to Houston. At this time, I hadn’t found out that I was being rolled over to the fall internship, so I was desperate to find somewhere.

I had just left lunch at the Pickle Barrel (man I miss that place), and for some odd reason decided to get my car washed at a GMC fundraiser going on down 441. If you know me, you know that “Teky” was only maybe washed six times in the six years I owned him, so stopping at this car wash was out-of-the-norm for me. I’ve always felt awkward sitting in a car while people are working on it, I feel like I’m in a fish bowl and everyone is staring in at me, so I decided to sit on the curb with the parents supervising the car wash instead.

I’m feeling pretty awkward, sitting by myself and watching these teens ferociously scrub my caked-on dirt, of course wearing a GCSU softball t-shirt. The lady behind me asks if I play for Georgia College, and we engage in friendly conversation. She asks the normal questions of a college conversation: hometown, year, major and plans for graduating. I eventually explained that I was waiting to hear back from the Houston Astros about an internship, and that I would hopefully be moving there this summer.

“Oh! I have two sisters that live in Houston,” she said so sweetly with her Georgia accent. “Have you found some place to live?”

Well, no. I sure haven’t.

That’s pretty much the story. We exchanged numbers, information and I even had my dad drop into get his truck washed. When I got the call from Houston saying no for the summer, but probably for the fall, I called her and let her know so that she could warn her sister.

And here I am. Living in her sis

I’m living just outside of Houston, about 20 miles. As you see from the pictures of traffic, it takes a lot longer to get to the stadium than the distance I am from it.

Like I mentioned, I’m living with the sister’s husband, while the wife and three kids live in Los Angeles for the summer. Their son is on a Disney show, and the other two kids are trying to break into the acting-scene daily. I didn’t meet him until I pulled into his driveway with my stuffed car, ready to start my next adventure. I help him around the house while the family is gone.

It’s out in the middle of nowhere (after driving down a highway I turn at a hazard light, then onto a country road) on about a 15 acre spread. It’s a nice house, and really has everything I could have wanted. All I was really looking for was a bed, and I got much more!

To think, I was just sitting on a curb in Milledgeville, Georgia getting my car washed, and all this happened. Everything happens for a reason. Who you meet, who you engage and who you remember may lead to something you never saw coming. I’m going to steal a status from Facebook that I just read… it fits way too perfectly into my conclusion.

I believe we write our own stories and each time we think we know the end, we don't. Perhaps luck exists somewhere between the world of planning, of chance and in the peace that comes from knowing that you just can't know it all. Life's funny that way… once you let go of the wheel, you might end up right where you belong.

We have a peacock!

I was washing dishes one day and saw these guys eating breakfast (note the two horse bending down in the bottom right corner).

Then I walked into the living room and bro was checkin' out my morning routine!

Inspired.

I'm glad I'm someone who takes things to heart. I always here people say, "just let it roll off your back," or, "it's really not that big of a deal," when people seems to let their emotions get in the way. I've never been able to do that, just get over something.

There are things, yes, like the fact that this M&M bag only has a few morsels in it, but I couldn't get over the craving for them.

It took me most of my life, really until college to figure out why the little things bother me so much. Why my biggest pet peeve is someone cancelling plans that we made. It's because I put my heart into every thing that I do.


I take pride in what I have accomplished, what my friends and family have accomplished, and most importantly, what I can do for others. I may not be the first one to volunteer at a local shelter, but believe that when I'm there I'm making the best of my experience.


Inspiration comes from places you don't always expect it, but they're usually pretty timely. I had two encounters with inspiration yesterday, and I'm excited that it came when it did.


We had the first of a series of "Roundtable Discussions" yesterday as an intern class. This is the first time that the HR department has held something like this, though it's been in the works for years. The topic of discussion was: "Professionalism and how to excel in the workplace." Simple enough, right?


We all filed into the "Draft Room" at two o'clock yesterday, in our clean, pressed shirts and notepads. I giggled a little as people took rapid notes like there was going to be a test, while I focused on retaining the information and treating it like a real-world discussion, not a lecture.


We covered a lot of good topics, asked questions we may have normally felt weird to ask and even had moments of, "oh thank the Lord someone else made that mistake too." I have to say I think it was great.


The inspiration for me didn't come until the very end, however. My saint, as I have previously referred to her, Chanda, said something that made me look at myself. She was trying to decide what generation our class comes from, and I can't remember what she thought it was, but what she said about it is what got me.


"I think you guys are from the generation that is described as thinking they 'deserve' something," she said-ish. That's rrreeeaaalllyyy roughly paraphrased but it's what got me.

To most 20-something's that would be offensive. But when she asked us to think about that, and evaluate ourselves I thought, "you're right." I can't say that I've thought that everything should be laid out on a platter for me, but I haven't really realized how my work up to this point hasn't really mattered to anyone. Yes, it's gotten me from point-a, to b, to c, but it hasn't held my position in this world like I'm wanting. It's up to me to get there.


Now, you may read this and think, "that's not what she is getting at at all," but it's how I took it. It's a realization I needed to make for myself, to be happy doing the work I am, until I get to where the work is what I want.


"If I don't show them... how will they know?"


A note I scribbled to myself when I got back to my desk. I may choose to make it more prominent in my cube, but for now it works for me. It was a very honest "wow" moment, and there it is.
Yes, I may be talented, and the work I do is the best I can do, and it's very capable of meeting a lot of high standards, but my opportunity will come... in time. "Some day," as I wrote on Twitter, is exactly how I feel about when things will come together for me, but that's not an IF either, it's a WHEN.


Why then, if I know it's coming in time, would I not make the best of this situation, put my heart into it for every second. I do not think by any stretch that I have been slacking here, but I've taken a different aspect on what it is I'm doing here.

In conjunction with this meeting, the thought from Chanda and what I got out of it, I read a blog by Jen Croneberger, the Mental Training Coach for the Force, and I was floored at a quote she included.


"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives viantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid sould who know neither victory nor defeat."--Theodore Roosevelt

Amazing.


So, I'm going to keep working. I'm going to let go the thought that I have worked and should be somewhere, and keep working. I don't think that I have failed, but I'm not afraid of it. Maybe it's because I'm still confident in what I can do, and someone soon will see that.


I'm never going to take my heart out of it. I will not let things roll off my back. I refuse to settle.

The quote posted in my cube.

Thanks, Jen. Thanks, Chanda.

You can hear the crickets... literally.

Minute Maid Park has had some special visitors for this home stand, crickets!

It’s crazy how many crickets are in the park! They are attacking the press box, and in turn freaking out Steve, a Media Relations Coordinator. It’s really kind of funny.

The part that amazes me is how loud they are! There’s the “hearing crickets” idea that something is so quiet you can hear them, but in MMP there are so many you can hear them during the game! And it’s not because the crowd is quiet or not into the game, there are just that many of the little buggers. Crazy.

What are some of the other sites? Oh, Texas has plenty of them. I’ll give you a little visual tour, switch up the pace of this blog a little.

One of my favorite is the random Mount Rushmore-esque sight on 288 south towards where I live. You’re just cruzin’ down the highway and there they are: George Bush, John Hancock, Abraham Lincoln, Franklin D. Roosevelt and J.F. Kennedy. Just, ya know, hangin’ out in a corn field.

A few miles up the road there is a field of metal sculptures in different shapes. I’m not going to ruin the surprise on what these shapes are, I’m just going to get pictures of them. Suspense!

Last night gave me chills. It was September 11 and we honored the people who fight for our freedom; a task most of us would not take on ourselves. I wish I could figure out where the zoom is on my camera, but here are some of the shots.

I’m proud of my friends that I know are over there fighting, and I thank all of our troops for the courage they have. Thank you.

This morning was a sight and a frustration all in one. There was a Fiestas Patrias parade running “downtown” which really meant circling Minute Maid Park.

The streets were blocked off where I park. (I’ll let you gather how I felt about that.)

There were participants, spectators, music, costumes and tons of horses with cowboys and girls decked out in their finest. The streets were filled and it seemed like everyone was having a genuinely fun time.

Last stop on our visual tour, snap-shots of what I see, is one of the security guards that rides around MMP. (Hehe)

Hope you enjoyed this as much as I did!

Me and my boy FDR!

Game time.

The 11 day home stand has begun, and today marks the half-way point, if there were a half of 11.

Everything is shaken up, even the Phillies after the Astros swept them. Haha, kudos to the defending World Champions!

What has changed with my routine? First point, the hours. Second, the speed of which tasks have to be completed.

Remember that cozy 8:30-5:30 day I talked about? Yeah, that’s gone! As an athlete, you never really know how much work goes into the game you play outside of the lines. For the past couple days I have come to the stadium anywhere from 9:30 a.m. (7:05 p.m. games) to 6:30 a.m. (1:05 p.m. games) and not left until around two hours after the final pitch, which is three hours after the start time. I’ll let you do the math, it’s not my strong point.

Needless to say, I’m exhausted.

It was fun going through my day and chronicling my every move, so we’re going to do it again, game day style. Since I came in two days in a row at 6:30 a.m., we’re going to document how those crazy days were, ok?

Sunday, September 6:

5:20 a.m.: G.R.I.T.S. by Brantley Gilbert wakes up me and Kayleigh (who came to visit!)

5:50 a.m.: Leaving our humble abode. Side note: with roosters crowing. Yes, real roosters, and three of them!

6:20 a.m.: Pull into Minute Maid Park. Side note: Absolutely no traffic, and it was probably more like 6:17, SO much faster.

6:30 a.m.: Say goodbye to sleepy Kayleigh as she takes my car home to sleep (LUCKY), and hello to MJ.

6:35 a.m.: After settling in, we have to start our crazy work. It takes her and I the longest to get done what we have, hence why absolutely no one else is in the office. It’s the same morning routine: clips, stats and minor league reports. Usually she takes the minors because she can read a stat sheet like no ones business, while I take the slower processes.

8:00 a.m.: Head to the press box to set up for the day. The pictures below show what it looks like when we first get in there. We:

Roll up those faux windows (yes, we crank them by hand. I’ll try to get a picture of the cranks. I’m going to have some SWEET arms doing this every day).

Run COPIES. Tons and tons of copies. Minors, stats, rosters, and game notes.

Deliver those copies. We set up the broadcasting (radio and t.v.), general manager, VP booths. There are about 10 booths total, and their requirements are pretty specific. High maintenance.

We also take the copies to the clubhouse. For the new baseball readers, that is where the locker rooms are, but they’re really more like houses with all the accommodations down there. This is my favorite part, excited like a little kid I might see someone. I try to play it cool, but I’m not.

The other copies we make get put into bins. These are for the media that are in the press box. There is any source of information their writing hearts could wish for in there. Everything and anything.

9:00 a.m.: Media credentials window. Anyone that is permitted into Minute Maid Park for media purposes, must have a pass saying they are allowed into certain areas. There is a list that is printed before every game saying these people have been cleared. Three tags are given out: green= field/pressbox only before games, black= field/pressbox, red= clubhouse/field/pressbox. I sit here until 12:00, when MJ comes to relieve me. She stays until an hour after game time. We also hand out tickets to scouts, and sometimes for the national anthem singers or other daily entertainment.

12:30 p.m.: After checking in with the pressbox, I head up to media dining. This is Heaven and Hell in one run. Buffets are my worst enemy, especially good buffets. On top of that, this room is full of TVs and sports junkies. I can sit, eat and talk sports all day. I hate that I’m allowed in there.

12:05 p.m.: Change all the TVs in the press box to channel 23 (FSH), and start the recording of the game. This is incase any call is controversial and a review is needed. I got a high-five for knowing what “SP/LP” meant on a VCR. Guess my age-bracket is getting past this knowledge with technology advancements.

The TVs throughout the pressbox are actually really funny/helpful. Their time is about 10 seconds behind the actual game, so it’s like an instant replay on every second of the game. Super helpful.

1:05 p.m.: Back in the press box, and watching the game. It’s crazy in the pressbox. There are people everywhere buzzing like bees. It’s a cool experience, and definitely where I want to end up. I haven’t decided what seat I want to be in (or “hat I want to wear” to be more colloquial), but it’s somewhere in that box.

During the game I am an errand runner. Whatever the media needs, I can help them get to it. We are media RELATIONS people. That second word is very important for my job.

7th inning stretch: Giveaways are distributed. For every home game that has a giveaway to the fans, we give them to the media. MJ and I start on the broadcast level, going box by box giving away that day’s prize, then we cover the pressbox. It’s funny to hand an El Caballo Webkins to a grown man, but they are just as excited to get them!

Post game: Hope that the Astros won. Which, as of me typing this (Tuesday, Sept. 8) they swept the Phillies so I haven’t seen a loss. Today, the Astros are about to play the first game against the Braves, so maybe by tomorrow this post will be dated.

Start breaking down the pressbox. It’s back to the crank as we let down the faux windows, turn off the TVs, stop and rewind the video.

Then, it’s stats time again, ladies and gents. We wait for the official scorekeeper to go through his box scores, and make sure that everything is right, then we fax it to the official scorekeeper company, Elias.

After they have received the box, we send the post-game notes and the statistics to other media outlets. Ya know, I would say who but I just know that it’s numbers 1,2,18,19,20,22,35,42 on the fax machine. Weird.

5:40/10:30ish: Head home, getting ready to do it all over the next day.

It’s a long day, but it’s an office that doubles as a baseball stadium. That works for me ;)

A day in the life...

"How's it goin' over there?"

"Do you like Houston!"

"What is it that you do there?"

All questions I'm being asked every day it seems. I figure this would be a good next blog, maybe these will run fairly sequentially. I'll let you know what I do on a dat-to-day basis, as I know it now; all of this will change REALLY soon with our 11-game home stretch that starts Friday.

Yikes.

6:30 a.m.: Alarm clock goes off. Honestly, I didn't REALLY know there was a "6:30" in the morning too. News to me. This is my wake up call, currently my phone alarm has "Turnin' me on" by Keri Hilson that sings to me.

7:05 a.m.: Head into the kitchen to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. My biggest find/savior in college was a coffee maker that is programmable. I make instant oatmeal (one splenda, finger-full of dried cranberries), fill up my mug and stumble out the door. No, I don't stumble because of my night before activities, I stumble because its SEVEN O'CLOCK!!!

7:15 a.m.: Click "Minute Maid Park" into my navigation. Actually, I have it down now. Roll out of the driveway.

7:32 a.m.: Traffic starts on Texas 288. This is RIDICULOUS. Notice that I get up TWO hours before I have to be at work. If you know me, you know that getting up at 6:35 to be somewhere at 6:50 is completely possible.

*note: you can faintly see the skyline in this picture. Why does it take so long?!

7:38 a.m.: Same dinky Police motorcycle rolls down the shoulder cruisin' along like it's a lane. Ugh.

*actual speed limit it seems

7:55 a.m.: Still in traffic. Thinking about how I'm going to make the, "Congratulations, you're the dumb dumb that made everyone mad today," stickers for the car wrecks. Trying to tell myself I'll be there on time.

8:15 a.m.: Pull into Minute Maid Park. Exactly an hour later when I live 22 miles from the stadium down a 65 mph highway.

8:20 a.m.: First one in the office, followed closely by my neighbor, Kara, the Foundation intern. Usually head to grab coffee if it's made (I don't know those dinosaur coffee makers).

8:25 a.m.: Turn on my computer, start going through my e-mails.

9:00 a.m.: My... hm... I say I'm her "little buddy." MJ, Media Relations Coordinator. She is my supervisor of sorts, I do what she does so that I learn how to do it.

9:15 a.m.: After catching up on a few things, talking with Brittany, Community Relations intern, about how we can't find a Starbucks, we start our work.

Work:

• Daily Clippings- this is where we search 25 different newspapers/Web sites for ANYTHING written about the Astros. We put it onto a Web site that makes a nice little print out for us; however, we take that print out, copy it into a Word document, format it how we want it, cut out any articles we find in the newspapers, then make CRAZY copies. These are delievered to various people around the office.


• Stat packs: Ok, so Luther put it perfectly when he wrote me on Facebook one day. I have ALWAYS considered myself a "stat rat" which basically means I like to watch numbers manipulate in baseball/softball. I realized I'm not even in the animal family in comparison to the MLB, not even another rodent. Here's our conversation:
  Luther Woodall
  you mean, you don't know who had the highest ERA after the 3rd inning of night games that fell on wednesday when the team was wearing black hats but the outfield wore blue socks, during batting practice? C'MON CHELS.. GET IT TOGETHER
  Chelsea Wilson
  bahahahaha exactly luther!! im lookin' up though now, and it'll be documented in a min!! i'll even let you know if your coached sneezed during the play call and how far the last booger flew!
  Luther Woodall
  YESS!! YES!! NOW YOU GET IT.. umm wait.. was that the batting coach or the third base coach?


• That's exactly how it is! (Ignore that bullet over there <----I can't seem to format this how I want without the bullet.) We go through this pack and underline EVERY time the Astros or the team we're playing is mentioned. Then we make MORE copies.
• Minor league reports: The Astros have 6 farm teams total. For these teams, we write reports on how EACH days games went. We look up who pitched, his "line" (outing totals), which way he throws and details on the hitting. This is fun to write, but it's very fact based and there's little, literal, space for fun jargon.
• Post season guide updates: So ALLL those stats that we find and configure, go into separate spread sheets (ssssss) that will go into our post season media guide. We detail
• EVERYTHING that happens. Everything.E-mail: We e-mail these to the other team, our office and broadcasters. I made my first rookie mistake the other day when I sent the Clips to Arizona, because that's where they had been the few days I was learning it, and I got the response, "Hey Chelsea. You might want to send these to St. Louis.-The media person from Arizona" Ugh... their series ended.

12:30 p.m.: Lunch.
1:30 p.m.: Come back from lunch. Get back to the tasks that we have that day.

...................................day continues....................................................... (super ellipses)

5:30 p.m.: They PUSH you out the door here. "You're going to work such long hours when the team's here, you need to go home."
5:35 p.m.: Try not to run over people in the parking lot with Hoss.
5:43 p.m.: Hit traffic on 288. Ugh.
6:35 p.m.: Pull into the driveway. Yup. Solid hour of traffic both ways.
7ish p.m.: Make dinner for me and Michael, my "roommate." Hang out with him in the living room talking all sorts of different topics, playing on my computer, thinking about what to wear the next day.
10:00 p.m.: Make lunch for both of us. Sandwich (has been cajun turkey, munster, spicy mustard and ranch dressing), fruit, cheese rice cakes/peanut butter pillows, Fiber One bar. Coke Zero and an energy drink for me.
10:30 p.m.: Iron clothes for the next day.
11 p.m.: PASS OUT. This is why I'm not stumbling the next morning. I don't DO anything, I'm just becoming an old lady! Ahh!

Then, it starts all over. Same routine so far.

Second annual 21st birthday!!

It was my birthday yesterday! Wanna know what I did? Ok, sweet!

The greatest part was I had people to be around! The wonderful Chad Hughes came to visit! I'm sure you remember him from the Force blog, he was in the pizza costume in my "intern-ally crazy" post. He is with his best friend, Corey, who also hung out a lot with the Force. They are staying with Corey's Nanny who lives in Houston. Hey, I have a Nanny too!

Saturday- I met them when they first got into town at dinner with Nanny and her boyfriend, then to Howl at the Moon. Awesome dueling pianos. Thanks to Greg, the boyfriend, I got pulled onto stage to do a skit because it was my birthday. Fun stuff!
Sunday- Cookout at Nanny's

A shot from the back while I was on stage. That's me all the way to the right on the stage, or at least the side of my head. You probably can't see it, but 'ol chick and I are laughing together. Bonding.

Then it was really my birthday! Thank you to everyone who sent birthday wishes. My phone was going off NON-stop alllll day. It was great :)

Work was work, but MJ did treat me to lunch which was great :)

After work, it was time to celebrate! Thanks to the Lobpries sister's I had a great birthday. We (Chad, Corey and I (cccccccc)) met at Kristi's apartment, Jami's sister, and their friend Ross was there too. They made dinner reservations at this AWESOME sushi restaurant called RA out by Rice University. After dinner we went out in the Rice Village.

It was a great night, it really was. I haven't known these people this long, especially Ross who I just met before heading to dinner. It was nice to be around people, period, but these are especially great people. Jami told me when we first met she would take me out for my birthday, and almost three months later she came through. I'm truly grateful for that.

I'm truly blessed to have met a lot of people that I enjoy calling friends.