When I entered college, I thought I knew exactly what I wanted to do.
I planned to become a teacher so I could coach high school basketball.
It seemed like a clear, practical path. I could picture where it would take me—or at least I thought I could.
Then a fifth-grade leaf assignment changed everything.
During a student-teaching experience in 1996, I became frustrated with the detail and repetition the assignment required. I decided classroom teaching wasn’t the right path for me, changed direction, and eventually earned my degree in sports management.
At the time, I viewed that experience as evidence that I needed to do something different.
Years later, I realized the assignment had been trying to teach me one of the most important lessons of my career:
Greatness is built by respecting the process.
The Lesson I Couldn’t See Yet
At 20 years old, I wanted to get to the exciting part.
I wanted to coach.
I wanted to train athletes.
I wanted to do meaningful work in basketball.
I didn’t yet appreciate the value of small details, patient repetition, and mastering fundamentals. I didn’t understand that those seemingly ordinary actions would become the foundation of everything I would eventually teach.
That’s one of the challenges of building a career.
We often don’t recognize the significance of an experience while we’re living through it. We label something a distraction, disappointment, or wrong turn because we can’t yet see how it connects to the future.
But careers rarely make sense looking forward.
They make sense when we look back and connect the lessons.
Persistence Before Opportunity
After college, I knew I wanted to work in basketball performance.
Knowing what you want, however, doesn’t guarantee immediate access to it.
From 2000 to 2003, I repeatedly pursued an opportunity at Montrose Christian. I sent letters. I left messages. I continued reaching out even when I wasn’t receiving a response.
I didn’t have an impressive list of professional athletes on my résumé.
I didn’t have a powerful network opening doors for me.
I simply believed I could add value, and I kept preparing for an opportunity to prove it.
Eventually, I earned an audition.
That opportunity became a seven-year chapter of my career and gave me the chance to work with some of the most talented young basketball players in the country, including a young Kevin Durant.
There’s an important distinction between persistence and entitlement.
Persistence isn’t repeatedly demanding that someone give you what you want.
Persistence is continuing to improve so you’re ready when an opportunity finally appears.
Everyone wants access to the right room.
Far fewer people prepare themselves to contribute once they enter it.
Don’t simply knock on the door.
Prepare for the moment it opens.
What Elite Performers Taught Me
For more than 15 years, I had the privilege of working with and around some of basketball’s best players and coaches.
I saw elite talent up close.
I also saw that talent was never the full story.
The players who separated themselves were coachable. They prepared with intention. They worked consistently. They accepted feedback. They respected the details other people overlooked.
One of the most influential moments of my career happened in 2007 at the Kobe Bryant Skills Academy.
I walked into a gym in Los Angeles at 3:30 in the morning to watch Kobe train.
The early start was impressive, but that wasn’t what surprised me most.
The workout looked remarkably basic.
One of the greatest basketball players in the world was working on footwork and fundamental offensive movements—the same kinds of movements I taught to much younger players.
Kobe understood something most people miss:
The basics aren’t beneath you.
They’re the foundation beneath you.
As people become more successful, they often drift away from the habits that helped create their success. They get busier. They begin looking for more advanced strategies. Sometimes they convince themselves they’ve outgrown the fundamentals.
The highest performers take the opposite approach.
They respect the basics even more.
That lesson changed how I approached coaching, performance, and eventually business.
From the Locker Room to the Boardroom
In 2016, my career changed direction again.
I delivered my first corporate presentation in Jamaica. During that experience, I realized the performance principles I had learned in basketball transferred directly to the business world.
Great basketball teams need preparation, accountability, trust, communication, and consistent execution.
So do great organizations.
Elite athletes can’t depend on motivation every day.
Neither can business leaders.
Successful teams establish clear standards, give honest feedback, and respond constructively when something goes wrong.
The same is true in the workplace.
The language and environment were different, but the foundational principles were remarkably similar.
In 2017, I shifted into corporate speaking and performance coaching full time. Since then, I’ve had the privilege of working with leaders and organizations around the world and writing three books: Raise Your Game, Sustain Your Game, and Next Play.
That transition was not part of my original career plan.
Neither was training elite basketball players.
Neither was becoming an author.
Each chapter grew from lessons, relationships, and opportunities created during the chapter before it.
Your Career Is a Series of Next Plays
Many people place enormous pressure on themselves to create a perfect career plan.
They want to know where they’ll be in five, 10, or 20 years.
Having a direction is useful. Setting goals matters. But no plan can account for every opportunity, setback, relationship, or change in perspective you’ll experience.
You don’t need to know exactly where your career will end.
You need to handle the opportunity in front of you.
That means preparing when no one is watching.
It means mastering your current role before becoming consumed with the next one.
It means remaining open to feedback.
It means building relationships by creating value.
It means learning from mistakes without allowing them to define you.
It means having the courage to change direction when your current path no longer aligns with who you’re becoming.
Your last experience may explain where you are.
It does not have to determine where you go next.
Three Questions to Ask Yourself
If you feel uncertain about your career, pause and ask:
1. What is this experience teaching me?
Even frustrating or disappointing chapters can develop skills, awareness, and resilience you’ll need later.
Don’t move on so quickly that you miss the lesson.
2. Am I preparing for the opportunity I say I want?
Wanting access isn’t enough.
Are your habits, skills, and professionalism preparing you to contribute when the door opens?
3. What is my next play?
You don’t need to solve your entire career today.
Identify the next useful action.
Make the call.
Strengthen the skill.
Request the feedback.
Have the conversation.
Complete the work in front of you with care.
Then make another next play.
Keep Moving Forward
My career has taken me from student teaching, to elite basketball performance, to corporate speaking, coaching, and writing.
None of it unfolded in a straight line.
But every chapter contributed something.
Every opportunity required preparation.
Every setback contained a lesson.
Every transition demanded a willingness to release what had already happened and focus on what mattered next.
Careers rarely move in a straight line.
That doesn’t mean you’re lost.
It may simply mean you’re still connecting the experiences that will eventually make your path clear.
Prepare for the opportunity in front of you.
Extract the lesson from the one behind you.
Then make the next play.
