Freshers Fair-ly Keen

As promised here are the exciting snaps from Freshers' Fair. The idea behind having a stall at the fair was to promote our department amongst both new and returning students. We also wanted to recruit some new blood so that this year we can have a bigger team to call upon if we need help with events and campaigns. The fair was also an opportunity to network with other departments, societies and students.

I arrived at the Fair at around 9.30am to set the stall up. I was told I was on table 155 which was on the raised platform of the Metceno. After half an hour printing off some posters to make the stall visually interesting, I meandered my way through all the other stalls, by the time I had reached our plot I had enough free pens to supply an infinite amount of monkeys, enough free lollipops to de-tooth Janice Street Porter and enough two for one offers to satisfy Victor Meldrew. Alarm bells began to ring in my head as I realised I had nothing free to give the freebie hungry masses, I rooted through my bag and found a half eaten egg Mcmuffin, a toothbrush and a copy of the student newspaper "Leeds On". I decided to finish the calorie laden breakfast bun, brush my teeth and indulge in some light frophy reading. I would rely on my charm and my Lord Kitchener posters to draw in a crowd.

Although the pitch was not the best, there was a steady flow of students and many that were caught by my handy work with Microsoft WordArt. The sign read "Are you Studying Public Relations? Marketing? Events Management?" as although we are formally a P.R unit, it would be nice to involve a broader spectrum of the business courses in the department. Many students were interested in what we had achieved last year so I showed them the work I had put together in my online portfolio.

The Fair didn't really get going until the afternoon, so instead of just sitting on my backside reading the paper and updating my Facebook status with some witty prose I decided to have a chat to the stall next to me. The society on my left was called the "Apologetics Society" and the society on my right seemed to be the "Campaign against everything including having a shower society" and although many of their causes seemed worthy, the fact one of the lads was wearing a beret put me off slightly as i've never got on with freedom fighters much before. So instead I kicked up a convo with this guy.

Now although I do not agree with Carnell's beliefs that Charles Darwin was a fantasist and God made the world in seven work filled days, he was a very interesting guy to chat to, and if anyone is interested in voicing their opinion or belief on how the world was made or any other of the big questions, the Apologetic Society meets the last Friday of every month at the Civic Quarter room CQC515. I won't be buying a t-shirt as I am a follower of the work of Richard Dawkins and Carl Sagan, but I may well just pop along to the little monthly swaray for a healthy debate.

The day was a great success, I got to speak to lots of first year P.R and Marketing students about where I see the department going this year and how they can be apart of it. I also spoke to a few third years who seemed keen to get involved if they can spare the time. I also made contact with the Photography society who told me they would be more than happy to offer their services for future events and campaigns, as well as Jacob from MetAir the new radio show, who was very interested in joining forces with our department to make sure the voice of the Students Union is heard by the Leeds Met Students.

One slightly sore point from the Fair was the presence of an online Poker website who had a stall directly opposite ours. Just look how busy it was!

The rotund gentleman had the fresh faced tax dodgers eating out of his hand, with glamorous promises like "It cost's nothing to enter and you can win up to £25,000" he worked the floor like a slightly better looking John Mcriock. It made me quite uncomfortable to think some students may think their student loan and online poker make easy bedfellows .Who needs to join a society or department that may aid me in getting a first class degree when I can play poker online and get a first class gambling addiction? Don't be taken in by this portly fellow, instead why not sign up with this young gentleman.

Opportunity Knocks!

After a hectic morning emailing my tutor and P.R admin, I finally found out what time my tutorial was, 9.30am!!!! I don't use four exclamation marks because I feel this is too early, I do this because I received the information at 9.22am!!!! Luckily I live four minutes walk away from the Rose Bowl and it only takes me four minutes to get my self looking G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S enough to sit in a room full of P.R girls.

My tutor for the year is Lucy Laville which I am very happy about, not only is she the leader of the course and very passionate about students achieving great things but she is also a very nice lady. Lucy told us about some very exciting opportunities including an initiative set up by Leeds based P.R company Bell Pottinger to create a "student P.R consultancy". This will involve five students working for REAL clients under the watchful eye of the guys from Bell Pottinger. This opportunity is something that I am very keen to be part of, so will be working my socks off from now on, to ensure I am at least considered. Lucy also told us about a Sports P.R event being held at Headingley Stadium in mid November. The main attraction of the event is undoubtedly the head of communications of the Football Association, who will be speaking. This has been firmly lodged in my diary and I am looking forward to it already.

We had our usual introductory lecture and then it was off to pick up the feedback from last years assignments. For my portfolio I achieved a first which I was pleased about, although Rudiger did comment that my rationales would have to improve if I were to achieve the same grade in level two. Food for thought.

Tomorrow is the Fresher's Fair so I am currently making lovely posters and printing off coverage we gained last year to plaster all over our stall. I have also just read a very interesting interview with Joe Favourito. I love the part where he stresses the importance of "treating people like people" and not hiding behind emails. This month I plan to network a lot more, even if it is just with fellow students and staff members, I am starting to realise reputation is very important in this industry.

Tomorrow I will have some exciting pictures from Fresher's Fair and hopefully the calendar of events that we plan to work on.

Adios.

After a hectic morning emailing my tutor and P.R admin, I finally found out what time my tutorial was, 9.30am!!!! I don't use four exclamtion marks becuase I feel this is too early, I do this because I recieved the information at 9.22am!!!! Luckily I live four minutes walk away from the Rose Bowl and only take four minutes to get my self looking G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S enough to sit in a room full of P.R girls.

My tutor for the year is Lucy Laville which I am very happy about, not only is she the leader of the course and very passionate about students achivieing great things but she is also a very nice lady. Lucy told us about some very exciting opportunities including an initative set up bu Leeds based P.R company Bell Pottinger to create a "student P.R consultancy". This will involve five students working for REAL clients under the watchful eye of the guys from Bell Pottinger. This opportunity is something that I am very keen to be part of, so will be working my socks off from now on, to ensure I am at least considered. Lucy also told us about a Sports P.R event being held at Headingley Stadium in mid November. The main attraction of the event is undoubtedly the head of communications of the Football Association, who will be speaking. This has been firmly lodged in my diary and I am looking forward to it already.

We had our usual introductory lecture and then it was off to pick up the feedback from last years assignments. For my portfolio I achieved a first which I was pleased about, although Rudiger did comment that my rationales would have to improve if I were to achieve the same grade in level two. Food for thought.

Tomorrow is the Freshers Fair so I am currently making lovely posters and printing off coverage we gained last year to plaster all over our stall. I have also just read a very interesting interview with Joe Favourito. I love the part where he stresses the importance of "treating people like people" and not hiding behind emails. This month I plan to network a lot more, even if it is just with fellow students and staff members, I am starting to realise reputation is very important in this industry.

Tommorow I will have some exciting pictures from Freshers Fair and hopefully the calender of events that we plan to work on.

Adios.

Fresh Prince of P.R

With the Freshers Fair only two days away preparations are being put in place hurriedly by the P.R team so that our stall entice them keen young eyes. We are targeting new and old students who study Public Relations, Marketing and Events Management. We aim to build on the foundations we made last year and turn our department in to something special this year.I

have started to write anecdotal stories about my past and as we have nothing yet to cover I thought I would share another short story with you. This time I recall the key moments in my failed football career.


A fall from grace

“And the winner of this year’s player of the year is……..Adam Burns!!” announced Colin Suggett, the head of Ipswich Towns Football academy. I was honestly surprised as I had been playing most of the season at right back and not centre mid which I felt was my natural position. Even so my team mates seemed to agree with the ex Sunderland and Norwich player and as I walked up to collect my little golden mini me, I had a sense of pride in my belly that I had never felt before. As Mr.Suggett handed me the trophy he whispered “Keep your eye in Burnsy lad, and make sure you start eating your veg, you could do with growing a few inches” his thick Geordie accent reminded me of my hero Peter Beardsley, and as I posed for photos, tightly holding my proudest achievement to date, my dream of becoming a professional footballer seemed as tightly in my grasp as my trophy.

“Who’ve we got this week?” asked Ross in his broad Maccem accent as he put on his Nike astro trainers. “Inter Ya Mam” I replied. Oh how the mighty have fallen. Instead of running out to thousands of adoring fans at St. James’s Park and scoring a hat-rick at the Gallowgate End, I somehow find myself paying £9 a time to play teams called Multiple Scorgasm and Sporting Lesbians. Instead of rubbing shoulders with other graduates of the Ipswich Town academy system like Kieron Dyer, Titus Bramble and Darren Ambrose I find myself facing opposition who have clearly spent more time thinking about a funny team name than actually playing football.

The beginning of the end was probably that night when I experienced pride like never before, the comment Colin Suggett or should I say Mystic Meg made about my height was like a Nostradamus prophecy. When I returned for preseason training my team mates had suddenly been swallowed up my puberty and spat out looking like the BFG, whereas I looked like I had just got of the boat from Lilliput. I was smaller, slower and weaker than every player in the team and I new from the very first training session at the young age of fourteen that my days with the tractor boys were numbered.

It didn’t take long before I was sat on the bench, freezing my pre pubescent balls off, watching other lads becoming more accomplished players as they came up against the likes of Chelsea, Tottenham and West Ham. The final nail in my coffin came ironically after I scored my first goal of the season, a header in a 3-3 draw with Arsenal. My parents were taken into a room with my coach and told that their son was not developing fast enough, that he would not be able to make the step up to Y.T.S and that it would be unfair to drag the process out any further. I found out later in life that apparently my Dad fought my corner well, but my mum had to throw the towel in as he took too many devastating blows. The news hit me like a punch in the stomach, I felt winded and unable to breath. The drive back to Newmarket in my Dad’s Ford Granada was quite easily the most depressing forty five minutes of my young life. I knew it had hurt my dad as he didn’t even go to the Cherry Tree for killer pool, Super Sunday and a pint of Boddingtons smooth. I can now understand why my Dad felt this way as looking back it had been he who picked me up from school to take the ninety minute round trip, four times a week to Portman Road, and he who had kicked, headed and tackled every ball with me during my 8 year career with “George Burley’s Barmy Army”.

When we pulled in to our modest semi detached house on our sleepy Suffolk street, I turned to my Dad and told him I was sorry, “Never mind that! Gan and get the grow bag out the shed, we’ll have ya 6ft in ne time” he joked, in his familiar Geordie tone, whilst ruffling my hair and playfully kicking me in the direction of our weathered shed. My Dad’s optimism wasn’t shared by myself, but I laughed anyway and told him they’re plenty more clubs in the sea.

After brief spells at Norwich and Colchester which had also ended with my Dad going punch to punch with some old pro turned coach, It seemed I was never going to be good enough to make a living out of football. This was not a decision made voluntarily, it was more forced upon me. My career didn’t go completely Alf-Inge Haaland, as I once again tasted success at Portman Road, unfotunately this isn’t Roy of the Rovers and I was not picked from obscurity by new Town boss Joe Royal, instead I was represetning the county in the F.A County Youth Cup Final. We won a dramtic game 2-1 and at the function following the game I enjoyed champagne and salmon whilst the usual boring speeches took place thanking the refs and the county officials. There was one last tropy to give out however and that was for the County Player of theYear, the tropy would be presented by David Sheepshanks and yes you guessed it, now head scout, Colin Sugget. There were whispers that I had done enough to win the award, and when Mr.Sheepshanks said my name, I made the long walk through the tables of people I had never seen before with the same smile I was wearing when I was fourteen. Colin Suggett handed me the trophy and shook my hand, “Well done son” he said. I thanked him and the club for the hospitailty and told him inperticular the vegatables were some of the finest I had ever eaten, he replied with a puzzled “thankyou, I’ll have to tell the chef”. I wasn’t dissapointed that he hadn’t remembered me, it had after all been nearly five years, he probably thought I went on to become a Jockey like my dad or a Borrower like my mum. I was happy that I had in a way had the last laugh, of course the last laugh would have been sweeter if it was the World Cup I was lifting as captain of England, but like I said beofre this is’nt Roy of the Rovers.

Heres the amzing goal that won us the final!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PhqklGmBCwk

So long summer

"Hello, Good evening and Welcome"

The long cold and drizzly summer of 2009 is officially over. It's back to life in the P.R world and 2009/2010 looks like an exciting academic year for the Leeds Met Students Union Public Relation Department.

We have all spent the summer globetrotting around the world, adding to our P.R experience and generally being young and frivolous. On the Friday the 25th of September we will be holding a stall at this year’s Freshers Fair to try and recruit some fresh blood to add to already talented team.

After my meeting with the big boss man Ben Mac, I will be able to add a calendar of events so that students can pick and choose which events they want to contribute to.

On another note here is an article written by yours truly for the Freshers addition of "Leeds On"

George Berkeley once famously pondered "If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?"

I thought about this philosophical riddle as I walked into my bedroom with a tray of hot soup and toast, and placed it on my girlfriends lap. My thoughts were this "If my swine flu infected girlfriend calls out for her pillows to be puffed, or for the channel to be switched over to Loose Women or for another Lemsip and no one is around to hear her, does she make a sound?" granted mine is slightly less poetic than George's, however I, unlike Georgey boy, know the answer to my riddle. The answer is simply, there is no conceivable situation in which I would ever be able to leave my girlfriends side as she battled against her feet becoming trotters, growing a corkscrew shaped penis and losing the ability to look upwards, even if I wanted to, the emotional leash round my young neck was fascinated far too tight. So of course the solution to my philosophical ponderment is that the whole idea is flawed because during my girlfriends many hours of need there is no way I was leaving the flat.

Now I am well aware of the dangers of the H1N1 virus and in no way am I talking candidly about the infection before thoroughly researching the subject. The BBC news reported in late August that the deaths relating to swine flu in England and Scotland stood at 40 and that all of these cases related to people with underlying medical problems. This is proof enough that the infection is still a massive problem for our country and with winter round the corner it seems the government is desperate to vaccinate the most at risk groups, pregnant women and children, with plans unveiled to vaccinate 13 million people in the first wave of injections. I think that’s about enough research. So the problem I have with the whole episode is that in my experience, as soon as anyone has a little sniffle, a tickly cough or the desire to eat from a trough they don't just jump on the pig flu bandwagon they request to drive the bloody thing. “Pig flu will kill 40 a day” shouted one tabloid rather sensationally and then suddenly work colleagues, football teammates and even my own girlfriend were struck down faster than Nick Griffin at a Lethal Bizzle gig. Now, I know most of them had no contact with a doctor, so unless the people who I work with in the Halifax call centre, or my mates who struggle with the Box pub quiz, or my girlfriend who failed to point out where Wales was on a map of the U.K, have all secretly got PHD's then surely their self diagnosis is nonsense. Coincidentally they do all read the Sun, strange.

After my girlfriend got through a pocket sized pack of Kleenex she decided it was time to call the flu hotline. The man on the other end of the phone began to read a script of questions to her, these were used to determine whether or not she was infected. "Are you currently having a fit?" asked the helpful gentleman, "No, but my boyfriend just threw one after I complained about the temperature of my coffee" she joked, obviously loss of sarcasm isn't a symptom. The flu inspector went on to ask more questions like "Can your chin touch your neck comfortably?" I stopped myself from asking which chin of my girlfriends he meant, as I thought this might inflame the situation and as my matador’s sword was not within reach in case I needed to tame a raging pig, I kept stum. With all her might she called on all the things she had learnt in G.C.S.E drama to continue the mobile examination, she played young women on deaths door extremely well, she was more convincing than the nanny in "the hand the rocks the cradle" and after putting down the phone nodded and told me my next task was to drive 4 miles and pick up the antidote, the magical Tamiflu.The man on the phone had told her because she had 3 of the 5 main symptoms, chances are she was one of the infected and because of this she had to be quarantined, she spoke like she was in a scene from the sequel of “28 weeks later”. “28 trotters later”.

Her symptoms included a sore throat, a cough and blocked ears. I don’t know what the hell blocked ears are because she could clearly hear what Ruth from Hollyoaks was babbling on about as she transformed some deserving souls house into an IKEA clad eyesore in 60 minutes. Needless to say I took my orders and returned with the ten capsules. Four capsules and two and half days later my girlfriend was conveniently well enough to enjoy her 23rd birthday. Celebrations included a saunter round Meadowhall, lunch at Yo Sushi!, where she stayed true to her piglet roots and had pork and quail egg yakatori and the evening culminated with a fine dining experience with her doting father. I thought this was quite an achievement for someone who was bedridden only 24 hours previous and that needed breakfast, lunch and dinner made for her in bed. Unfortunately for me loss of appetite was not a symptom.

I’m pretty sure that if swine flu had not been shoved down our throats like a hog roast sandwich with extra crackling that little sniffles and tickly coughs could have just been cleared up with a Lemsip and kick up the arse, which is how my dad used to cure my ailments and I turned out just fine.

I understand the need for prevention and that the government have a responsibility to protect the people of this great island, but if I see another Facebook status saying “bedridden and on Tamiflu” I’m going to do the unthinkable and delete my Facebook profile, imagine that, a world where I’m not inundated with inane drivel from people who I used to go to primary school with telling me about their latest pregnancy or which “Skins” cast member is the most shagable.I’m sure that I will come under much criticism from sufferers of the H1N1 virus and I’m sure many will call for my resignation and a public apology, well to them people I say you’ve got more chance of seeing..........I’ll let you finish that one.