It was a typically chaotic Tuesday afternoon at LaGuardia Airport. My flight to Tampa was delayed 3 hours, the gate area was packed, and I was scrolling through New York Post headlines to pass the time when I spotted a familiar figure dragging a navy suitcase toward the coffee kiosk: John Sterling.
For 36 seasons, Sterling’s booming voice defined New York Yankees baseball for millions of fans. I’d written about him for the New York Post dozens of times, but we’d never spoken one-on-one. I took a deep breath, walked over, and introduced myself.
What I expected to be a 5-minute polite chat turned into a 45-minute conversation that completely shifted how I think about work, passion, and longevity. Here’s everything I learned from that unexpected airport conversation with John Sterling.
The Setup: A Delayed Flight, A Lucky Break
Sterling was heading to Tampa for spring training, same as me. He ordered a black coffee, no sugar, and waved off a fan who asked for a photo, joking that he "had to save his smile for the broadcast booth."
He didn’t carry the larger-than-life persona you hear on the radio. His voice was softer, quieter, but still unmistakably energetic when he talked about baseball.
5 Lessons I Took From Our Chat
1. Consistency Beats Flash Every Time
Sterling never tried to reinvent the wheel. For 36 years, he opened every broadcast with the same upbeat intro, called games with the same straightforward style, and never chased viral trends.
"People tune in for what they know," he told me. "If you change who you are every time the wind blows, they’ll stop coming back. Do one thing well, every single day."
2. Lean Into Your Quirks
You either love or hate Sterling’s iconic "It is high, it is far, it is gone!" home run call. For decades, critics called it corny, over-the-top, even annoying. Sterling didn’t care.
"My quirk is my brand," he said. "If I tried to sound like every other boring broadcaster, no one would remember me. Own what makes you different."
3. Preparation Is Non-Negotiable
Even at 85 years old, Sterling watched every single Yankees game, took pages of notes on player stats, and memorized lineup changes before every broadcast.
"Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity," he quoted. "You can’t wing a 3-hour broadcast and expect to do a good job. Ever."
4. Criticism Can’t Drown Out Your Purpose
Sterling faced relentless backlash from Yankees fans for being too cheerful during losses, too loud during wins, and too "old school" for modern baseball.
He shrugged when I asked about it. "I’m not broadcasting for the critics. I’m broadcasting for the 12-year-old kid listening in his bedroom, the fan at the stadium who can’t see the field. That’s who matters."
5. Small Interactions Have Big Impact
The story that stuck with me most: A fan approached Sterling 20 years after a 1998 playoff game, where Sterling’s call of a walk-off home run helped the fan cope with his father’s recent death.
"I had no idea that one call meant that much to someone," Sterling said, tearing up slightly. "That’s why we do this. Not for the fame, for the little moments that matter to other people."
Why This Matters For Everyone, Not Just Sports Fans
You don’t have to love baseball to take something from Sterling’s words. His lessons apply to any job, any passion, any goal:
- Show up consistently, even when you don’t feel like it.
- Stop trying to be someone you’re not.
- Prepare like your reputation depends on it (because it does).
- Ignore the noise from people who don’t matter.
- Remember that your work impacts people in ways you’ll never see.
Final Takeaway
My flight ended up being delayed another hour, but I didn’t mind. I walked onto the plane with a notebook full of notes, a fresh perspective, and a new respect for a New York icon.
That airport conversation with John Sterling wasn’t just a story for the New York Post. It was a masterclass in how to build a career, and a life, that actually means something.
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