As Director of Marketing for SUMO Heavy, one of my primary tasks is to produce content. The cornerstone of that content is the blog post that the Marketing Team and I write each week. We then take this content and repurpose it into smaller chunks, maximizing our content output and reach.
Here are a few recent blog posts I’ve written recently for SUMO Heavy on the Insights section of our website:
As a kid, I was an avid baseball fan. Hank Aaron was chasing Babe Ruth’s record for most home runs, and any kid who was into the sport was following it closely.
Think about it – the guy was about to beat the legend, Babe Ruth. He had already tied the record at 714, so beating the record was all that more exciting.
Back then, my mother worked so I spent a lot of time at my grandparent’s house. I knew that day the game would be on TV, but my grandparents weren’t exactly sports fans, so I was relegated to the portable 13” black and white TV in the bedroom. I didn’t care – all I cared about was seeing history being made (and being able to talk about it in the schoolyard the next day).
I don’t recall much of the game except when he hit home run number 715 over the fence. I remember the big Bank Americard billboard in the outfield and the guy with the net attempting to catch the ball. I saw him run the bases, with fans in pursuit, then his teammates and parents congratulating him.
I got so excited, I knocked over the TV (it was on a stand) and the screen smashed on the floor. I remember the bright flash of light as the tubes exploded, then the silence, and the inevitable “What the hell did you do?” coming from my Grandfather on the first floor. But I did get to see baseball history.
I followed the rest of his home runs that year, just from another TV.
Here’s a great recap of the home run by the immortal Vin Scully:
We’re all feeling a little sad. Our lives have been turned upside down. We’re frustrated because an invisible enemy is taking lives and upending our sense of normalcy. In America, we shoot down our enemies or sue them into oblivion to make them disappear. It’s not happening this time. This thing does what it wants, on its own terms. Right now the virus is killing 3000 Americans per day. Reports are surfacing that it’s now mutating. You can get it once – then get it again!
We’re living in a bad sci-if movie.
Americans simply aren’t good at being told what to do. They’re not very good at sitting still, either. With the weather starting to break, many have simply decided “Yea, I’m done with this. I’m gonna go outside and be normal again.” That temporary stay of execution will come back to haunt us later this summer. It’s going to be brutal.
Enjoy your haircut, Karen. I hope it was worth it.
I can’t even look at my calendar. Each day I get the notifications of canceled events. I feel awful for the kids that were supposed to have prom and graduate now. The couples who planned that special wedding, only to be postponed (or even canceled – yikes!). Birthdays, anniversaries, christenings – all the things that make life rich have been postponed or made into a Zoom meeting. Our social lives are now led via a webcam.
I miss the mundane. I miss my routines. I miss going to the gym, then messing it all up with a stop at the bagel shop. I miss just strolling through a home improvement store, daydreaming about all the house projects I can’t afford. I miss impromptu errand runs that turn into an adventure, I miss taking a drive on the weekend to see where I end up. I really miss restaurants, and what I wouldn’t give for a few too many good German beers and conversation at my beloved Biergarten on a Friday night.
We stay home because we have to. We stay home to protect not only ourselves but to protect others. We stay home because this thing will kill you and we stay home so that our hospital workers are not overwhelmed and forced to make difficult choices on who to treat. We stay home because its the smart thing to do.
For those that can’t stay home – the essential workers: those in healthcare, the grocery workers keeping us fed, the bus drivers, the ones out there every single day, dealing with the knuckleheads. You’re the heroes. I pray for your safety.
The good thing about a catastrophe or a crisis is that they eventually end. And this will – just not next week or next month or maybe not even until next year.
