I Interviewed with a National Sports Organization—and Learned Why Interviews Are a Two-Way Street

I was laid off three days after returning from maternity leave.

Rehired the next day.

And laid off again three months later.

If there were an Olympic sport for emotional whiplash, I would have medaled.

The IT company I worked for had hired too many technical writers, and after moving out of state, I was one of the few fully remote employees. When budgets tightened, the math was easy. Still, being laid off so soon after having a baby left a mark. It took time to recover—not just financially, but emotionally.

So when a recruiter reached out about a Technical Writing role with a high-profile sports organization, I felt a jolt of excitement followed quickly by dread.

The job required commuting into the city every day. Nearly two hours each way. With two small kids at home, a four-hour daily commute felt less like a job and more like a long-term endurance test. But desperation has a way of quieting your instincts. I needed interviews. I needed options.

At that stage of my job search, I would have interviewed to write an instruction manual for a toaster — as long as it came with health insurance.

I went into the city for an initial screening with the recruiting agency. By the time I got home, exhausted and overstimulated, I couldn’t imagine doing that commute every day. Still, I pressed on. That’s what job seekers do.

A few days later, it was time for the phone interview with the national sports league.

On the other end of the line were two women and one man. From the start, the energy felt tight. Polite, but guarded. As if everyone had agreed to keep their answers efficient and their personalities safely tucked away.

They asked about my background in education, my years as a technical writer, and the types of projects I’d worked on. All standard. All fine.

Then it was my turn.

“What’s the company culture like?” I asked, doing my best impression of a calm, curious professional—and not someone who had been laid off twice in one year.

“Well,” one of the women said carefully, “you know… it’s the [acronym for the sports organization].”

She paused. Long enough for me to wonder if there was more she wanted to say but couldn’t. Or maybe she thought the answer was obvious. I grew up playing sports. I’d seen enough locker rooms and sidelines to read between the lines.

Next, I asked the question I already knew I wasn’t “supposed” to ask—especially back then, before remote work became mainstream.

“Is working remotely some days an option?”

The man on the call responded so sharply you’d think I had insulted his mother.

He explained—firmly—that it was important for everyone to be in the office every day.

In that moment, I learned something important: interviews aren’t just about what you say.

They’re about how people react when you ask for what you need.

And sometimes, the answer isn’t “no.”

It’s “this place will never work for you.”

Interviews Have to Work Both Ways

Everyone brings a different personality, background, and set of needs into an interview. Some people love interviewing candidates. Others tolerate it because it’s part of the job. There’s always pressure on both sides—no one wants to make the wrong decision.

But usually, within minutes, you can sense whether there’s alignment. Whether you can imagine working with these people. Whether they can imagine working with you.

That interview was a mismatch. Yes, I needed a job. And yes, they needed someone with my skills. But it didn’t feel right.

As my grandmother would say, “We don’t jive.”

You’re Interviewing Them, Too

I used to treat interviews like first dates where I desperately wanted to be liked. I nodded too much. I laughed too hard. I pretended I had always dreamed of mastering obscure software I’d Googled five minutes earlier.

What I learned—slowly, and with a lot of caffeine—is that honesty actually performs better than perfection.

An interview isn't a performance. It's a chemistry test.

If you’re not an expert in a particular skill, say that. Then explain what you do know, what’s adjacent, or how you’ve learned similar tools quickly in the past. Honesty, and a willingness to learn, come through far more clearly than rehearsed perfection.

And just as importantly, you get to decide if the role works for you.

This mindset shift changes everything. You stop chasing approval. You show up more grounded. Not indifferent—but confident. After all, if they’re interviewing you, you’ve already done something right.

Ask Questions That Actually Matter

Looking back, I don’t regret the questions I asked in that interview. They told me exactly what I needed to know.

Today, when I coach job seekers, I encourage them to ask questions that reveal what daily life would really be like:

• What does success look like in the first 90 days?

• How does the team handle disagreement or feedback?

• What kind of person tends not to thrive here?

These questions don’t make you difficult. They make you informed.

Preparation Is Everything

If you’re getting interviews but not job offers, it’s rarely because you’re unqualified. More often, it’s because you’re underprepared—for the questions and for evaluating the role itself.

Interviews aren’t about convincing someone to choose you at all costs. They’re about finding a match that works on both sides.

And sometimes, the most successful interview is the one that shows you exactly why you should walk away.

If you want help preparing for interviews with more confidence and clarity, I teach a short, practical Interview Course at intervuprep.org. It’s designed to help you turn interviews into offers—and avoid roles that don’t fit your life.

Because getting hired is important.

But getting hired into the right job matters even more.