Chapter 4 -- Fulfilling Wishes
Monday September 5
I skipped the dojo tonight so I could go to my mom's real-estate office. She'd gotten a new listing, and I was assigned to take photos for my Photography class. Mom took me to a ranch-style home that was your basic three-bedroom, two-bath, two-car garage on a quarter-acre lot.
"When I shoot a home, I try to do it the same way every time. The Multiple Listing Service allows up to thirty-six pictures, so don't skimp. I like to start with the outside and then work my way inside. Most realtors just take the traditional head-on shot and try to get as much of the side yard in the picture as possible to frame the photo," she said.
I stepped out into the road and did as she suggested. I made sure I didn't have the other houses in the shot and then noticed Mom's car in the driveway. She chuckled and moved it. She was just making sure I was paying attention.
She joined me on the road.
"What's wrong with this view? Think in terms of putting the house in the best possible light to sell," Mom coached.
"If I were being picky, I see that the curtains are closed in some windows, the blinds are halfway down in that one, the flowerpots aren't lined up, and the hedge could be trimmed."
She handed me the keys and sent me inside to fix the curtains and blinds. I came out, and she'd rearranged the flowerpots.
"Think of a house as a commodity. When you have several that look pretty much alike in a subdivision like this, you want yours to look the best. It's why they pay people to 'face' canned goods in a grocery store. Someone figured out that they sold more if the aisles looked neat," she explained.
The house was vacant. Mom explained it was much harder to shoot a vacant home than one that was furnished. For the next hour and a half, we shot the house at almost every angle imaginable. I learned some practical techniques like not to shoot a mirror straight-on because the picture would show your reflection. Mom didn't buy my suggestion that having me in the photo was a selling point.
Other things she taught me were to make sure toilet seats were down and to bring a few items--like a brightly colored cookie jar or a bowl of fruit--to break up the counter space. She also pointed out that shooting straight-on at eye level wasn't always best. Sometimes you needed to crouch down to get the best angle.
I was able to do my time-lapse pictures at different f-stops. Mom showed me she had an app on her phone that did the same thing.
We went back outside. It was just starting to get dark, and she'd turned on all the lights in the house. It was a cool effect with the lights making the house feel alive. She then had me shoot the front from different angles. She didn't want to lead with the traditional shot that would make the first impression when people scrolled through the websites. She wanted something that slowed them down enough that they might click on her listing.
Finally, she handed me her phone and had me do a video walk-through of the house. To start, I turned it on her, and she introduced herself. For the local MLS (Multiple Listing Service), she would edit that part out, but for her personal website, she wanted people to put a face to the listing. Next, I simply held the phone up and walked through the house while she talked, pointing out all its features, and then she talked about the neighborhood.
I never realized how much work she put into listing a home. Now she had to go back and find the right combination of shots to make it stand out.
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On the way home, she had some news for me.
"I had a football recruiter stop by from Southwest Central State. He wanted to know if you had any interest in coming to check them out. I told him that you already had the schools you wanted to see lined up. He then asked what it would take for you to make a visit. I got the impression he was offering money," Mom said.
"Don't tell Cassidy. She'll figure out how she can make money on the deal."
Cassidy had accompanied me on a recruiting trip and learned all about hundred-dollar handshakes.
"I've heard plenty of stories about inducements to play college ball. There are rumors about schools on your list that have 'bought' commitments. I'm actually surprised you haven't had someone approach you."
"Let's get some information from someone who would know," I said.
I connected my phone to the Bluetooth in my mom's car.
"I was just talking about you and how you could make us contenders," Bo Harrington said.
"I know, Alabama just needs me to get over the hump."
"Did you call to commit?" he asked.
"No, I have a question. Mom was approached by someone, and she got the feeling they wanted to offer her money. How much would someone like me be worth on the open market?" I asked.
The phone went quiet.
"Bo, David isn't serious," Mom said.
"Thank God! I wasn't sure if you were setting me up or looking for something."
"Hypothetically, what do you think I might be worth?" I asked.
"That's hard to say, and just so we're clear, I have no direct knowledge of what I'm about to tell you," Bo said, and my mother snorted to share her thoughts on that disclaimer. "Basketball players seem to be at a premium. A top-five small forward might be worth $100,000, but a five-star quarterback would be worth at least that much, I would assume.
"For you, that would be the starting point because you bring more with you than just your football skills. Remember when you went to the Northwestern--Stanford game? You told me that you were surprised the place wasn't sold out. What would it be worth to them to have a full stadium? If you draw even half as well as you did playing high school baseball, it would be a boon.
"I mean, do the math. If you could draw an additional ten thousand season-ticket holders at Northwestern, their cheapest plan is like $160. That's $1.6 million in ticket sales, and we haven't even touched merchandise sales. I know that if you came here, half our fan base would have your jersey.
"Then let's consider the draw of additional students. Someone like you would help our numbers, just like Missouri took a hit when their football team threatened to boycott football games if their president, who they deemed ineffective in resolving the racist climate, didn't resign. Believe me, we are very aware of what negative press of that kind could do to our program. At Missouri, they're feeling the backlash in a big way. Enrollment is down, forcing them to close dorms and lay off over 400 employees. Good press and growth can have the opposite effect," Bo explained.
"Bottom-line it for me," I said.
"I would guess you could command at least half a million, if not double or triple that at the right place."
"What's Alabama offering?" I teased.
"A full ride, me as your coach, a chance to play in National Championship games, and then if you feel like going to school, we'll throw that in at no additional cost."
"Have you ever thought of selling real estate? I'm always looking for smooth talkers," Mom said.
"If it means your son plays for Alabama, I'm sure they'd fire me, and I would need a job."
"I just realized you didn't guarantee me a starting spot or scholarships for my posse," I complained.
"That's life. Suck it up and sign with us and let's end this insane tour you plan to do this fall."
"I forgot to tell you. Wisconsin stepped on their dicks with my dad."
"David, language," Mom warned.
"I asked them what the best fraternity for me to join was. They told us I wouldn't have enough time for a frat because I'd be too busy preparing for football. Dad wondered if I would have time to study."
