7Rise of the Pro-Am
“Hi, Jazz,” I said as I hit the top floor in our San Francisco location. I had met Jazz Tigan the previous month and had seen him just a week earlier working on a project.
Then I noticed he was in a leg cast. “Wow, what happened? How are you doing?”
“Well, Mark . . . actually . . . not so good. I had car problems on Monday, so I pulled out the bike yesterday to get here—and got hit by a car and broke my leg.”
“Oh, no. That’s a tough way to start any week!”
“Now I have to take the subway,” he continued. “It stops just a couple of blocks away but, ouch, my arms are really sore from using these crutches.” He paused. “But, hey, let me tell you about my project!”
Right in front of my eyes, Jazz’s demeanor completely transformed. ...