The Worst Job in the Room

“If I die out there, everyone is going to blame you,” my client said.

Let me back up.

About 10 or 15 years ago, I was working on an internal launch presentation for a large program rollout. The kind with all the bells and whistles. Scripted transitions. Walk-up music. Produced video segments. Lights, sound — the whole nine yards.

I’d been partnered with an executive named Neil from day one. We spent weeks shaping the flow, the messaging, and the story we wanted the room to walk away with.

Launch day arrives.

Neil is the emcee. Calm. Prepared. Rock solid.

I’m backstage with him, already signaling the sound booth to cue his walk-up music. I tap him on the shoulder. Time to go.

He steps toward the stage.

One foot up.

And then he freezes.

My brain goes into overdrive.

Did I miss something in prep?

Is this stage fright finally showing up?

Did I misread him?

None of it feels right. Neil is a pro. Confident. Seasoned. The music is fading. He needs to keep moving.

Instead, he turns around and walks back toward me.

He puts his hand over his now-hot mic and says:

“Hunter… there are about 400 people out there, and you’ve got the worst job of any of them.”

Not what I expected.

“Use more words,” I said. “But please do it fast.”

He smiled.

“One of two things is about to happen. Either I’m going to walk out there and absolutely knock it out of the park, and everyone in that room is going to think about what a great job I did.

Or… I die out there and everyone is going to blame you.”

I thought about that for exactly one second.

“True enough.”

He laughed, turned, walked on stage — and knocked it out of the park.

That moment has stuck with me all these years later, though maybe not in the way Neil intended.

The best work hides the effort.

When it doesn’t, the spotlight swings around. And that’s how it should be. That’s the gig.

It’s also why choosing who you work with matters so much.

I want to work with people who understand the risk.

Who respect the craft.

Who know that story isn’t decoration — it’s infrastructure.

For most of my career, my job hasn’t been to tell my story. It’s been to help other people tell theirs. To help leaders, teams, and organizations give their ideas the best possible shot at landing, resonating, and becoming real.

Because sometimes, having the worst job in the room means you’re helping the most important things shine.

That’s what keeps me coming back.

And for the record, I love my job.