Everyone knows the most important person at any wedding is the best man.

And this weekend just gone, I wore the best man crown.

My jobs included:

Helping the groom shimmy into the trousers he swore fit perfectly just days ago.

Being a walking corner shop - cigars, chewing gum, beer, vaseline, bottle openers, lighters, all on hand for the groom and the boys.

And keeping the groom off too much of the above - so he'd walk, not wobble, down the aisle.

But most importantly...

Being the best man means giving a speech.

But not any old speech...

No.

The best man's speech walks a narrow tightrope. Funny, but appropriate. Embarrassing the groom, but not ruining a marriage. And all of it wrapped in a touch of love for the newlyweds.

If you ask me, it's the hardest speech to write on the line-up.

With every other speech - bride, groom, parents - no one's waiting for a laugh. It's all heart-warming stuff.

But the best man's job is to lighten things up. To get everyone ready to boogie.

So weeks before the big day, I sat down in front of my computer - the same way I do every day.

A blank screen. A blank page. A flickering cursor, waiting for the thump of my fingers on the keys.

And I wrote this speech the exact same way I write my clients' ads and funnels.

I started with a brain dump. Every story, every joke, anything I thought might land a laugh.

But that's just a start.

Right now, it's a pile of rubbish.

So next, I dug into two things.

First, the guest list. Because any great marketer knows: before you say a word to anyone, you've got to know exactly who you're talking to.

A best man's speech to a room full of hoodlums is a very different beast to one with the bride's sweet old great-gran in the front row.

Second, I watched other people's best man speeches. No different to competitor research.

But the way I do it is different to most people...

Whenever someone tells me they're doing 'competitor research,' what they really mean is they're going looting. It's a polite way to say: "I'm going to find what my rivals do - and copy it."

I don't like that.

It's the fast lane to beigefication.

So instead, I go looking for the things I hate. The things I'd never do, or say.

That way, I bin as many bad ideas as I can.

Because whether you like it or not, bubba - we all have far more bad ideas than good ones.

Good ideas are far rarer than you think.

Which means the job isn't dreaming up the good ones - it's killing the bad ones.

So I sat down with a pen and paper, watched a good few speeches, and made a list of the stuff I hated.

I held that list up against my brain dump - and cut the stupid stuff.

Then the real work began. Writing the script.

Then practising the speech.

But saying it alone in my office is one thing. Saying it after a bottle of prosecco, after three teary speeches, to a room of ~80 people - that's something else.

So before my turn came, I breathed deep, necked the rest of my beer, and rose to my feet.

And judging by the laughs - and the number of people who came up after to say how much they loved it - it went well.

But one joke landed on blank faces.

So I just called out the elephant in the room...

"Oh, no laughs for that. I thought it was funny. To be clear - that was a joke about his penis being small."

Whilst giggling away to myself.

It got a few laughs. Pity laughs, I reckon.

Either way, a 99% hit rate is enough for me.

Anyway.

If you sell expensive shit to rich people - and you want more calls on the calendar, reliably, repeatedly, relentlessly...

Email me here: connor@15words.co

And you might see what one of our newest clients is seeing right now:

~$350 a call - with seven-figure companies.

~$190k+ in new sales - inside his first 30 days with us.

Email me here: connor@15words.co

Stay speaking,

Connor Benham

—CWB