Negotiating with the
New York Jets
Discovering the Power of Tension
Every kid who's ever kicked a football in their backyard has imagined it: running onto an NFL field, lights blazing, everything on the line. That was my dream too. But the story that mattered most didn't happen under stadium lights. It happened on a phone call—with the general manager of the New York Jets—where tension forced me to choose between instant relief and something far more valuable.
I was negotiating for an opportunity, but what I discovered in the process was something different, something that would shape everything that came after: a way of understanding tension that creates opportunities far beyond football.
From Dream to Dead End
On paper, my path looked promising: All-American (Honorable Mention), First-Team All-East at Syracuse, a strong senior season. But the year I graduated, the NFL changed its rules. Training-camp rosters shrank from roughly 130 players to just 80. That one decision turned what should have been a wide-open free-agent market into a brick wall. Teams weren't adding long-shot rookies; they were cutting veterans to get under the new limit.
I had an agent. For a while, he called teams and sounded optimistic. Then the calls slowed. The updates got more infrequent, details less promising. Enthusiasm faded as the market reality set in: no one was beating down the door for an undrafted kicker in a league suddenly obsessed with trimming rosters.
So I did what many people do when a dream stalls: I found something practical. Enterprise Rent-A-Car had a reputation for taking former athletes and turning them into business leaders. I joined their management training program, threw myself into the work, and within nine months I had an offer to run my own branch. At Enterprise, things were going well.
But every morning before work I was still running wind sprints. At lunch I traded dress shoes for cleats and trained on a local football field. Late at night I was closing down the gym, asking myself, "Is there anyone in America who outworked me today?" I simply wasn't ready to give up on football.
Then I made two decisions that changed everything:
- I quit Enterprise.
- I fired my agent and became my own.
Those decisions didn't feel bold at the time. They felt necessary. If the market was stacked against me, I at least wanted to lose on my own terms.
Becoming My Own Agent
With no job and no representation, I started calling teams myself. It was an unorthodox move—rookie kickers weren't supposed to negotiate with NFL front offices directly. It was uncommon to say the least, but desperation has a way of revealing how much initiative you're really willing to take.
Despite rookie mistakes, doors started to crack open. I secured tryouts with the New York Jets, the Dallas Cowboys, and the San Francisco 49ers.
The Jets workout came first. Their general manager, Dick Steinberg, had already seen me once—he'd made a special trip to Syracuse a year earlier to work me out personally. Back then, the new roster rules shut the door. Now, seeing him watching my tryout on the Jets' practice field told me his interest was real.
Dallas was next: a Saturday session at Texas Stadium, followed by an invitation to return on Monday to their Valley Ranch facility. I spent Sunday at my uncle's house in Garland, Texas, trying not to obsess over what might happen next.
Then the phone rang.
The Call
"Kevin, we don't want you to work out with the Cowboys again."
— Dick Steinberg, GM of the New York Jets
My heart sank, then stopped, then raced.
"We want you to sign with the New York Jets."
Everything in me wanted to shout "Yes!" right there. This was the moment I'd rehearsed in my mind since I was a kid. Every early-morning sprint, every lonely kicking session, every late-night workout pointed to this call. The dream was finally real, and the last thing I wanted to do was risk losing it.
This is exactly what tension feels like in negotiation:
- A surge of adrenaline
- A flood of emotion
- A powerful urge to grab the first lifeline and hold on
Instead, something in me hesitated. Maybe it was all those hours of preparation. Maybe it was the months of representing myself. Whatever the reason, I took a breath and asked a question that changed the trajectory of the conversation:
"Thank you, Mr. Steinberg. I really appreciate it… Now can you tell me what you're offering?"
Silence.
Then he repeated my question slowly, almost amused: "What are we offering?"
What followed was the verbal equivalent of a very polite reality check. He reminded me that teams weren't exactly fighting over rookie free-agent kickers that year. Translation: You're lucky to have this opportunity—don't push it.
He was right. I was a long shot in a tight market. But by asking that question, I'd done something crucial: I had not let the tension make the decision for me.
The First Negotiation
Mr. Steinberg laid out the offer:
- Rock-bottom salary
- League-minimum signing bonus
- A couple of incentives that would be hard to reach
Objectively, it was what you'd expect for a fringe player with no leverage. Subjectively, it was my dream—and it was being priced like a commodity.
I had a choice:
Take the deal instantly and relieve the tension
Stay in the tension long enough to see if there was any room to design something better
"Thank you, Mr. Steinberg. I appreciate the offer, but I'd like to think about it."
Those words were harder to say than any workout I'd done. I was asking one of the most respected executives in the NFL to wait on my answer—to hold my childhood dream in suspense.
"What exactly do you need to think about?" he asked, more curious than annoyed.
I explained that, representing myself, I wanted to make a few calls and be sure I understood what I was agreeing to. He could have easily said, "Take it or leave it." Instead, he gave me until the next morning.
The call ended. The tension didn't.
🌙The Night of Doubt
After I hung up, I started calling people I trusted.
My dad, who reminded me what actually mattered. Other players, who shared their experiences. John Mackey, former head of the NFL Players Association, who helped me understand the business realities behind the numbers.
With each conversation, I gained a little more clarity:
- •What the offer actually meant
- •Where there might be room to move
- •What I needed to ask for—not out of greed, but out of respect for what I could bring
Then the house went quiet, and the doubt got loud. I lay awake replaying the call:
Had I just talked myself out of the NFL?
Would the offer still be there in the morning?
Was I about to become the cautionary tale of the rookie who got too clever?
This is another face of tension in negotiation: not just the heat of the moment, but the echo afterwards—doubt, second-guessing, fear of loss.
By morning, I hadn't magically become fearless. I was still nervous. But I was clearer.
The Second Call – And the Breakthrough
Just after sunrise, I called Mr. Steinberg back. He answered on the first ring.
I thanked him again and walked him through a few specific points I wanted to discuss—compensation details, incentive structure, pieces that could better align the deal with what I believed I could deliver.
For the next fifteen minutes, we had a real negotiation:
- I made proposals
- He considered and countered
- On some points he pushed back
- On others he agreed
By the end, we had improved the terms in ways that mattered to me—without crossing the line into unreasonable demands.
But the biggest shift wasn't in the numbers. It was in the relationship.
As we wrapped up, his tone changed.
"Kevin, the way you handled yourself here really impressed me. I don't know if your football career will last six months or ten years, but I do know this: you'll have a job here with the Jets when you're done—if you want one."
— Dick Steinberg
In that moment, the nature of the negotiation snapped into focus:
- I had not only earned a contract
- I had earned respect
- I had sparked an important relationship
- I had opened a door to future opportunity that had nothing to do with field goals
What looked like a simple, high-pressure "take it or leave it" decision had become something else: a moment where staying in tension created more value than escaping it ever could have.
What This Story Really Teaches
Three foundational lessons that form the basis of Breakthrough Negotiating
Tension is not the enemy
The urge to say 'yes' immediately was strong. But the moment I paused, asked questions, and tolerated the discomfort, new possibilities appeared—better terms, a stronger relationship, and a future offer that went beyond football.
Preparation turns fear into usable information
Those calls to my dad, other players, and John Mackey didn't eliminate anxiety. They gave me facts and perspective, so my 'yes' or 'no' would be grounded, not panicked. Fear is natural; being governed by fear is optional.
How you negotiate becomes part of your identity
Mr. Steinberg wasn't just reacting to counterproposals. He was responding to how I handled tension: respectful, prepared, clear about needs, friendly but willing to walk away. That behavior became part of how he saw me.
From One Contract to a Way of Working
At the time, I didn't have words for any of this. I only knew that something important had happened when I chose not to rush through tension.
This book exists because, in the years that followed, I started seeing that same pattern everywhere: in business deals, mergers, internal alignment meetings, budget fights, strategic partnerships, and everyday conversations. Again and again, the biggest missed opportunities weren't about a lack of tactics. They were about how people responded when the pressure spiked.
What began as a single NFL negotiation became the foundation for a systematic approach:
- How to understand your body's response to tension and turn it into a window of opportunity instead of a trap
- How to build power through choice, so you can negotiate without desperation
- How to uncover Only-Factors that make you uniquely valuable
- How to use NIFTY—No, What If, Then Yes—to move from 'no way' to 'this actually works'
- How to aim your Ask, define what you're willing to Ink, and know your real Minimum
When you learn to stay present in moments of highest tension—and use them as design material—you can create value that others never even see.
Your Turn: Application Exercise
Action Item
Before moving to the next chapter, identify one upcoming negotiation where you commit to staying in the tension long enough to explore possibilities—even when your instinct says to resolve it quickly.
Chapter Summary
In the next chapter, we'll look beneath the surface of those moments: what tension does to your nervous system, why most people let it run the negotiation, and how you can train yourself to respond differently—so that when the next "Jets call" comes in your life, you're ready to make it count.