We called it the $30,000 hockey jersey.
I was helping organize a speaker series at the University of Oregon, and we wanted to invite Guy Kawasaki to speak. We had a generous, but limited budget, but when I saw that his speaking agent was a U of O alum, I figured it would be no problem. So I emailed her and asked her about having Mr. Kawasaki speak. She said she’d be delighted to help arrange it, and told me his speaker fee. I gulped. That was many times our budget, and I knew we could not meet that fee.
At the time, I was in the middle of reading Enchantment, Kawaskai’s book about persuasion and how to get people to do what you wanted them to do. Over the weekend, I finished reading it, and in the very last chapters, Kawasaki explained how to get somebody -like him – to open and read your emails, especially if you wanted them to do something for you. He also included his email address! I was amazed, and skeptical, but figured it was worth a try.
First, I spent a few hours reading his blog and social media posts. I learned that he was a huge fan of hockey, of good design, and had recently visited Oregon and had raved about the track and field tradition that had resulted in Phil Knight starting Nike with his track coach Bill Bowerman. I knew a few people involved with track and field, and knew one of Nike’s top designers. I also noted that he had a blog called Holy Kaw! (and there was a restaurant on campus called “Holy Cow” and he’d noticed it on his visit.)
Here’s (as best as I can recall) the email:
TO: GUY KAWASAKI
SUBJECT: Come speak at UO and we’ll get you tickets to the sold out Olympic Trials
Dear Mr. Kawasaki,
We would like you to come speak at the UO, if you agree, we will introduce you to the designer of the O, provide a set of tickets for you and your family to attend the Olympic Trials for Track & Field that will be held here this summer, and ask the place in the student union to correct the spelling of their name for your visit – Holy Kaw!
Our budget is a tad (actually, a whole lot) less than your usual fee, but we are wondering: Would you please consider speaking here next spring?
Within 20 minutes, I had an email back. It said simply:
Sure. I’ll do it.
A few weeks later, his agent set up a phone call for us to work out all the final logistics. I asked him how many tickets he wanted to the Trials. He said: “w\Well, I’m not sure we can go to the meet, but what I really want is one of the UO hockey jerseys.”
Wow. I thought. That’s easy.
Of course, it wasn’t quite as easy as I expected. The hockey team had special jerseys that couldn’t be purchased anywhere. But when I called their coach and explained our dilemma, he had an idea: “We often give the jersey as a gift to the donors who support our program. Maybe you could do that?” Done!
Guy (he told me I could call him that) spoke on campus, to a standing ovation, and we kept in touch over the next few years. He’d call whenever he was in town, and we’d try to get lunch or dinner. He even sent me a photo of him skating at Notre Dame in his Oregon hockey jersey.
When I saw Wise Guy, I immediately picked it up. It is a book of stories and advice and, from my experience, sincerely Guy. He shares what wisdom he has learned over his 60+ years, and tells some great stories as he goes. Nothing too complicated. Nothing too deep or even exceptional – just simple wisdom from somebody who has written 14 books and flies all over the world giving speeches – for, I imagine, a lot more than a hockey jersey.
The final chapter is written by his children and some friends who tell their “classic Guy” stories. I was heartened to read that my experience with him was not an exception – it was just another version of the many ways Guy Kawasaki has delighted people who have had the pleasure of crossing his path.
Go read his book if you don’t believe me.
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