In megalomaniacal fashion, Blake follows his hunch and refuses to give the coveted “Glengarry leads” to the pack. Instead, he hands them to the office manager, John, in an unmistakable show of pettiness. And so on and so on, the tirade goes.
Much can, and has been, extracted from far-famed scenes of this sort. From Used Cars to Boiler Room and beyond, lauded dramatizations of cutthroat deal-closing rarely speak to the top of the funnel or flywheel. As a result, the value of leads—whether Glengarrys or the coldest sort—is often overshadowed by efforts to exorcise the inner Zig Ziglar from introverted salesfolk.
In the feature-length film adaptation of David Mamet's Pulitzer Prize-winning play, Glengarry Glen Ross, Blake—brilliantly portrayed by a pre-shooting incident Alec Baldwin—unloads a ruthless monologue on a team of floundering salesmen, whereby he matter-of-factly asserts that they are weak: the lot of them. What is more, Blake adds expletive-laden insult to injury by withdrawing a stack of highly-sought leads as red index cards—neatly fashioned with a bow-tied string—from a metal briefcase. He exhibits the short pile to the flunkies and reveals that, “These are the new leads.” He then adds, “These are the Glengarry leads. To you, these are gold. You do not get these. Because to give them to you would be throwing them away.”
Sheesh.
Scroll to continue
In megalomaniacal fashion, Blake follows his hunch and refuses to give the coveted “Glengarry leads” to the pack. Instead, he hands them to the office manager, John, in an unmistakable show of pettiness. And so on and so on, the tirade goes.
Much can, and has been, extracted from far-famed scenes of this sort. From Used Cars to Boiler Room and beyond, lauded dramatizations of cutthroat deal-closing rarely speak to the top of the funnel or flywheel. As a result, the value of leads—whether Glengarrys or the coldest sort—is often overshadowed by efforts to exorcise the inner Zig Ziglar from introverted salesfolk.
In the feature-length film adaptation of David Mamet's Pulitzer Prize-winning play, Glengarry Glen Ross, Blake—brilliantly portrayed by a pre-shooting incident Alec Baldwin—unloads a ruthless monologue on a team of floundering salesmen, whereby he matter-of-factly asserts that they are weak: the lot of them. What is more, Blake adds expletive-laden insult to injury by withdrawing a stack of highly-sought leads as red index cards—neatly fashioned with a bow-tied string—from a metal briefcase. He exhibits the short pile to the flunkies and reveals that, “These are the new leads.” He then adds, “These are the Glengarry leads. To you, these are gold. You do not get these. Because to give them to you would be throwing them away.”
Sheesh.
Scroll to continue
In megalomaniacal fashion, Blake follows his hunch and refuses to give the coveted “Glengarry leads” to the pack. Instead, he hands them to the office manager, John, in an unmistakable show of pettiness. And so on and so on, the tirade goes.
Much can, and has been, extracted from far-famed scenes of this sort. From Used Cars to Boiler Room and beyond, lauded dramatizations of cutthroat deal-closing rarely speak to the top of the funnel or flywheel. As a result, the value of leads—whether Glengarrys or the coldest sort—is often overshadowed by efforts to exorcise the inner Zig Ziglar from introverted salesfolk.
In the feature-length film adaptation of David Mamet's Pulitzer Prize-winning play, Glengarry Glen Ross, Blake—brilliantly portrayed by a pre-shooting incident Alec Baldwin—unloads a ruthless monologue on a team of floundering salesmen, whereby he matter-of-factly asserts that they are weak: the lot of them. What is more, Blake adds expletive-laden insult to injury by withdrawing a stack of highly-sought leads as red index cards—neatly fashioned with a bow-tied string—from a metal briefcase. He exhibits the short pile to the flunkies and reveals that, “These are the new leads.” He then adds, “These are the Glengarry leads. To you, these are gold. You do not get these. Because to give them to you would be throwing them away.”
Sheesh.
Scroll to continue
In megalomaniacal fashion, Blake follows his hunch and refuses to give the coveted “Glengarry leads” to the pack. Instead, he hands them to the office manager, John, in an unmistakable show of pettiness. And so on and so on, the tirade goes.
Much can, and has been, extracted from far-famed scenes of this sort. From Used Cars to Boiler Room and beyond, lauded dramatizations of cutthroat deal-closing rarely speak to the top of the funnel or flywheel. As a result, the value of leads—whether Glengarrys or the coldest sort—is often overshadowed by efforts to exorcise the inner Zig Ziglar from introverted salesfolk.
In the feature-length film adaptation of David Mamet's Pulitzer Prize-winning play, Glengarry Glen Ross, Blake—brilliantly portrayed by a pre-shooting incident Alec Baldwin—unloads a ruthless monologue on a team of floundering salesmen, whereby he matter-of-factly asserts that they are weak: the lot of them. What is more, Blake adds expletive-laden insult to injury by withdrawing a stack of highly-sought leads as red index cards—neatly fashioned with a bow-tied string—from a metal briefcase. He exhibits the short pile to the flunkies and reveals that, “These are the new leads.” He then adds, “These are the Glengarry leads. To you, these are gold. You do not get these. Because to give them to you would be throwing them away.”
Sheesh.
In megalomaniacal fashion, Blake follows his hunch and refuses to give the coveted “Glengarry leads” to the pack. Instead, he hands them to the office manager, John, in an unmistakable show of pettiness. And so on and so on, the tirade goes.
Much can, and has been, extracted from far-famed scenes of this sort. From Used Cars to Boiler Room and beyond, lauded dramatizations of cutthroat deal-closing rarely speak to the top of the funnel or flywheel. As a result, the value of leads—whether Glengarrys or the coldest sort—is often overshadowed by efforts to exorcise the inner Zig Ziglar from introverted salesfolk.
In the feature-length film adaptation of David Mamet's Pulitzer Prize-winning play, Glengarry Glen Ross, Blake—brilliantly portrayed by a pre-shooting incident Alec Baldwin—unloads a ruthless monologue on a team of floundering salesmen, whereby he matter-of-factly asserts that they are weak: the lot of them. What is more, Blake adds expletive-laden insult to injury by withdrawing a stack of highly-sought leads as red index cards—neatly fashioned with a bow-tied string—from a metal briefcase. He exhibits the short pile to the flunkies and reveals that, “These are the new leads.” He then adds, “These are the Glengarry leads. To you, these are gold. You do not get these. Because to give them to you would be throwing them away.”
Sheesh.
leads are
for
By King Kenney
closers
closers
By King Kenney
closers
By King Kenney
closers
In megalomaniacal fashion, Blake follows his hunch and refuses to give the coveted “Glengarry leads” to the pack. Instead, he hands them to the office manager, John, in an unmistakable show of pettiness. And so on and so on, the tirade goes.
Much can, and has been, extracted from far-famed scenes of this sort. From Used Cars to Boiler Room and beyond, lauded dramatizations of cutthroat deal-closing rarely speak to the top of the funnel or flywheel. As a result, the value of leads—whether Glengarrys or the coldest sort—is often overshadowed by efforts to exorcise the inner Zig Ziglar from introverted salesfolk.
In the feature-length film adaptation of David Mamet's Pulitzer Prize-winning play, Glengarry Glen Ross, Blake—brilliantly portrayed by a pre-shooting incident Alec Baldwin—unloads a ruthless monologue on a team of floundering salesmen, whereby he matter-of-factly asserts that they are weak: the lot of them. What is more, Blake adds expletive-laden insult to injury by withdrawing a stack of highly-sought leads as red index cards—neatly fashioned with a bow-tied string—from a metal briefcase. He exhibits the short pile to the flunkies and reveals that, “These are the new leads.” He then adds, “These are the Glengarry leads. To you, these are gold. You do not get these. Because to give them to you would be throwing them away.”
Sheesh.
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King Kenney is a multi-hyphenate writer, VP of Marketing & Growth at Stax•ai, and marketing professor at the University of Virginia.