I’ve had quite a number of jobs. I realized that recently.
Or…I don’t know. Maybe I haven’t; maybe this is normal. But as an adult (I’m 33, but I don’t think I decided to become an adult until after the age of 25), I have worked as a teacher for Kaplan, teaching SAT, ACT, and GRE prep; I have worked as a freelance writer — doing everything from ghostwriting business books to writing generic, cacophonous articles for websites in need of content; I have also worked in SEO and internet marketing, and have played DFS for a living; I have been the Premium Content Director at RotoGrinders; and my first novel was published, both in the States and in Italy (I did a whole book tour and everything). Before all that — when I was technically an adult but had no real interest yet in becoming one — I coached high school football (scouting from the booth on Friday nights and breaking down film over the weekends), and I played high-stakes poker and worked at a parking garage and did various other bizarre and unlikely things.
But one job I forgot about until just the other night was an audio marketing internship I did one summer (while also working at a car wash; oh, and working as an Assistant Manager at Lids). One of the guys I was doing the internship with was a hat-wearing Washington Redskins fan. And he told me the story one day of the reason he and his wife could never move to a new house.
Several years earlier, you see, he had signed up for NFL Sunday Ticket under a special-offer rate that allowed him to renew each year for $35. For life. If he moved, the deal would be void; but as long as he stayed in the same house forever, he could continue to watch every Redskins game for only $35 a year.
Sometime last autumn, I decided to launch my own website — a place where the NFL Edge would be able to take on new shape, with an intuitive navigation setup and a user-friendly interface, and with a note-taking tool that would put, not only more organization, but also more authority into the hands of the readers. I started building out ideas for the layout in my head and coming up with functions that would maximize the utility and the user experience.
And then, I told my brother-in-law that I planned to charge twenty-five dollars per year. And he looked at me like I’d had one too many concussions. (I guess one is too many. I’ve had two.)
After a couple months of consulting with people and further working on ideas — months of being told I should charge at least $79 — I settled on $39. I’m honestly still not sure why I did it, but something about that number felt right. I wanted to begin at a price that would make sense for DFS players who had been unable to subscribe to premium content before — to start at a price that could level the playing field somewhat between the professional players and the guys and gals out there still refining their talents or just plain doing this for fun. It has been truly awesome to see how many “first time” subscribers we have been able to open our doors to already on this site. But even beyond creating a space for those “new” subscribers, the biggest factor in my thought process was those of you who have been hanging out with me for years. I wanted to make it easy for you to carry both subscriptions if you want to, rather than making you feel like you have to choose between the two.
My friends and family were right, of course. I should be charging at least $79 for the site. But to be completely honest with you, I’m happy that I didn’t.
Or, I should be clear: I’m not that happy. I mean…$39? Come on, are you kidding?
And so, after the first games kick off on Sunday the 16th of September, the price of The One Week Season will rise to $59 for all new subscribers.
If you subscribe before that time at the $39 price tag, you get to renew every year at that price. For life.
You don’t even have to stay in the same house forever.