Lately, there has been a lot in the news about mismanagement.

Just this week, I have personally received more than a dozen calls and texts about Pitt’s Athletic Director, Steve Pederson, regarding:

• His role in hiring Coach Michael Haywood --- a guy he then had to fire not less than 15 days later.
• His role in overseeing the Pitt Ticket Office --- a business unit that, and except for the brief amount of time it was run by a competent manager, has almost always been a source of agita for the University, and,
• His role in managing the athletic department per se. Without even soliciting background, I have learned that this particular department almost seems not to be managed at all. It is seemingly just a loose collaboration of individuals … not at all a team.

I have (or maybe had after writing this article?) a number of good friends in this department. Hell, I used to work in this department --- operating the complex and cantankerous computer system that provided information and entertainment for the Pitt Stadium/Heinz Field crowd during “Pederson I” – Steve’s first go-round, prior to 1992. There are some very talented and loyal-to-Pitt individuals in this department.

But, and as Michael Dukakis said during the 1988 presidential elections, “A fish rots at the head.” And what I think we may have here is a rotten fish.

It’s hard for me to write these things. For as I said above, there are a number of very talented people in the department and I know some of them personally. But if they are lead by a guy who doesn’t really even care to manage --- well, you get the picture.

Moreover, I’m not the world’s greatest manager either. For to become a great manager you first have to experience what it is like to even be a manager. And I mean experience everything. This takes time and this requires many, many “plate appearances.” Once again, you have to want those plate appearances. You have to want to put in the face time with your people -- asking them things (this is hard) that you really would just as soon prefer not to know.

How many managers have you known (or worked for) that truly took the time to get to know you and your family? I’ll bet your answer to this is, “damned few.” And, how many managers have you known who actually conducted your performance review both on-time and in the proper way (i.e., notepad in hand, and with notes in hand from your last review --- notes that you could actually look at --- asking you the tough questions, questions that you know they would much rather not even get into?).

Few “managers” manage this way. And almost zero ego-guys manage this way.

And Steve Pederson is an ego-guy. Because, and at the end of the day, Steve is first and foremost, a salesman.

No shame in that. Hell, the highest paid people in every one of my companies either is, or has been, a salesman.

Selling is a tough, tough job.

But it is very, very hard for a salesman to “transform” him or herself into a great manager. In fact, the art of managing is actually counter-intuitive to how a salesman typically thinks. For salesmen often “win” by manipulating and/or, by getting people to like them while great managers don’t really care if they are liked or not. They only care about the health and success of the entity. It’s quite simply just in their wiring to behave this way.

When Pitt hired Steve the first time, they most likely needed a salesman. Donations were down and nothing really exciting was happening. And without money, the wheels that propel any athletic program simply stop turning.

So along came Steve, with his broad strokes (knock down the stadium, build a new gymnasium, change the name of the school, hire new coaches) and his famous smile. All of a sudden, the big donors started giving again. Why? Well, for one thing, he sold them! He sold them what all great salesmen sell --- a bright future.

And for a while, things were bright.

During his first tour of duty, Steve Pederson was everywhere. You couldn’t attend a major Pitt athletic contest without seeing him either at mid-court or on the 50-yard line. You couldn’t turn on a sports broadcast and not see his smiling face. He never saw a camera that he didn’t like.

And while all of this was going on, a host of people, lead by one very quiet and conscientious person by the name of Jim Earle, were behind the glamour, cleaning up the messes that Steve had created. If Steve would swing and miss, these folks cleaned up the aftermath of that swing. But if he hit one out of the park, well then Steve (may have) congratulated everybody.

I saw this because I was there. At that time, I was a lowly grunt, programming and running the scoreboards at both the football and basketball games. Steve had no idea who I was and I liked it that way. So probably I was no threat to his ego.

But I watched him and his “style.” And I grew to really dislike that style.

Just one example. I saw a young and ambitious intern put his resume into play. Steve found out about this and fired the person on the spot. No questions asked. The deal was you either worshipped “the program” (nee: Steve Pederson) or you had no right being a part of it. It was written.

One of the biggest problems Steve had as a manager was that there were actually two Steves --- the one that his superiors “saw,” and then the one that his subordinates dealt with. And these were very different people.

Great managers are consistent. Always the same person regardless of who comes calling.

But great managers are very hard to come by and even harder to keep. If you find one, hold on with both hands. (Fortunately, Pittsburgh Business Radio has exactly such a guy. And it sure ain’t’ me!)

Management. It’s the hardest thing to master in business. It took me 20 years to learn how to be an effective manager -- and that was with my money on the table -- imagine how long it takes someone who is using OPM (Other People’s Money) to master this art?

As for Pitt? Well, I hope they get their man (woman). Like I said earlier, there are a whole passel of high-integrity folks at Pitt. People like Carol Sprague, Agnus Berenato, E.J. Borghetti (one of my favorite all-time people -- period!), and many other coaches and athletes.

Any of these people, and assuming they can manage, could possibly run an athletic department.

And then there is also that quiet guy, Jim Earle, who backstopped Pederson during “Pederson I.” He would be my choice as Athletic Director -- though I doubt he’d accept the position. For he is the best manager I have ever known.

I just hope Pitt finds someone who can run the place. And soon. (After first finding a football coach, that is!)