Gatorade ran an entire ad campaign based on the fact that kids wanted to be like Michael Jordan. There was even the corny jingle to go along with it. It makes all sense though. MJ was the alpha male of a generation, across celebrities in every conceivable field, and kids are drawn to that. 10-year-olds don't want to grow up and work at the post office, they want to pitch for the Yankees. Of course, few ever get to step foot on the mound, and mailmen are practically extinct because there are drones literally flying over us 24/7 doing crazy shit like delivering mail, but that's the nature of the world we live in.
But what about Pippen? Or Rodman? Or Kerr? That whole squad contributed to Jordan's rise. A role player's value only becomes significant when you have a star like Jordan on your team. The same goes for any professional field. Why do you think Google is the most competitive company in the country to work for? As top dog in an increasingly growing industry, everyone who works there has to be A1. And, don't get it fucked up, working at Google, no matter what the position, is a prestigious job. Even if you aren't CFO, there's plenty of reasons to stunt when you're working for at a place like that.
We've all spent years dreaming about being the alpha, and what for? MJ may be the greatest, but he's also a swaggerless piece of garbage human that no one who knows personally has ever had anything good to say about. In some cases, there's more glory in being a soldier than there is in being a boss. I mean, Steve Kerr just got a job coaching the most electrifying young team in the league, while Michael Jordan is still running the Charlotte Hornets into the ground.
This dynamic became clearer to me than ever when watching The Wire, white people's favorite television show, which, yes, is a dope show regardless if white people are trying to ruin it or not. In the show's first season, Avon Barksdale is the Michael Jordan of West Baltimore drug dealing, so to speak: a king, no doubt, but still a wanted man with a bullseye on his back who must take extreme precautionary measures to duck the 5-0 at all times. In one instance, Avon cuts off his girlfriend's telephone line because he thinks the police are listening in. In another, Avon rips out the payphones in The Pit (one of the drug dealing locales he operates) for the same shit. Throughout the entire season, Avon is on edge—whether it's about phones, court cases or rivals like Omar—and, even after taking all the steps necessary to protect himself and his business, still gets pinched for a two year bid.
Meanwhile, Bodie, one of Avon's soldiers, is thriving on elite levels. Bodie is clearly on the come-up throughout the first season, winning the respect of his colleagues. He's loyal and ruthless, two crucial characteristics for any employee. And, although he's not the official leader of The Pit crew, it's clear Bodie gets the respect he's due.
I wanted the worthwhile life of a writer at a company I thought was dope. I didn't want to run the fucking company.
Watching all this, I couldn't help but fuck with Bodie the most. Here's another young dude really going after it. He's recognized his professional limitations for the moment, but doesn't let that negatively affect his viewpoint. If anything, it only makes him hustle harder. How can anybody in their 20's not relate to this guy?
When I started at my first job I was at the bottom too. I basically filled out spreadsheets and wrote up blogs all day. There was nothing glamorous about the work, but I wanted to be a writer, so I grinded my way through it. I came into the office earlier than anybody else and made sure I was on top of any assignment that came in. When my boss had mundane tasks to get done, I was the first employee to hop on it. Go get coffee? Done. Edit this post? Done? Go move the stash? Done and fucking done. Whatever it was, I was not only about it, but about to do it. In the process, I became a ruthless worker who would do whatever it took to garner respect from my peers.
But once I got my promotion, I was unsatisfied. I went from doing something I enjoyed—in blogging stories and talking to local politicians—to dealing with budgets. I had become my bosses right-hand man, eventually next in line to be his assistant. Fuck that. Maintaining budgets wasn't trill at all and I didn't start working there just to do corny shit. I wanted the worthwhile life of a writer at a company I thought was dope. I didn't want to run the fucking company. My thirst for the hustle still rushed through my veins. I wanted to get back to the e-streets.
These days, I get to write whatever I want for some of the dopest sites in the world. Yeah, that's it. But that's ill. As a VP or CEO somewhere else, I would never have that opportunity. Instead, I would be pitching decks, dealing with investors or some other bullshit that would be more tiresome than a J. Cole verse. Life's too short for that shit, man.
Listen, everybody wants to be the boss. I totally get it. You get to order around fools all day, maybe cop a nicer car and have your name ringing in the streets. But don't think for a second that bosses are the ones making the dopest moves. The soldiers are the one's out here creating. They're the ones out here moving that product, whatever it may be. It's the soldiers, regardless of what field they're are working in, who are living the kind of life we all really want.
Illustration via Danni Zamudio
Brian Padilla is a writer living in Brooklyn. You can follow him on Twitter here.
