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The Smiths You Just Havent Earned It yet Baby

Wayne Rooney, Arsehole Salesmen, The Smiths and North Korea

If you’re wondering why

All the love that you long for eludes you

And people are rude and cruel to you

I’ll tell you why..
The Smiths, You Just Haven’t Earned It Yet Baby

 

Sheesh.

It looks like Manchester United has finally managed to placate Wayne Rooney and offer him a deal, which my sources tell me will amount to £65million over the next four years.

A bleedin’ crazy amount of money.

Does he need it? I doubt it.

Does he deserve it? Maybe, maybe not.

See, here’s the thing: the world ain’t a very fair place, and whether or not he “deserves” it or not is immaterial.

The market is only arbitrar of how much Rooney is paid, not some bloke down the pub on a Saturday afternoon shouting at a TV screen after his fifth pint of Guinness.

Or some braindead troll ranting on foot.ie.

And all this talk of footballer salary “obscenity” takes me back to my own brush with market economics almost ten years ago.

Back then I was little more than a bottom feeding systems gimp with a strong sense of entitlement, earning little above the minimum wage.

So, after a year into the job I confronted my boss asking him for a raise, but was casually rebuffed, receiving a puny increase that would barely cover a wet weekend in Wexford.

I remember storming across the M50 toll bridge on the way home, incandescent with rage, angry at the world and how “unfair” it all was when The Smiths “You Just Haven’t Earned It Yet Baby” came booming across my car stereo.

It’s true the irony wasn’t lost on me, as Johnny Marr’s jangly Rickenbacker led intro chimed loudly in my hot little ears while I fumbled for some loose change for the toll.

See, my paltry price was predicated on the value I had brought to the company. Being young, stupid, and ignorant of how market economics worked, I was furious that doing a “good job” wasn’t enough to warrant me receiving the wages I desired.

So I moaned about “how unfair it was” to anybody who would listen, and generally cried about it like a little bitch.

Bu until such time actually provided the company with an appropriate amount of value commensurate with what I thought I deserved, I would forever be languishing in a bitter well of self-pity.

That was why the arsehole salesmen that used to march into my office, arrogantly slamming their laptops on my desk demanding to be fixed immediately got paid far more than me.

Their value to the company was of a far greater amount than mine or arguably any of my colleagues.

In a more “egalitarian” society, hard working road sweepers would be millionaires, and Wayne Rooney would only get a McWage for knocking a ball around for 90 minutes twice a week.

But we don’t live in Communist North Korea, and as such no one body or meddlesome bureaucrat determines who should be paid what.

Only the market does.

And believe it or not, Rooney’s protracted contract negotiations can teach us a little pricing lesson also.

Remember how I discussed last year that a fast track way to higher profits is to simply raise your prices?

Well, I don’t know if you did raise your prices, or if you’re still stumbling along, afraid to take the plunge.

But if you are hesitating on putting up your prices let me propose this: let the market decide for you whether your prices are too high.

For they, and they alone are the true arbitrars of what your product or service is really worth.

Like Rooney and his £65mill, you might be surprised how much it is.

Anyways, just a little something for you to chew on this cold February morning.

Stay Hungry,

Keith Commins

P.S. I idolised Morrissey (of the Smiths) as a young fella growing up, and I actually got my copy of the “Best of the Smiths” signed by him when he wandered into HMV in Grafton Street one Saturday afternoon. Probably one of the shyest people I’ve ever encountered, and ironically he was hesitant to sign my copy because he “didn’t deserve to”.

Seems he really did take his own words to heart

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