
Now in my fifth decade creating learning experiences for creative professionals, I think it is acceptable for me to think about what type of experiences I might want to create for myself. In other words, what does my personal bucket list look like for the Presentation Summit, now in its 24th season? That’s easy. It has one item on it.
Get Billie Jean King.
Ask, convince, incent, cajole, and maybe beg her to join us as a guest for one of the 20-minute conversations that have replaced traditional keynotes at our virtual conference.
She and I knew one another from my days at Inside Tennis magazine, and while it probably did not register much with her, I will never forget the first day that we met. It was here in the SF Bay Area, at the delightfully named Snoopy Cup, a 1983 homage to Charles Schulz, creator of the Peanuts cartoon strip, long-time tennis enthusiast, and good friend to Billie Jean. I was just opening the first chapter of my journalism career, while she was writing the final pages of her extraordinary playing career, so I knew how precious this opportunity was. I practically turned the press conference into a private interview, peppering her with questions about the match she just played, her career in general, her place in tennis, and seemingly the meaning of life.
And somewhere in all of her musings, she saw fit to utter four words that have stuck with me ever since: “Pressure,” she said, leaning forward and pausing just long enough for us all to lean in as well, “is a privilege.”
It was probably not the first time she said it, and it certainly wasn’t the last, given that, 27 years later, she authored a best-selling book with that as its title. And as a tournament-level athlete, I had my own relationship with risk, pressure, and the fleeting mysteries of performing to one’s potential. But it was groundbreaking and literally life-changing when Billie Jean said it the way that she did, and it has become a north star for the work that I do with my clients and conference patrons, as you can see in this short clip:
We have been fortunate to have attracted incredibly talented guests to our conference, especially in the virtual era with the obstacles of travel and lodging removed. A virtual visit from Ms. King would forever sit at the top of that fine list, so consider this my official overture to her.
Why might she want to do this? It is always my hope that an appearance at the conference becomes a win-win experience in which the guest benefits as the audience does. In fact, many of our guests appear gratis with the opportunity to connect with our community being sufficient payoff. That will most certainly not be the case here, but perhaps she will find time in her schedule for us anyway, because…
- Opportunity to mentor: The presentation space includes many emerging communication leaders—especially young women—who are shaping their careers and leadership identities. As they did for me, her words could be inspiring beyond measure.
- High synergy: Presenting and elite sport are both about preparation, performance under pressure, resilience, and connecting with audiences. These are themes she has deeply lived and our people deeply appreciate.
- Receptive audience: Our community is made up of thoughtful communicators who value equity, inclusion, curiosity, and diverse perspectives. They honor voices that have shaped culture and paved roads for others, and would welcome her experience and her passion with true respect.
- I come from her world: Would it matter that I have a tennis background, cut my professional teeth with the game, was a respected (I think, I hope) member of the community, and still play zealously to this day? Who knows, but I’ll play every card I might have.
My invitation to her is for a 20-minute conversation—like a podcast appearance before a live audience. It would not have to involve any prep work whatsoever, and could take place any time of day on Sep 21, 22, or 23. While our guest spots are typically first thing in the morning, I will mold the schedule to fit any window she might be able to give us.
So there it is: a public overture to my hero of heroes to spend 20 minutes with a community of professionals, and their host, who would be incredibly grateful for the opportunity.
P.S. At the conclusion of that post-match press conference in 1983, upon my introducing myself to her, she responded, “You ask good questions.” (Of course, I remember it as if it were yesterday.) I promise that, if given the opportunity, I will ask good questions again.

