What’s in a name?

Or why you should judge a superintendent by his title.

Tim Moraghan

Fall is traditionally the time when people in our business start looking for jobs, and clubs, courses and resorts begin their searches for new personnel. If you are among those looking – or if a property comes calling – you need to be prepared. This means having an updated resume ready to go at all times, as well as a prepared “stump speech” about who you are, what you do and what you want to do next.

Each year, I help individuals and clubs find each other, as well as coaching others to move up our “corporate ladder.” I’ve found a few areas where job-hunters make simple mistakes that cost them opportunities. These include making sure the resume’s timeline of experience is accurate; the resume and cover letter are attractive and functional; cover letters are brief – they are not autobiographies; and limit sentences that start with “I.”

Among the advice you’re going to get about finding a new job, the most important is to be truthful. Be accurate about your education, experience and personal history. In this Internet age, it is very easy for potential employers to learn the truth. And trust me: They are going to look. If there’s anything embarrassing on your Facebook account, get it off. Now.

Job-seekers are especially good at fact-fudging their title. Sometimes they inflate their position, often they use a false title, a label they made up – and their current employer went along with – that sounds impressive. In most cases, false titles are confusing and force you into a lot of unnecessary explaining.

GCSAA stands for Golf Course Superintendents Association of America. You should wear membership as a badge of honor and remember what the “S” means.

Now ask yourself if the title you’re “wearing” reflects the position you hold and the duties you perform. When in doubt, simplify. And better yet, go with a title in common use everyone will understand.

If you’re an assistant applying for a superintendent job, good for you and good luck. But remember, you’re an assistant now and shouldn’t pretend to be anything else. Don’t camouflage your title or responsibilities in a complicated name. Clubs are used to hiring assistants and making them the head guy: That’s how people move up, so there should be no embarrassment in stating your actual title.

If you are a first assistant or overseeing one course in a multi-course complex, be honest: The bulk of responsibility does not really rest on your shoulders, so don’t say it does. If you’re not responsible for budgets, membership interaction or personnel, be honest. You have nothing to gain and everything to lose.

Facts like these are easily checked and lying on your resume or in conversation – even if your “lie” is nothing more than inflating your position a little bit – is the fastest way to lose any hope of that new job. No one is a bigger advocate for helping junior people move up more than I am, but when consulting with a club, I’m the first one to remove a candidate from over just such tall-tale telling.

You cannot “fake it till you make it.” Someone is going to find you out, if not in the hiring process, then when you’re on the job. Clubs know that people moving up will need on-the-job training and some learning curve is inevitable. However, if they believe they’re hiring the total package and it turns out to have some big holes, that’s going to mean trouble for you.

While every profession has its share of meaningless or derogatory titles, we superintendents seem to have more than our share. Whenever you’re thinking of inventing a new title for yourself, think for a minute about some of the silly ones that have been applied to us:

  • Grass ass
  • Dirt monkey
  • Dirt farmer
  • Weed whacker
     

Now think about some of the even sillier ones we could come up with to inflate our egos and “impress” others:

  • Director of blade management
  • Stimp supervisor
  • Soil prober
  • Seeding oversight director
     

Being a superintendent – and carrying that title in any form – implies a position of responsibility, authority and knowledge. No matter where you are on the hierarchy, you’ve worked hard to get where you are, both cracking the books and working the land. Take a step outside, look at that golf course you’re responsible for, and remind yourself, “I helped do that.”

 

Tim Moraghan, principal, ASPIRE Golf (tmoraghan@aspire-golf.com). Follow Tim’s blog, Golf Course Confidential at http://www.aspire-golf.com/buzz.html or on Twitter @TimMoraghan

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