APSE president Perryn Keys gave a speech upon taking office during the awards banquet at the annual APSE Summer Conference on Saturday night, July 18, 2026, in Arlington, Virginia. Here’s his speech in its entirety.
Well, well, well.
Y’all messed up.
In all seriousness, standing here and coming into the role of APSE president is just absolutely, positively a dream come true, as they say. I simply cannot believe I’m here in this spot.
I think anyone who finds themselves in the role of APSE president has to reflect on the people who founded this organization, the titans who have held this office and made APSE what it’s become. And I’m sure that Paul (Barrett) and all the other past presidents had this same feeling. What an honor and what a responsibility this is.
We heard Mr. George Solomon yesterday when he accepted the Jack Berninger Award, and he noted, as he always does, he ran for APSE office 10 times and didn’t win. TEN TIMES. This is THE George Solomon. I was first asked a few years in a row if I had any interest in running for office, and I figured I didn’t have time to do it; I wasn’t ready; I wasn’t worthy; I wouldn’t win. I ran for the first time and got it. George ran 10 times and didn’t win.
That says two things to me: 1) Something we already knew, that Mr. Solomon had a great eye for talent, and 2) APSE voters? Y’all don’t have an eye for shit.
Thank you to everyone up here in leadership – especially to Paul, who did a dynamite job in the lead chair this year, and very much for all the ways he shepherded me along. I hope to do the same for Erik (Hall) and Ms. Maria (McIlwain) and Ms. Lauren (Jennings) and whoever else comes along. And to (executive director) Bill Eichenberger. For APSE to be gaining membership in this day and age, I think that says it all.
To John (Bednarowski), in his first year as conference coordinator — he scouted out this place in Arlington and put on this show.
We’ll be in Denver next June – and scheduling this one in July means I’ll only be in office for 11 months. If you think I’m upset about having been shorted, the answer is … absolutely not. The greatest job title in APSE is “past president,” so I’m just getting there faster.
I have a lot I want to say. I was scared to death over this speech, because for a long time I had nothing, and then I just vomited words endlessly, so this was a moment of revenge for all the reporters out there. Amie (Just) cut this way down, so thank you to her — she spared all of us a lot of heartache.
But I want to start by asking you a question, and hopefully by the time I’m done, it’ll come into focus as to why.
I want to ask you this, And I want you to ask yourself this. And it’s a hard question.
If you knew you only had 14 days left … what would you do?
Would you scramble? Try to take that dream vacation you never got around to taking? Would you heal some relationships that got roughed up and scarred over, by life, by telling those people you loved them?
I’m guessing a lot of us would. If you knew you only had 14 days, that’d sound pretty scary, and it would have a way of accelerating that bucket list.
We all think we’ve got a lot of time. The fact of the matter is, we don’t know.
I bring up 14 days for a specific reason.
About 3½ years ago, I was texting with my oldest brother, Kevin. I was running a marathon the next morning and he wished me good luck.
So I meant to tell him the next day how I’d done. But I got busy with my girls and then with work, and you know how these things go. That was rare at the time, for us to go that long without talking.
Fourteen days later, I got a call from my mom. She had to tell me that my brother’s friend had found Kevin alone in his apartment, out cold on the couch, dead at 52 years old.
Turned out it was a heart attack.
If my brother were still here, he’d be the first to tell you he was an alcoholic and an addict for almost 30 years. You never know for sure if an addict/alcoholic is 100% clean, but what I can tell you is that his autopsy was clean, and that for the last four or five years of his life, he was PRESENT. He was always a tortured soul, but at the end, he was THERE. He texted me all the time; he took care of my mom and dad; he wanted to know how my daughters were; and he would say over and over that he didn’t want to see them make the same mistakes.
We’ve all suffered loss of some sort.
At the summer conference last year, many of us met Wes Huett of the Peoria Star Journal. He prepared his contest entries this winter, and between that time and contest judging itself, we lost him.
We’ve lost Howard (Fendrich of The Associated Press). Ms. Rosanna and Jordan, I had not planned on this as part of my speech, but it occurred to me while I was up here on the dais: One of my daughters is named after Jackie Robinson, and it’s because of the quote that’s on his headstone: “A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives.” Well, everyone in this room knew Howard’s name and knows his work. And he had an impact on this industry, so if what Jackie said is true, then Howard lived an important life, and I want y’all to know that.
The bottom line is, we all think we have time, but we don’t know. We are only guaranteed today. We all forget that, and I’m every bit as guilty of that as the next person.
I’m hopeful that over the next 11 months, I’m going to try to remember how important each day is, and to try to make the most of it.
Every once in a while, Bear Bryant would read this prayer to his team, and I find it powerful, so I will quote:
“This is the beginning of a new day. God has given me this day to use as I will. I can waste it or use it for good. What I do today is very important because I am exchanging a day of my life for it. When tomorrow comes, this day will be gone forever, leaving something in its place I have traded for it. I want it to be gain, not loss … good, not evil … success, not failure … in order that I shall not forget the price I paid for it.”
So he was grateful for each day. Grateful for having responsibility. I’m trying to do the same — being grateful to be in position to lead people here in APSE, at The Buffalo News and for having been the sports editor in the place where I grew up.
My brother was grateful for what he had at the end of his life. And I should’ve learned, but at that time, I really didn’t. I was stressed out all the time, pissed off all the time, and overworked? Well, that hasn’t change, because that never changes in this business.
I lucked out. Somewhere along the line, I remembered how lucky I’ve been in life, how blessed I’ve been, and if I’ve got any worthwhile advice, I’d encourage anyone here: If you find yourself in a bad spot, take a moment to remind yourself of the things you should be grateful for. It will make a difference.
I was born in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada, and adopted at five days old —- that’s how I have Canadian blood and dual citizenship. The Keys family is American who lived in Canada for 10 years, and they actually kind of smuggled me across the border until they could get me naturalized. That’s a true story.
Because of that, I’ve felt this through-line in my life. Maybe I’m good enough, but with my upbringing, and after living in nine states amd provinces, I was simultaneously from everywhere and nowhere, and I felt like maybe I don’t quite fit.
It was here at APSE where I found my people — some people who spoke the same language and maybe felt the same way. We’re damn good at what we do, and we know that. But maybe the rest of the world doesn’t know it or understand it.
So if you’re in this room and you’re doubting yourself, I can assure you, you’re not alone. Keep going, and do what you feel you’re called to do.
Prince, my favorite musician of all time, felt he was put on this earth to make music, and didn’t he do it. When he died, his estate found an estimated 4,000 to 8,000 unreleased songs. That’s called getting the most out of your days. We were put on this earth to get the most out of what we do best, and he did it.
I’m now grateful for the journey I wound up going on. It was no one else’s but mine.
The life experience I’m most proud of is that I’m an alumnus of McKinley Sr. High School in Baton Rouge, La. — not because I did well there; I was a terrible student. But it’s a place of historical significance — the first public high school for Black students in Louisiana. Our alumni include Eddie Robinson, H. Rap Brown, Don Chaney, Keith Smart, Lil Boosie and Kevin Gates.
Did I, a privileged, scrawny white dude, fit there? Not exactly. But I’m telling you, and we’ve all said this, there was something so extraordinarily special about that experience, and I carry 800 E. McKinley Street with me wherever I go.
I bring this up because I did not take the fast track to get here. I majored in advertising and political science, but I read that advertising had the highest rate of alcoholism and suicide of any profession while paying the least. So naturally I said the hell with that; let me go into the profession where the real money is, where everyone is super-well-adjusted, the work-life balance is awesome.
So, I bet on myself. First, as an unpaid intern, and then slowly climbing the ladder. It really took a lot longer than I thought it might to get somewhere in this field where I felt like I was on my way. There was a lot of doubt.
So to all of you, if you’re not where you think you should be, don’t worry about that right now. Worry about today, because tomorrow’s not guaranteed. Do the absolute best you can do, TODAY, and be grateful for it — even when it feels like this industry is beating you down. If we are truly grateful for our lives, we must be grateful for all of it, and I am so grateful for those who’ve helped me reach this microphone.
I’m grateful for my higher power. My parents and two brothers. The incomparable Steve Trosky, our deputy sports editor in Buffalo. The people who were my own mentors and who believed in me, no one more important than Michael Peters, who taught me the value of a good editor and taught me the importance of thinking BIG. Butch Muir, who hired me to come back home to Baton Rouge. My predecessor, Joe Schiefelbein. Everyone who has ever worked for or with me. So many people worked incredibly hard. I don’t know why that is, but that’s a debt I can’t repay.
So, to me, they all tried to do the absolute best they could do, today. And again, worry about tomorrow, tomorrow. Because we aren’t guaranteed tomorrow, much less 14 days from now.
And while we aren’t guaranteed tomorrow, I’m sure as hell going to plan for it these next 11 months.
Several past presidents have advised me that as you go down the road, you’ll figure out what your priorities are, and I believe that. But I do have some things that I’m generally thinking about.
For one, connection. The connection in APSE is so unique, so different, so special, so unlike that of any other organization I’ve ever been a part of. My first APSE event was contest judging in 2014 and I just really felt accepted. These are my people. My boss in Buffalo, Ms. Margaret Kenny — she and Ms. Lisa (Wilson) go back a long way; they both worked together at The Buffalo News — Ms. Margaret calls APSE a cult!
I told that to Ms. Lisa, and I asked her: “Should I kick her ass?” Ms. Lisa said, “Yeah; you should kick it twice!”
But the connection and the camaraderie is special. And I mean that, and I think that’s why so many people in this organization are so passionate about it. We know why we come here. But I think something that’s really undervalued is that yes, in the contest, we want to beat each other, but the rest of the time, we really are there for each other. That’s the way I felt going in. And I feel that way more now. I’d love to figure out a way to nurture that among our members, and to maybe use that as a recruiting tool for potential new members.
For two, marketing. Paul Barrett and I were on a couple calls this year with Ms. Billie Jean King and her camp to plan for the Billie Jean King contest. She’s still a ball of fire at 82. She’s hands-on with her award; she wants it to grow.
She said something that hit me: “It’s all about marketing.” We believe in APSE; we believe in this product. But how do we do a better job of marketing ourselves? How do we market and sell this product we believe in? We’re all part-time. We all have other jobs. I don’t have all the answers. But we’ve got a lot of smart people in this room. I bet we can figure out better ways to market APSE and find a bigger audience.
The rest of it, we’ll figure out together. And I say “we,” because it’s my opinion that no presidential term should really be about the president.
It’s not so much about what I want. We need to do what’s best for the whole of the organization.
So let’s figure out what’s important together. This is FOR YOU, for all of us.
I want you to help me. I need you to help me.
I am one punk kid from McKinley High who does this for my family, for my mentors, for all of you who have believed in me, most obviously for APSE, and most definitely for 800 E. McKinley Street. But we have to do this together. With urgency.
I want you to think about what would matter to you most if you knew you only had 14 days left. Let’s put that front-and-center, and let’s get to it.
Because you never know if you’ll get another chance.
