It was Sunday evening. Earlier that afternoon I had attended the anniversary of Pastor Sims at Solid Rock Baptist Church in Appling. It was a beautiful celebration, and I could still recall the guest pastor, the Rev. Blount, saying that if you want people to understand, be committed and buy into something, you have to make it relatable.
I was attempting to explain to a friend the impact I thought Global Spectrum has had on the entertainment scene in our area.
I looked up from my newspaper and said to my friend, “Monty Jones and his folks are bringing it … not only have they found a way to bring in quality entertainment, but in essence, they are impacting the bottom line in downtown Augusta as well.”
(Monty Jones is the general manager for James Brown Arena and Bell Auditorium, which are managed by Global Spectrum).
I continued with a bit too much enthusiasm, “Global Spectrum is bringing Frankie Beverly and Maze and Anthony Hamilton on Mother’s Day! I’d sure like to go.”
My friend was watching an old Ali fight on DVD and said kind of haphazardly “… Global who? What did he do?”
I frowned at him and shook my head. That’s when I recalled Pastor Blount’s message from earlier that day.
“Yep,” I continued, “Global Spectrum had a real TKO with the Elton John show.”
He looked up from the video.
“Huh,” he replied.
“Monty Jones is a great coach and corner-man. I’m sure people thought they were down and out for the count, but they just keep going the distance,” I said.
Now my friend was looking right at me.
“Wow,” I thought, “this make-it-relatable stuff really works.” So I continued with more confidence.
“Did you know that Global Spectrum has had tons of sold-out shows this year? The Scream tour, Tyler Perry’s The Haves and the Have Nots, Jerry Seinfeld – and Elton John was the highest-grossing, highest-attended show in the arena’s history.
“They keep getting in those jabs, with bigger and better shows every month.”
He continued to stare at me. I had his full attention, so I kept going.
“People can no longer sit on the ropes and get their tickets at the last minute when these shows come. I think that’s a good thing, don’t you?” I asked.
“Yes, Cher, I do,” he answered.
I kept calm on the outside, but internally I was ecstatic; he was actually listening to me!
Then he said, “Pound for pound, that was a good little speech, Cher Best, and yes, we can go to the show. Now, can you please hand me that cola behind you?”
I handed him the Coke and went back to reading my paper, but I was smiling, because I may not know boxing but I sure do know him … and that, my friends, is how you do a rope-a-dope.