One of the salesmen, for example, became a star even though he'd shown up with two left sneakers and had to buy a new pair before he could play. Out on the court, he threw up a series of air balls that sailed 10 or 15 feet over the backboard, much to the delight of the spectators. Toward the end of the game, he found himself alone with the ball, far from the basket. "Shoot! Shoot!" somebody shouted. He took aim, and the ball flew in a perfect arc, swishing through the basket without touching the rim. The crowd went crazy.
That was the spirit of the games. People waved pom-poms, held up signs, and mixed Brooklyn catcalls with Bronx cheers. "Go back to calling receivables!" "This is basketball, not football!" It was fabulous.
As the tournament progressed I began to realize that we were getting a lot more out of the games than we'd bargained for. To begin with, we were seeing people interact in a setting that was a step removed from work, and we were gaining a lot of insights as a result. We were learning who hogged the ball, who shared with others, and who focused on the team. That was valuable information for supervisors. It also gave us important clues about the people we should be grooming as future managers.
"Suddenly, the salesman wasn't just someone who made demands on behalf of his customers. He was the good-natured guy who shot all those air balls and then sank a perfect basket."
At the same time, we were breaking down the barriers between departments. In the normal course of business, employees have relatively little contact with people in other parts of the company. The communication that does occur, moreover, often has to do with problems. Now people were really getting to know one another, and new bonds were forming. Suddenly, the salesman wasn't just someone who made demands on behalf of his customers. He was the good-natured guy who shot all those air balls and then sank a perfect basket.
And so the community grew stronger. Elaine and I have always strived to maintain the family feeling of the business, but that becomes harder as the company grows. Here, almost by accident, we'd found a new way to create that sense of familiarity.
Oddly enough, we were also building the company's reputation. One of our customers happened to drop by during a game. He joined the crowd at courtside and immediately got sucked in, laughing and cheering and having a ball. Afterward he came up to me. "That was the greatest," he said. "I really needed that today."
Pretty much the same thing happened with a woman who works for the company that supplies specialized software to businesses in our industry. "I don't know how you guys do it," she said, after watching a game. "That was the greatest thing I've ever seen a company do."
By the time we reached the grand finale, the cloud over the company had long since lifted. People were telling me that morale had never been better. Meanwhile, rumors were flying fast and furiously about what Brodsky, Weiner, and Kaplan had in mind for the last game.
What people did know was that we planned to make a party out of it. The game was scheduled for Saturday, November 10, and we'd invited all the employees and their families, as well as some customers, for a giant barbecue and lots of fun.
Game time was 1 p.m. The weather had turned cold and windy, so we set up the court in a warehouse. You could feel the excitement and anticipation as people gathered for the game. There was a carnival atmosphere. One of our accounting people handed out cotton candy and popcorn. Our head dispatcher served as the disc jockey. Spectators waved flags and pom-poms. Children ran around the court, trying to shoot baskets.
At about 12:45, Weiner and I came out in our basketball suits and began dribbling, shooting baskets, doing calisthenics, and generally clowning around. Soon we were joined by the members of the team that had emerged victorious from the double-elimination part of the tournament. I took them aside. "Whatever happens today," I said, "I want you to understand that you've won the first-place prize. So congratulations, and enjoy yourselves."
Back on the court, I took the microphone and introduced the daughter of one of our employees, who sang the national anthem. Then I said, "OK, now we're really going to play." At that moment, a door opened, and in ran three tall African American men in basketball suits with the names "Brodsky," "Weiner," and "Kaplan" on their shirts.
As people began to laugh, I said, "I'd like to introduce our cousins Broadway Brodsky, Speedy Weiner, and the Maniac Kaplan, of the Harlem Wizards. They'll be filling in for Louis, Sam, and me today."
The Wizards are similar to the Harlem Globetrotters. I'd seen them play once several years ago, and I'd tracked them down to serve as substitutes for my team. They put on a dazzling show for 20 minutes, drawing in people from the audience, and then played the final.
The Wizards worked their magic and won the game, but the real magic was happening off the court. The party went on all afternoon. When the last guests left, I had only one regret: that the tournament was over.
We're already planning the second annual CitiStorage basketball tournament. I guess I'll have to come up with a new surprise ending. The biggest surprise, however, has been the effect that the tournament has had on people in the company. Not only are we all closer now than we've ever been, but we're working more efficiently than before. Never would I have imagined that you could actually improve productivity by giving people an extra hour off to play -- or watch -- a game.
That's a kind of magic we could all use these days.
Norm Brodsky is a veteran entrepreneur whose six businesses include an Inc 100 company and a three-time Inc 500 company. This column was coauthored by Bo Burlingham. Previous Street Smarts columns are available online at www.inc.com/incmagazine/columns/streetsmarts.html.
Please e-mail your comments to editors@inc.com.
