A Gold Standard of Her Own
Carli Lloyd scored the winning goal in two Olympiads as the U.S. team won the gold. Far from done, she’s preparing to climb greater heights.
Carli Lloyd is the only woman in history to score the winning goal in two Olympic gold medal matches: she did it against Brazil in 2008 in Beijing and against Japan four years later in London. Despite having lived those career highs—and etching her name in sports record books—Lloyd RC’06 is now even more driven to be among soccer’s elite players.
“They are moments I’ll probably never forget, indescribable moments,” she says. “Anytime I’m representing my country and getting a gold medal, it’s honestly a dream come true.” The affable Lloyd plans to compete in the World Cup in 2015 and the 2016 Olympics in Rio de Janeiro. “I think there is still more in me. I think my best years are yet to come.”
Lloyd trains vigorously around the clock, running long distances, hills, and sprints, and doing ball work to continue to improve her game. Soccer has always come first for her—“before my boyfriend, family, and friends even”—and she still loves what she does. “There are not a lot of people who try to reach for the stars,” she says. “Our goal from the beginning was for me to become one of the best players in the world.” By “our,” she means James Galanis, owner of Universal Soccer Academy and her trainer and “go-to person” for 10 years. She credits Galanis with rescuing her from a career low when she was about to quit the Under-21 National Team.
“It sounds so cliché: working hard,” she says. “But if you’re working as hard as you can every single day—if you’re training around the clock, if you’re eating the right things, taking care of your body, and performing well—a coach can never leave you off the field. If you are goofing off, not working as hard, not as fit, it’s real easy for a coach to pull you. It goes for everything. If you want to be successful, you’ve got to clock in as many hours as you can.”
Lloyd was sidelined with a broken shoulder in March while playing for the United States women’s national team in Portugal. The injury didn’t require surgery, so Lloyd expected to be back at midfield with the Western New York Flash in the National Women’s Soccer League for the remainder of the 2013 season. On her Twitter feed, she thanked fans for their support and gave this status update: “No doubt I will return stronger than before. In the meantime I will need some new hobbies. #sad.”
A soccer player since age 5, the superathletic Lloyd shed basketball and swimming during adolescence to turn her attention exclusively to her favorite sport. She played for the Scarlet Knights women’s soccer team from 2001 through 2004 and was the only player to earn First-Team All-Big East honors four straight years. She is Rutgers’ all-time leader in points (117) and goals (50) and was named the 2001 Big East Rookie of the Year, the first Rutgers player to earn the honor, and the 2004 Big East Midfielder of the Year. She was also a three-time National Soccer Coaches Association of America All-American and a semifinalist for the Hermann Trophy. She says it’s an honor to be inducted into the Hall of Distinguished Alumni so soon after graduating, making her one of the youngest inductees.
“All the accolades and awards are great,” she says. “At the end of the day, I’m still Carli, who just kicks a soccer ball around.” • — Angela Delli Santi
A Man for All Seasons
In his varied career as successful lawyer, businessman, and even deputy mayor, Mark Angelson has thrived on building things from which others could benefit.
A framed photograph of Mark Angelson and Chicago mayor Rahm Emanuel sits on a shelf in Angelson’s home overlooking Central Park in New York City. The photo shows them in shirtsleeves, hard at work. It’s inscribed by Emanuel, the political wunderkind who chose Angelson RC’72, NLAW’75 as his deputy mayor: “Mark—You are the best.”
A former law firm partner and big-stakes dealmaker, Angelson was not an obvious choice for a political post, but his selection was viewed as an inspired one. The New York Times called Angelson “the marquee pick of Mr. Emanuel’s cabinet.” When he left the position in 2012, Crain’s Chicago Business said Emanuel was “losing arguably the most successful and effective member of his administration.”
Angelson’s 18-month service as deputy mayor, for which he was credited with helping to create tens of thousands of jobs, was just one highlight in a career that has spanned the globe, from London to Singapore. This wasn’t quite what Angelson expected as a poor kid from Jersey City, New Jersey, watching Perry Mason and dreaming about becoming a lawyer. “I was born six miles straight that way,” Angelson says from a sunlit room with expansive views of Manhattan. It’s not far, really, but it’s a world away. At the Rutgers School of Law–Newark, Angelson hadn’t really considered a job at a venerable Wall Street law firm (“I didn’t know what a Wall Street firm was,” he says). But then a Rutgers dean suggested the possibility, and he was on his way to another life. The 25-minute train ride from Newark to Wall Street for an interview was “the longest train ride” of his life.
Angelson went on to become a partner at a Chicago-based firm, Sidley Austin, leading the development of the firm’s practices in Singapore, New York, and London. Yet he realized he wasn’t really, at heart, about being a lawyer: “I was about building businesses.” In a risky move, he left the law to become a key figure in the consolidation of the printing industry as the CEO of R.R. Donnelley and other firms.
Yet many of his passions have remained. When he retired from R.R. Donnelley, he didn’t buy a boat or a plane; he splurged by upgrading his New York Knicks basketball tickets. He had once followed the Rutgers men’s basketball team, literally, during the 31 consecutive wins in the 1975–76 season that led to its only Final Four appearance (and a 31-2 record). “I can’t prove it,” he says, “but I believe I was the only fan who attended all of those games.” Even in London, he coached his daughters in basketball. Angelson’s father died when he was 7, and his family means everything to him. “Put three letters on my tombstone: ‘D-A-D.’ ”
In recent years, his work has gradually shifted away from the corporate world. He teaches mergers and acquisitions at Northwestern University’s Kellogg School of Management and devotes a considerable amount of time to his work as chair of the Institute of International Education’s Scholar Rescue Fund. And though he is chair of NewPage Corporation, a paper manufacturer, he does not accept compensation; the company makes charitable donations instead. “I’ve taken this for-profit activity and turned it into a nonprofit activity,” he says.
That’s a trend, or so it seems. The photograph isn’t the only thing at his home with Emanuel’s signature on it.
There’s also a dollar bill encased in Lucite. “This is your second-year payment,” Emanuel wrote on it. Yes, that’s what Angelson got paid as deputy mayor: $1. • — Allan Hoffman
The Profitability of Generosity
Businessman Randal Pinkett, who became a household name for appearing on The Apprentice, is leaving a bigger impression helping the disadvantaged.
Randal Pinkett’s résumé reads like a dream biography. Collegiate track star. Rhodes Scholar. Ph.D. from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Three-time author. Popular public speaker. Youth-initiative founder. Entrepreneur and CEO. Winner of Donald Trump’s The Apprentice.
Wait a minute. What? How does mixing it up with The Donald fit here? Say what you want about reality television, says Pinkett with a chuckle, but winning the show in 2005 gave him national prominence. “Yes, being a Rhodes Scholar and having all the degrees and being a CEO of my own corporation have all been great,” says Pinkett ENG’94. “But the platform that I have today is really due to The Apprentice.”
And Pinkett is using that platform to pursue projects that earn profits for his technology-management and consulting firm, BCT Partners, while helping people in underserved communities. As CEO of the Newark, New Jersey-based company, Pinkett leads his team of Rutgers alumni (who first worked together as juniors in the National Society of Black Engineers) on undertakings such as bringing computer training and technical assistance to the U.S. Department of Education’s Promise Neighborhoods initiative, which helps students living in impoverished areas. Last year, the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services awarded BCT two big, multiyear contracts to help start and maintain programs for the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Administration and the National Institutes of Health. Over the years, several other federal government agencies have reaped the benefits of BCT’s technological assistance and training. And since forming in 2001, when its first client was First Baptist Church of Lincoln Gardens in Somerset, New Jersey, BCT has helped the Ford Foundation and the community-based initiatives of corporations such as Johnson & Johnson, Pfizer, and Microsoft.
It’s clear that profits above all else don’t get this man out of bed in the morning. “Our thinking is as much philosophical as it is practical,” says Pinkett, a resident of Somerset, where he lives with his family. “We believe in the double bottom line: financial returns and social returns. Success is not just what you can do for yourself, but what you can do for somebody else.”
A physically imposing, elegant man with an engaging personality, Pinkett devotes much of his time speaking to community and church groups. He also works with students on things such as his Campus CEO Challenge, which rewards high school and college undergraduate and graduate students for innovative business plans. The altruism is nothing new: as budding entrepreneurs while undergraduates at Rutgers, Pinkett and his partners started a compact disc venture, one of four companies they launched. “When we started the compact disc business, we used the proceeds for outreach trips to inner-city high schools,” he says. “Even then, there was the social-entrepreneurship model of making a profit and making a difference.”
“At BCT, we believe that to whom much is given, much is expected.” • — Karyn D. Collins
Judith Viorst, the author of acclaimed children’s books, has a career that she makes look easy. Her secret, though, has always been hard work.
Over the course of her career, Judith Viorst has written millions of words. Six of them, from a children’s book she wrote 40 years ago, have been used recently to introduce national news. The phrase “terrible, horrible, no good, very bad” has been borrowed for countless headlines, to summarize everything from a year of Barack Obama’s presidency to the Transportation Security Administration’s decision to allow pocketknives on flights.
Viorst NCAS’52 wrote Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day (Atheneum, 1972) about her youngest son, so prone to calamities that he once injured his leg falling off a chair during story time at school. Alexander has sold four million copies, and Viorst is negotiating with Disney to make it a feature film. Although she has written 35 other books, many of them best sellers, the Alexander-inspired headlines still thrill her.
That may be because realizing her dream of becoming a published writer took so much time and such dogged persistence. Viorst began sending poems to magazines at age 7, and kept submitting her writing throughout her childhood in New Jersey, during college at Rutgers, and while living in New York, when she sent poems to the New Yorker magazine and tried to write for the magazines and children’s book publishers she worked for. “Wherever I was, I was trying to climb out of what I was doing and into writing,” she says. “But nothing ever got published.”
After marrying political writer Milton Viorst RC’51 and moving from the publishing mecca to Washington, D.C., she finally broke through. As an editor of science publications for teenagers, she was asked to write a book about the NASA space program. Though certainly not her strong suit, she became a published author, and publishers took note.
Her poems first began appearing in New York magazine and then in book collections. Unlike her contrived early works, in which death and desire were prevailing themes, these poems were funny and relatable. Viorst wrote with self-deprecating humor about her experiences in New York, her marriage, her three children, and the kinds of thoughts people usually don’t admit to. Readers saw themselves, and they loved her for it.
The popularity of her poetry led to an offer to write children’s books, 25 years as a columnist for Redbook, an Emmy Award for the use of her poems in a 1970 television special starring Anne Bancroft, and even musical theater. Actress Bonnie Franklin asked her to turn her poems into a musical, and Viorst teamed up with composer Shelly Markham to write the adult comedy Love and Shrimp. Three musicals based on her children’s books followed.
The theme of Viorst’s work, she says, is our inner experiences and relationships. To advance her understanding, she studied at the Washington Psychoanalytic Institute for six years, graduating in 1981. It led to her adult nonfiction book Necessary Losses (Simon & Schuster, 1986), a New York Times best seller for two years.
Viorst, talented and insightful as she is, owes her prolific career to hard work, she claims. And it’s no different when writing a children’s book, even though “everybody thinks it’s the easiest thing in the world to do.” You have to respect children and the genre, she says, and “work just as hard at getting every word right.” You just never know where those words will turn up. • — Lara De Meo RC’97
Lessons to Live By
On his zigzagging road to success, today as a top utilities executive, Joseph Rigby has relied on a half-dozen truths to guide him, none more important than keeping an open mind.
Talk about a man knowing his own mind. On his first go-round in higher education, a mere 30 minutes into his very first class, Joseph Rigby realized that college was not for him—at least not at that point in his life. So he left Rutgers–Camden and went back to work on a local scallion farm in Sicklerville, New Jersey. “I went from Most Likely to Succeed in high school to college dropout in three months,” says Rigby SBC’79. “I was a confused 17-year-old kid. It made for an interesting night at the dinner table that evening.”
Since that inauspicious start to his college career four decades ago, Rigby has rebounded nicely. He returned to Rutgers–Camden, received a degree in accounting, and landed a job as a junior accountant at Atlantic City Electric, a utility company. He hoped someday he’d become a supervisor, maybe even a manager. Today he’s the president, CEO, and chair of the board of the parent company, Pepco Holdings, a regional energy holding company that supplies power to roughly two million customers from southern New Jersey to Washington, D.C.
“I have an opportunity to work with people and participate with people in something that’s really essential—delivering electricity to people,” Rigby says. “I’ve always looked at that as an honor. You get to do something that’s important.”
Rigby has been with the same company, through two mergers, for 34 years. Loyalty, in fact, is a Rigby trademark. He’s been married for 34 years to the only woman he ever dated. And he’s remained true to Rutgers–Camden for embracing him on his second try at college. Dedication to Rutgers is something of a Rigby family tradition. His brother, sister, daughter, niece, two nephews, and all four brothers-in-law are Rutgers alumni.
“It’s one of the reasons why my wife and I are so supportive of Rutgers–Camden,” Rigby says. “It’s a little gem in South Jersey. You can get a great education there for a very competitive cost, and I really love the environment.”
A few years ago Rigby and his wife established the Joseph and Carol Rigby Scholarship Fund. The annual $15,000 contribution has been used to help nearly 40 business students. “I can’t tell you how much that means,” Rigby says. “It’s a great honor to feel that you’re helping somebody.”
When Rigby was invited to deliver the commencement address at the School of Business–Camden in 2009, he spoke not about the big problems of the world, but about six lessons he’d learned since his own graduation 30 years earlier. They were life lessons, really, about being open to people different from you, getting involved in your community, learning to talk to people and listen to them, and finding something to be passionate about.
But perhaps it was Rigby’s first lesson—“Have a plan and be open to changing that plan”—that struck closest to home. He’d come a long way from the day he decided that college was not for him, a decision that yielded its own life lessons. “Hey, when you start on a path, you have to have faith,” Rigby says. “Maybe the path will not work out, but you have to start on a path to find out.” • — Christopher Hann