It was January, 1971.
He watched me jump rope. He laughed and called out, “Hey, white boy! What YOU doin’ here?”
He floated like a butterfly, stung like a bee. He was The Greatest.
Me? No float. No sting. Nobody.
He had a point. What WAS I doing there?
Oh, yeah. A frustrated college football player, I’d decided to be a boxer. So just before Christmas, 1970, I left The University of Oregon and headed for boxing’s mecca … Miami Beach’s Fifth Street Gym.
The doors flung open at noon. Media, microphones. Howard Cosell, Burt Lancaster, Angelo Dundee. Cameras, high rollers, cigars. Plus a few dozen guys with bent noses and fat ears. The scene was surreal.
But I couldn’t help noticing an alarming lack of unreality inside the ring. Ali pounded his sparring partner, seriously training for his first Joe Frazier fight. Glad I could give him a laugh. Gladder yet I wasn’t in there with him.
Three months later, my knee blew. I retired undefeated, unfought. “The Greatest” never noticed.
Fast Forward 19 Years
1990 was my 13th year driving a county bus in Miami & Miami Beach. I’d started and failed so many businesses, I lost count. I couldn’t sell a lick. Did one dumb thing after another. Married with 4 kids by this time, I had cost us tens of thousands of dollars.
On breaks, I studied sales letters. I’d written a couple dozen for other people, with some small success.
I sent samples to the Prince of Print, Gary Halbert, world champion direct mail and copywriting genius. Could I work at his $7,000-a-head Key West Seminar by the Sea?
A couple days later, the phone rang. Halbert didn’t laugh. Didn’t call me “white boy.” He invited me to work for him at the seminar.
Dissed by Ali, but working with Halbert. YESSS!
Key West was bliss … for a day.
On Monday morning, I met the other copywriters: John Carlton, Brad Antin, David Deutsch, Gene Dowdle, Loretta Duffy, Brad Peterson. All legends today.
I met some of the speakers: John Eger, Dan Kennedy, Ken Kerr, Phil Kratzer, Carl Galletti, Bill Myers, Ted Nicholas. More legends. I met Halbert. What could be more exciting?
On Monday, Halbert and others shared their genius. It was wonderful. On Tuesday came the hotseats.
Whoops! Back to “white boy!”
Halbert called an attendee to the front with himself, and 3 copywriters. The guest described his business. The panel asked questions. Then Halbert shouted words that shocked me to instant dread:
“COPYWRITERS! HEADLINES! HEADLINES! HEADLINES, COPYWRITERS! HEADLINES!”
Halbert wanted one headline after another, pop pop pop pop pop pop. He wanted quality. He wanted quantity.
In time (and I mean weeks or months later), I understood the purpose: the more viewpoints and ideas, the better chance to find many outstanding copy-points for the sales letter. I now accept this as absolute truth, and you should, too.
But not then. My routine? Sit at my word processor with a cup of coffee, think leisurely, catch a good idea now and then.
The other copywriters screamed out headlines. I sucked my thumb.
Tuesday was awful. Wednesday & Thursday weren’t much better. By Friday, I began to get it … but the week was over.
When I left, I vowed I would never, ever, EVER again be so embarrassed.
Back home. To the library. I got years of Readers Digest, Forbes, Cosmopolitan, and other magazines on microfilm. I wrote down EVERY headline … over 1,500 of them.
The people who wrote these heads earn millions to attract attention, to sell magazines. They’re the best. So why not leverage that brainpower? So I created a file of all the headlines I culled from my sources, and I titled that file Shortheads.
I’ve been using ShortHeads for over 15 years now. It’s made me a lot of money. I used it to come up with (among others) the most-recognized title in the history of network marketing: “Dead Doctors Don’t Lie!”. Your headline is the most important part of any ad or article. If your head doesn’t capture and hold attention, the rest of your writing is wasted. I strongly encourage you to compile your own “headline file” that you can draw from anytime you head a good headline.
