Page 29 of The Ex Puck Bunny
But I digress.
Derek now has Bunny’s attention and is wrapping her carrot sticks with pepperoni.
Grady steals one and tries it too. “It’s good.”
I frown and for once am looking forward to going to work. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy coaching figure skaters, but at my previous job, I got to wear sequins at least once a week. In short, it was a lot of fun. This often feels like a slog.
When I hear the wordsocial media, I drop in on Derek and Grady’s conversation.
“I find it hard to believe the Knights are as good as they are and don’t have a social media manager,” Grady says.
“Heidi, do you have any insider information on this?” Derek asks.
“The Knights are old school. They rely on word of mouth and fans to spread the word. It worked back in the day. Can still work now. But having a robust online presence can spread your reach and include people who aren’t diehard fans. For instance, say a guy is really into hockey but his significant other isn’t, or vice versa, an engaging account can act as a funnel to draw them in.”
“But Badaszek wants Grady to record, direct—what was it again?” my brother asks.
He scrubs his hand down his face. “Daily video diaries and engaging posts for a comeback campaign. The activities cataloger. Curator. I can’t remember exactly what Cara said. This is not my wheelhouse.”
He squishes up his face, seemingly uncomfortable with the idea of social media content creation. I can’t help but chuckle.
Derek provides me with instant retribution. “But it’s exactly Heidi’s. She was a social media manager before and coordinated the entertainment for the Lions during intermissions and halftime if there was overtime during playoffs. For the record, I did not approve of the pom pom shaking.”
Once more, I roll my eyes at my big brother. “In the modern day, teams have to face facts. The commercials on the big screens are stale. The poor clowns and other outdated performers are largely ignored. I proposed several former figure skaters do cheer-like routines but on skates.”
“And pom poms,” Derek adds.
“It was a hit.”
Grady looks at me with interest. “I remember that vaguely during an away game against the Lions. The guys were frothing to see the girls on the ice.”
I huff. “I also managed the social media side of things. I’d recreate viral videos, use popular templates but make them hockey. That kind of thing.” I love motherhood, but most days I feel pulled in so many different directions with having multiple jobs that I miss going to work and that being the lone task for the day.
“To be clear, I am not a LA Lions fan, and counted my sister as a traitor until she moved back home and returned her loyalty to the true best team of all time, however, what you were doing was seriously popular.” Derek gives me a chin nod of approval.
Feeling a little burst of pride inside, I give a humble nod in return as I remember the stats, the fan fervor, and how merch sales increased by over seventy percent once the social media campaigns gained steam. Everyone wanted to be a part of it.
I mutter, “That degree in public relations sure is coming in handy now.”
“You posted on the Fish Bowl’s account and Uncle Stan said T-shirt sales have doubled.”
“That’s because he sold maybe five a year up until then and most customers didn’t even realize we sold tees.”
“Just saying. You have a special skill. It’s not easy to make something go viral. Unless you’re falling off a bicycle into a pond filled with gators or something.”
I wince. “That’s because people have a morbid fascination with dumpster fires.”
Grady grunts.
Bunny echoes the sound.
Derek follows suit, exaggerating it so he sounds like a rhinoceros or some other wild creature.
The three of them play the grunting game, each getting sillier, while I finish my pizza because I’m a civilized human being.
“Okay, I’m going to leave this zoo. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Did you get your car fixed?” Grady asks.
