The Small Change That Could Alter Your Career (September 14, 2026)

This week, I have the opportunity to speak with students at Spartanburg Methodist College and the University of Missouri–St. Louis.

The schools are in different places. The students will have different backgrounds, goals and questions. Yet I want both groups to hear the same message:

Small changes lead to lasting breakthroughs.

Most students hear the word “success” and picture a huge moment: landing the dream internship, accepting the first full-time job or meeting the person who opens the right door.

Those moments matter. But they rarely appear out of nowhere.

They are usually built through small choices that did not feel important at the time.

One email sent.

One question asked after class.

One story added to a portfolio.

One thank-you note written.

One introduction made.

One extra hour spent learning a skill.

None of these actions will make headlines. Together, they can change the direction of a career.

Stop Waiting for the Giant Leap

Early in a career, it is easy to believe you need a perfect plan before you can move. You may think you need more experience, a stronger résumé or more confidence.

Here is the hard truth: confidence usually shows up after you act, not before.

Waiting until you feel ready can become a comfortable form of standing still.

You do not need to fix your entire future this week. You need to make one smart move that gives your future a better chance.

If your résumé needs work, improve one bullet.

If your network is small, introduce yourself to one professional.

If you have no portfolio, post one example of your work and explain what you contributed.

If interviews make you nervous, practice answering one question on camera.

Small does not mean weak. Small means you can begin today.

Breakthroughs Are Usually Quiet at First

People often notice the result but miss the repetition that produced it.

They see someone get hired but not the months that person spent building relationships. They see a polished portfolio but not the first rough project. They see a confident speaker but not the nervous student who once struggled to raise a hand.

A lasting breakthrough often begins as a decision no one else sees.

That is why comparing your beginning to someone else’s big moment is a bad deal. You are comparing your behind-the-scenes work to their highlight reel.

Your better question is not, “Why am I not where they are?”

Ask, “What small change can I make today that puts me one step closer?”

That question gives you control.

Pick a Change You Can Repeat

The best small change is not the most impressive one. It is the one you will keep doing.

Sending 30 rushed connection requests in one night may feel productive. Starting one thoughtful professional conversation each week is more likely to build real relationships.

Rewriting your entire résumé every month is not necessary. Tracking your results after each project gives you better material when it is time to update it.

Watching hours of career advice will not replace experience. Volunteering for one assignment that stretches your skills will.

Choose an action simple enough to repeat and meaningful enough to matter.

Try this three-part test:

1. Is it specific? “Get better at networking” is vague. “Introduce myself to one professional this week” is clear.

2. Can I control it? You cannot control whether someone hires you. You can control whether you prepare, apply and follow up.

3. Can I prove I did it? A sent email, updated portfolio item or completed practice interview creates evidence.

If your change passes all three tests, you have something you can act on.

Your Next Opportunity May Begin With a Reply

At the end of my conversations with students this week, I do not want them to leave with pages of notes and no next step. Inspiration without action has a short shelf life.

I want each student to choose one small change, act on it and report back.

Not next semester. Not after graduation. This week.

The reply matters because accountability turns a good intention into a real commitment. It also starts a conversation. Careers grow through conversations, and you never know which one will lead to advice, encouragement, an introduction or an opportunity.

Your first step does not need to be perfect. It needs to be completed.

Then take another.

Challenge

Before this week ends, choose one move:

• Contact one person working in a role you want to learn about.

• Improve one section of your résumé or portfolio.

• Ask for feedback on one piece of your work.

• Learn one tool or skill that appears in job descriptions you want.

• Thank one person who has helped you grow.

• Apply for one opportunity you might normally talk yourself out of pursuing.

Write down what you chose. Give yourself a deadline. Follow through.

Then reply to the email and let me know how it went.

The response does not need to be a major success story. Maybe the person did not answer. Maybe the application did not lead to an interview. Maybe your first attempt felt awkward.

That still counts.

The goal is not to win every time. The goal is to become someone who takes the next step, learns from it and keeps moving.

Big careers are not built in one dramatic moment. They are built when small, smart actions become habits—and those habits create opportunities that once felt out of reach.

What small change will you make this week?

Make it. Then tell me what happened.

Your Network Has a Longer Memory Than You Think (September 10, 2026)

More than 20 years ago, Gregg Fort was my boss at Florida International University.

On Tuesday night, I had the opportunity to speak to his students at the University of Oklahoma.

A lot happened between those two moments.

Jobs changed. Schools changed. Responsibilities grew. Careers took unexpected turns.

But one thing stayed with me: a relationship built through working together.

Years ago, Gregg knew about an opportunity at Texas A&M University-Commerce, now East Texas A&M University. He also knew me. Through his childhood friend, Sam Walker, Gregg helped make a connection that opened the door for me to become a director.

Think about what that really means.

Gregg didn't just know my name.

He knew my work.

And he was willing to put his reputation behind mine.

That's networking.

But it's probably not the version you've been taught.

Your Work Is Part of Your Network

When we talk about networking with students and young professionals, we often make it sound like a numbers game.

How many people did you meet?

How many LinkedIn connections do you have?

How many business cards did you collect at the convention?

How many athletic directors, administrators or sports communicators know your name?

Those things can help.

But I think we're missing a bigger question:

What do those people know about you?

There is a big difference between someone knowing your name and someone being willing to recommend you.

A LinkedIn connection requires a click.

A recommendation requires trust.

When someone recommends you for a job, internship, graduate assistantship or opportunity, they're putting a little piece of their own reputation on the line.

They're telling someone else:

"I know this person. I believe in them. You should give them a chance."

You can't collect that kind of trust at a networking reception.

You earn it.

You're Building References Before You Ask for Them

If you're an intern, graduate assistant or young sports communicator, your next opportunity may come from an application you submit.

But it may not.

Someone may be forming an opinion about you today that becomes important three years from now.

Your supervisor sees whether you meet deadlines.

Your coworkers notice whether you help when the workload gets heavy.

Coaches learn whether they can trust you.

Student-athletes see whether you treat them with respect.

Other sports communicators notice whether you make their jobs easier or harder on game day.

People remember whether you follow through.

They remember how you respond when something goes wrong.

They remember whether you take responsibility.

They remember whether you only show up when you need something.

You're building references long before you ask anyone to be one.

That's why your first job isn't "just" your first job.

Your internship isn't "just" an internship.

Your graduate assistant position isn't simply something you need to complete before getting a full-time position.

Every one of those experiences is creating a group of people who will someday answer a very important question about you:

"What do you think of Danny?"

Put your own name in that sentence.

Now ask yourself what you hope they'll say.

More importantly, ask yourself what you've given them evidence to say.

Would Someone Put Their Reputation Behind Your Name?

This is a tougher question than, "Do I have a good network?"

Look at the people you've worked with during the past few years.

Who would confidently recommend you?

Not because they like you.

Not because you're connected on LinkedIn.

Not because you occasionally comment on each other's posts.

Who has seen enough of your work, character and consistency to make a phone call on your behalf?

That's a different kind of connection.

And here's another uncomfortable question:

Are you maintaining those relationships when you don't need anything?

It's easy to send someone a message when you're looking for a job.

It's easy to reconnect when you need a reference.

It's easy to ask someone for 20 minutes when they work at a school with an opening you want.

Relationships shouldn't begin again every time you need something.

Sometimes the best networking message has no request attached to it.

"How are you doing?"

"I saw your team had a great weekend."

"Congratulations on the new position."

"I was thinking about something you taught me."

"Thank you again for helping me."

No résumé.

No job opening.

No ask.

Just a relationship.

Do a Relationship Audit

Here's something I'd encourage you to do this week.

Write down the names of five people you've worked with over the past two years.

For each person, ask yourself:

• What would this person say I'm good at?

• What evidence have I given them?

• What would they say I still need to improve?

• When was the last time I contacted them without asking for something?

• Would they confidently recommend me for an opportunity?

Don't answer the questions based on what you hope is true.

Be tough on yourself.

Then pick one person and reconnect this week.

Don't ask about a job.

Don't send your résumé.

Don't ask them to "keep you in mind."

Talk to them because the relationship matters.

The Long Game

When Gregg Fort was my boss at FIU, neither of us knew that more than two decades later I'd be speaking to one of his classes at Oklahoma.

I certainly couldn't have mapped out every stop between then and now.

That's the point.

You don't know which coworker, supervisor, classmate, coach or colleague will cross your path again.

You don't know who will someday hear about an opportunity and think of you.

And you don't know when someone will be sitting in a room where your name comes up.

But you can control what they remember when it does.

Don't build a network because you need a job. Build a reputation that makes people want to help when the right opportunity appears.

Connections may introduce you.

Your reputation gives people a reason to recommend you.

And trust is what makes them willing to put their name next to yours.

That's the kind of network worth building.

Your network works before you need it (September 8, 2026)

Some of the most important career opportunities in my life started with a conversation I wasn't even part of.

Today, I'll give my first lecture of the 2026-27 academic year to students at the University of Oklahoma.

The invitation came from Gregg Fort.

Gregg was my boss when I worked as the Media Relations Coordinator at Florida International University. But his impact on my career didn't end when I left FIU.

Years ago, Gregg had a conversation with one of his childhood friends, Sam Walker.

That conversation helped connect me to an opportunity at Texas A&M University-Commerce, now East Texas A&M, where I was able to move into a director role.

Think about that for a second.

A relationship Gregg had built long before I needed it eventually created an opportunity for me.

And now, years later, that same relationship between Gregg and me has created another opportunity—this time for me to speak with students preparing for their own careers.

That's what networking is supposed to look like.

It's not collecting LinkedIn connections.

It's not sending someone a message only when you need a job.

And it's certainly not asking, "What can this person do for me?"

It's doing good work.

It's treating people well.

It's staying connected.

It's helping when you can.

And it's understanding that you rarely know which relationship will matter five, 10 or 20 years from now.

That's one of the reasons I'm building GetSET2Connect.

I want students and young professionals pursuing careers in college athletics to understand something I had to learn through experience:

Your career isn't built by applications alone. It's built by people who know you, trust you and are willing to say your name when you're not in the room.

Gregg did that for me.

Today, I get an opportunity to pay some of that forward with his students at Oklahoma.

Maybe one conversation today helps someone five years from now.

That's the point.

Don't wait until you need a connection to start building relationships.

DON'T: Only Network With People Who Can Hire You (September 3, 2026)

If you only network with athletic directors, SIDs and people who can hire you, you're doing networking wrong.

I understand why people do it.

You're looking for your first job. Or your next job.

You see someone with "Director" in their title and think, That's someone I should know.

You see an athletic director and think, Maybe they could hire me someday.

You see a graduate assistant, intern or fellow student and think, They're trying to get started just like me.

So you spend most of your networking energy trying to connect up.

I think that's a mistake.

Some of the most valuable relationships you'll build during your career may be with people who can't offer you a job today.

Your Peers Are Part of Your Network

The graduate assistant working beside you matters.

The intern you meet at a conference matters.

The student from another school who sends you a LinkedIn request matters.

Your classmates matter.

Professors matter.

Former classmates matter.

The person working their first full-time job at another school matters.

Not because of the title they might have someday.

Because they're people worth knowing today.

They are experiencing many of the same things you are. They're learning. They're making mistakes. They're meeting people. They're figuring out what they want from their careers.

And they're building networks of their own.

That's where networking becomes powerful.

Careers Don't Move in Straight Lines

Here's something I've learned from working in college athletics for more than two decades:

People move.

A lot.

Today's intern becomes tomorrow's graduate assistant.

The graduate assistant becomes an assistant director.

The assistant director becomes a director.

The director becomes an associate athletic director.

Some leave athletics and go into agencies, professional sports, higher education, corporate communications or completely different industries.

You have no idea where someone's career will take them.

And they don't know where yours will take you.

That's exactly why someone's current title shouldn't determine whether they're worth your time.

Stop Asking, "What Can This Person Do for Me?"

This is where networking gets sideways.

Someone gets introduced to an athletic director and immediately wants to send a résumé.

Someone connects with an SID and immediately asks about job openings.

Someone meets an established professional and starts thinking about how that person can help advance their career.

That's not relationship building.

That's prospecting.

There's a place for being intentional about meeting decision-makers. If you're searching for a job, you absolutely should know the people making hiring decisions.

But that cannot be your entire networking strategy.

Instead of always asking:

"What can this person do for me?"

Start asking:

"What can I learn about this person?"

What are they working toward?

What are they good at?

What challenges are they facing?

What can I learn from their experiences?

Can I introduce them to somebody?

Can I encourage them?

Can I help them?

That's how relationships start becoming something more than LinkedIn connections.

Network Across, Not Just Up

Early in your career, there's tremendous value in meeting people at roughly the same stage you are.

You can compare experiences.

Share job openings.

Talk about interviews.

Recommend tools.

Make introductions.

Celebrate when somebody gets an opportunity.

And sometimes, you can tell each other the things you're hesitant to ask someone 20 years ahead of you.

Then something interesting happens.

You grow together.

Five years later, those people are scattered throughout the industry.

Ten years later, you may have friends and trusted colleagues at dozens of schools, conferences, organizations and companies.

You didn't build those relationships because you calculated what everybody could eventually do for you.

You built them because you stayed connected.

Your Network Shouldn't Look Like an Organizational Chart

If everyone in your network has a bigger title than you, I would question whether you've actually built a network.

A healthy professional network should go in every direction.

There should be people ahead of you who can teach and challenge you.

People beside you who understand what you're experiencing.

And eventually, people coming behind you whom you can encourage and help.

That's a network.

And as your career grows, your responsibility changes.

Someone helped you.

Now you help somebody else.

Someone answered your email.

Now you answer someone else's.

Someone took 20 minutes to talk with you when they didn't have to.

Someday, you're the person who needs to find those 20 minutes.

That's how a profession gets stronger.

Don't Judge Someone's Value by Their Title

I want young professionals to understand this early because it can change how they approach networking.

Don't walk into a room looking for the most important person.

Talk to people.

Be curious.

Ask good questions.

Remember names.

Follow up.

Stay connected when you don't need anything.

And don't overlook the person standing beside you because you're too busy trying to get the attention of the person across the room.

You never know where either career is headed.

More importantly, that shouldn't be the reason you build the relationship anyway.

Good networking isn't collecting important people.

It's building meaningful relationships over time.

So here's my challenge:

Look through your network this week.

Who have you been overlooking because they couldn't immediately help your career?

Who is at a similar stage as you?

Who haven't you talked with since college?

Who is starting out and could use the same encouragement somebody once gave you?

Reach out to one of them.

No résumé.

No job request.

No hidden agenda.

Just start a conversation.

Stop building your network based on people's titles. Build relationships with good people.

O

Don't Wait Until You Need a Job to Build Your Network (September 1, 2026)

Relationships are built over time.

More than 300 people recently acknowledged a Facebook post I wrote about my career-search experience.

I noticed the number.

But what caught my attention was something much more important.

I started looking at the names.

There were people I knew from college athletics. Former coworkers. Friends. People from schools where I've worked. People I've met professionally. People who have known me for years. Others I've gotten to know much more recently.

They represented different jobs, different cities and different chapters of my life.

And seeing all those names together reminded me of something I've learned throughout my career:

The worst time to start building your network is when you desperately need one.

Your Network Isn't a Contact List

We sometimes make networking far more complicated than it needs to be.

Go to a convention.

Collect business cards.

Connect on LinkedIn.

Meet an athletic director.

Introduce yourself to an SID.

Send some emails.

Those things can all be part of networking.

But none of them, by themselves, create a relationship.

You can have 2,000 LinkedIn connections and still have very few people you would feel comfortable calling when your career hits a difficult stretch.

That's the difference between having contacts and having relationships.

A contact knows your name.

A relationship knows your story.

And when you're looking for your first job, trying to make a career move or suddenly find yourself searching for your next opportunity, that difference matters.

Don't Introduce Yourself Only When You Need Something

Think about the email many people send when they're searching for a job:

"Hi, I hope you're doing well. I'm currently looking for my next opportunity. Please let me know if you hear of anything."

There's nothing necessarily wrong with sending it.

But ask yourself a harder question:

When was the last time you talked with that person before you needed their help?

If the answer is three years ago, that's not much of a relationship.

Networking shouldn't begin with:

What can you do for me?

It should begin much earlier with:

How can we know each other better?

Ask about someone's work.

Congratulate them when something good happens.

Share something that might help them.

Introduce them to someone.

Check in occasionally.

Have coffee when you're in the same city.

Send the message when you don't need a favor.

Those small interactions add up.

I Didn't Build Those 300 Relationships With One Post

That's what struck me when I looked at the people who responded to my Facebook post.

I didn't meet them all at the same convention.

They didn't all come from the same job.

And they certainly didn't all enter my life because I was looking for employment.

Those relationships accumulated over years.

Some started because we worked together.

Some came through college athletics.

Some began through professional organizations.

Some came from people introducing me to other people.

And some had nothing to do with my career at all.

That's what a real network looks like.

It grows while you're living and working, not simply while you're searching.

Relationships are built over time. From 2013-16, Adam Ledyard, now Assistant AD for Communications at East Texas Baptist, and I worked in close proximity as colleagues in college athletics. Since we first met, I've watched Adam become an innovator in our profession, but what has meant even more to me is the friendship we've built along the way. He has become someone I trust, respect and know I can count on—one of those relationships that reminds me why building a network is about far more than your next job.

Networking Isn't About Finding Someone Important

Here's another mistake I see young professionals make:

They try to network up.

They want to meet the athletic director.

The senior associate AD.

The communications director.

The person with the biggest title in the room.

Meet those people. Learn from them.

But don't ignore the person sitting beside you because their title doesn't seem important enough.

Today's intern could become tomorrow's assistant director.

Today's graduate assistant could eventually become a department head.

The student sitting beside you in class could someday know about an opportunity that's perfect for you.

And there's an even simpler reason to build relationships with people regardless of title:

They're people. Not career assets.

If you're deciding whether someone is worth knowing based on what they might someday do for you, you're not networking.

You're prospecting.

People can usually tell the difference.

Build Before You Need

If you're currently employed and happy, this is actually one of the best times to strengthen your network.

There's no desperation attached.

You aren't asking for anything.

You can simply get to know people.

Start small.

Reach out to one person whose work you've been following.

Reconnect with a former colleague.

Ask someone for a 20-minute conversation about their career.

Comment thoughtfully on someone's LinkedIn post instead of simply clicking "Like."

Congratulate someone who received a promotion.

Make an introduction between two people who should know each other.

Then do something most people forget:

Stay in touch.

You don't need to message everyone every week.

You don't need a complicated networking spreadsheet with 500 names.

You just need to be intentional about maintaining relationships.

If You're Looking Right Now, Start Anyway

Maybe you're reading this and thinking:

"That's great advice, Danny, but I already need the job."

Then start today.

You can't go backward and build relationships five years ago.

But you can stop treating every conversation as a transaction starting now.

Don't message 50 strangers asking whether they know of openings.

Choose five people.

Talk with them.

Ask questions.

Listen.

Tell them what you're trying to accomplish.

Ask what they think you're missing.

Ask who else they believe you should meet.

And when someone helps you, don't disappear after you get what you wanted.

That's how a connection starts becoming a relationship.

Your Network Is Bigger Than Your Next Job

This may be the most important part.

Networking isn't only about getting hired.

The right relationships can help you make better decisions.

They can challenge you.

They can tell you when your resume isn't good enough.

They can prepare you for an interview.

They can introduce you to someone you never would have met.

They can tell you about an opportunity before you see the posting.

They can encourage you after another rejection.

And sometimes they'll tell you something you don't want to hear but probably need to.

That's why I don't measure my network by the number next to "connections" on LinkedIn.

I think about the people.

The relationships.

The conversations.

The people I've helped and the people who have helped me.

More than 300 people responding to one Facebook post didn't create my network.

It showed me the network that had been built over years.

And it reminded me of a lesson worth sharing with anyone trying to build a career:

Don't wait until you need a job to build your network.

Build it when things are going well.

Build it when you have nothing to ask for.

Build it by helping other people.

Build it one relationship at a time.

Because someday you may need your network.

And when that day comes, you'll be glad you didn't wait until then to start building it.

What About the People Who Didn't Get the Job? (August 31, 2026)

This is me on the night that I received the Distinguished Alumnus Award from Columbus State Community College Sport and Exercise Studies in June 2020. Photo by John Glaser Photography

Stop Asking People to Keep You in Mind (August 25, 2026)

Don't ask someone to remember you when an opportunity comes along. Give them reasons to remember you before one does.

You've probably said it.

I know I've heard it countless times during my career.

Maybe you've just finished a conversation with someone working in college athletics. Perhaps they reviewed your resume, answered questions about the profession or spent 20 minutes talking with you about your career.

The conversation is wrapping up.

Then comes the line:

"If you hear of anything, please keep me in mind."

There's nothing necessarily wrong with saying it.

But there's a problem if that's your career strategy.

You're putting the responsibility for what happens next on someone else.

You met them.

You told them what you're looking for.

Now you're hoping they'll remember you when an opportunity appears.

What are you going to do to make sure they do?

Being Connected Isn't the Same as Being Remembered

In my last post, "You Don't Need More Connections. You Need Better Conversations," I wrote about something I've been seeing more frequently while talking with students, recent graduates and young professionals.

We tell people they need to network.

So they do.

They build their LinkedIn networks.

They attend conventions.

They introduce themselves.

They schedule informational conversations.

Those are good things.

But making the connection is only the beginning.

The next challenge is staying connected without turning every interaction into:

"Do you know of any jobs?"

That's where networking starts becoming relationship building.

And there's a big difference between the two.

Meet → Ask → Wait

Here's the networking strategy I want young professionals to stop using:

Meet → Ask → Wait

You meet someone.

You tell them you're looking for an opportunity.

You ask them to keep you in mind.

Then you wait.

Maybe they remember you.

Maybe they don't.

Think about what you're asking.

Someone may know hundreds — perhaps thousands — of people throughout their career.

They're managing their own job.

Their own staff.

Their own deadlines.

Their own family.

Their own professional relationships.

And now we're expecting them to remember that six months ago we mentioned that we'd really like to work in sports communications?

That's asking a lot.

There's a better approach.

Meet → Learn → Act → Follow Up → Add Value → Stay Connected

This takes more work.

That's exactly why it works.

1. Meet

Start the relationship.

Introduce yourself.

But don't approach someone because you've already figured out what they can do for you.

Get to know them.

Learn about their career.

Understand what they do.

Start with curiosity.

2. Learn

This is where the better conversation matters.

Ask thoughtful questions.

Listen.

If someone has spent 10, 20 or 30 years working in the profession you're trying to enter, don't spend the entire conversation telling them about yourself.

Learn something.

Ask what they wish they knew when they started.

Ask what skills they see becoming more important.

Ask what separates strong candidates from everyone else.

Ask about mistakes they've made.

Then listen.

3. Act

This may be the most important step.

Do something with what you learned.

If someone tells you that your writing needs improvement, write more.

If they tell you your portfolio needs work, improve it.

If they recommend learning statistics software, start learning it.

If they suggest reaching out to someone, make the introduction.

Advice without action doesn't change anything.

And here's something else I've learned:

People remember when you actually use their advice.

4. Follow Up

Imagine receiving this message a month after talking with someone:

"When we talked, you suggested that I strengthen my portfolio by showing more variety in my work. I took your advice and added several new writing and social media examples. Thank you again for pointing me in that direction."

Notice what's missing.

There's no request for a job.

There's no:

"Have you heard of anything?"

You're simply showing the person that their time mattered.

You listened.

You acted.

You're getting better.

That's how you begin becoming memorable.

5. Add Value

This is the part of networking we don't discuss enough.

You don't have to be 20 years into your career before you can help someone.

Maybe you see an article connected to something you discussed.

Send it.

Maybe they receive an award.

Congratulate them.

Maybe their school accomplishes something significant.

Acknowledge it.

Maybe they post something on LinkedIn that makes you think.

Join the conversation with a thoughtful response.

Adding value doesn't have to mean doing something enormous.

Sometimes it simply means demonstrating that the relationship isn't entirely about what you can get from the other person.

6. Stay Connected

This is where relationships are built.

Not every week.

Not with a scheduled:

"Hey, just checking in."

And certainly not every time you see a job opening.

Stay connected naturally.

Let people see your progress.

Celebrate theirs.

Ask questions when you genuinely have one.

Share what you're learning.

And occasionally reach out simply because you haven't talked in a while.

That's different from maintaining a relationship only because you think someone might eventually help you get hired.

Give People a Reason to Remember You

Here's the shift I want young professionals to make:

Stop asking people to keep you in mind.

Instead:

Give them reasons to remember you.

Become the person who follows through.

Become the person who takes advice and does something with it.

Become the person who asks good questions.

Become the person who improves.

Become the person who shows appreciation.

Become the person who helps others.

Become the person who stays connected before needing something.

Then something interesting happens.

When an opportunity does appear, someone doesn't have to search their memory trying to remember who you are.

They already know.

Your Resume Can't Do This For You

This is also why I don't believe career development can simply be about creating a better resume.

You absolutely need a strong resume.

But your resume can't build relationships for you.

It can't ask thoughtful questions.

It can't follow up.

It can't demonstrate curiosity.

It can't thank someone.

It can't show someone six months of professional growth.

And it certainly can't build your reputation.

Your resume tells people what you've done.

Your relationships help people understand who you are.

You need both.

The Five-Minute Follow-Up Test

Here's something practical you can do today.

Open LinkedIn.

Look at the people you've had meaningful career conversations with during the last year.

Pick three.

Then ask yourself:

When was the last time I talked with them?

More importantly:

What have I done since our conversation?

If someone gave you advice and you acted on it, tell them.

Don't ask for anything.

Don't send your resume.

Don't ask whether they know of openings.

Simply say thank you and tell them what happened because you listened.

Five minutes.

One message.

One relationship strengthened.

Career Development Requires Ownership

There's a larger lesson underneath all of this.

Nobody will care about your career more than you do.

Mentors can guide you.

Professors can teach you.

Supervisors can challenge you.

Friends can encourage you.

Connections can introduce you.

But eventually you have to do something.

That's why I've become increasingly interested in the space between career advice and career action.

Young professionals have access to more advice than perhaps any generation before them.

The information isn't necessarily the problem.

The harder part is creating a process for using it.

How do we help someone make the connection?

Have the conversation?

Identify what needs improvement?

Take action?

Follow up?

And continue building the relationship?

Those are questions I've been thinking about quite a bit lately.

I'm working on something designed to help young professionals connect, communicate and collaborate while taking greater ownership of their careers.

I'm not quite ready to share all of it yet.

But we're getting closer.

For now, here's my challenge:

Don't ask someone to keep you in mind this week.

Give someone a reason to remember you.

Stay Connected.

You Don’t Need More Connections. You Need Better Conversations (August 24, 2026)

The Gap on My Résumé Wasn’t Empty (August 18, 2026)

A Loss Left Unaddressed Never Stays in One Place (August 17, 2026)

An AI edited enhanced image of me

The Best Thing You Can Give Someone Might Be Your Time (August 12, 2026)

Stop Reinventing Yourself. Start Reintroducing Yourself. (August 11, 2026)

Today is the first day of classes at Spartanburg Methodist College.

You would think after more than 26 years working in college athletics, I would have the whole "first day" routine figured out.

Apparently not.

My morning got off to a slower start than planned because I couldn't find my black dress shoes.

I looked where I thought they were.

Nothing.

Looked somewhere else.

Still nothing.

Eventually, I had to stop looking because the clock wasn't going to wait for me.

That's when I remembered a new pair of Nike shoes our athletic director had given me. They were still sitting in the box.

So instead of the black dress shoes I had planned to wear, I opened the box, pulled out the Nikes and headed to campus.

Not exactly how I planned to start the first day of classes.

But while driving to work, I started thinking about how appropriate those shoes actually were for something else I've been thinking about lately.

Maybe there are times when we spend too much energy looking for the old shoes because they're what we've always worn.

We know them.

We're comfortable in them.

They're what people expect to see us wearing.

Meanwhile, there's a new pair sitting in the box.

And maybe it's time to put them on.

I'm not really talking about shoes anymore.

I'm talking about our careers.

Maybe We Don't Need to Reinvent Ourselves

There is a piece of career advice we hear all the time:

Reinvent yourself.

When you feel stuck, reinvent yourself.

When you want something different, reinvent yourself.

When you've been doing the same work for years, reinvent yourself.

When you reach a certain point in your career, reinvent yourself.

I've been thinking about that advice lately, and I'm not sure I completely agree with it.

Sometimes you don't need to reinvent yourself.

Sometimes you need to reintroduce yourself.

There is a difference.

Reinvention suggests that something needs to be replaced. That the person you've been professionally isn't enough for where you want to go next.

Reintroduction says something very different.

It says you've grown.

You've learned.

You've accumulated experiences that aren't captured by the title underneath your name.

And maybe people simply don't know that part of you yet.

When Your Job Title Stops Telling the Whole Story

For most of my professional career, explaining what I do has been pretty easy.

I work in college athletics communications.

I've spent more than 26 years in this profession. I've worked at different institutions and different levels of college athletics. I've written thousands of stories and releases, kept statistics, worked countless games, handled media requests, managed websites and social media, and done many of the things that come with working in athletic communications.

That is part of who I am professionally.

I'm proud of it.

But I've started realizing something.

It isn't the complete answer anymore.

Over those same years, I've hired people.

I've supervised interns and young professionals.

I've reviewed resumes.

I've conducted interviews.

I've made introductions.

I've helped people prepare for interviews.

I've talked with people who weren't sure whether they should take a job.

I've encouraged people after they didn't get one.

I've watched young professionals make mistakes.

I've made plenty myself.

I've watched relationships open doors that an application couldn't.

I've watched talented people struggle because nobody taught them how to communicate what they could bring to an organization.

And somewhere along the way, helping people figure out their careers became one of the most meaningful parts of mine.

That wasn't a reinvention.

It was an evolution that had been happening quietly for years.

I just hadn't necessarily introduced people to that part of me.

People Know the Version of You That You Show Them

This is where I think many of us make a mistake.

We get frustrated because people only see us for our current job.

But what have we shown them?

If everything you post is about your current position, people will associate you with your current position.

If every professional conversation is about what you currently do, people will associate you with what you currently do.

If your LinkedIn profile reads like a list of responsibilities from your job description, people will probably put you into a pretty small professional box.

And then we wonder:

Why isn't anyone asking me to speak?

Why doesn't anyone think of me for leadership opportunities?

Why don't people know I'm interested in teaching?

Why aren't people asking me about consulting?

Why don't people see me as someone who could do something different?

Here's the uncomfortable answer:

You can't blame people for putting you in a box if you've never shown them anything outside the box.

People aren't mind readers.

They know the version of you that you've given them.

If you want them to understand more about what you can contribute, you have to show them.

Not by suddenly declaring yourself an expert.

By consistently demonstrating what you know.

Don't Manufacture a New Identity

This is also where reintroduction can go wrong.

I've seen people decide they want to move into a different area and suddenly their entire online identity changes overnight.

Yesterday, they barely mentioned leadership.

Today, they're a leadership expert.

Last month, they weren't talking about career development.

Now they're a career coach.

That's not what I'm suggesting.

Your reintroduction needs receipts.

Ask yourself:

What have I actually done?

That's where credibility comes from.

If I want to talk about career development, I should be able to point to years of hiring, supervising, mentoring, networking and helping people navigate the profession.

If I want to talk about relationship building, there should be evidence that I've spent years building and maintaining relationships.

If I want to teach, I should be able to demonstrate that I've helped other people learn.

Your next professional identity shouldn't be something you manufacture.

It should be something your experiences have earned.

The Reintroduction Audit

If you've reached a point where you feel like your professional identity no longer represents everything you can contribute, try this exercise.

I call it the Reintroduction Audit.

It starts with four questions.

1. What Are You Known For?

Don't answer with what you hope people think.

Ask what they actually think.

If I called five people you've worked with and asked:

"What is this person really good at?"

What would they say?

Maybe it's communication.

Maybe it's organization.

Maybe it's solving problems.

Maybe it's developing people.

Maybe it's building relationships.

Maybe it's creating content.

Maybe it's leadership.

Whatever the answers are, write them down.

That's your current professional reputation.

2. What Else Are You Good At?

Now look beyond your job description.

What have you learned because you've spent years doing the work?

A veteran athletic communicator, for example, isn't simply someone who knows how to write a game recap.

They may also understand crisis communication, project management, event operations, leadership, personnel management, storytelling, media relations, technology, mentoring and dozens of other skills.

Your job title may tell people what department you work in.

It doesn't necessarily tell them what you know.

Make that list too.

You may be surprised by how much you've accumulated.

3. What Do You Want People Calling You About?

This may be the most important question.

What opportunities do you want?

Speaking?

Teaching?

Mentoring?

Consulting?

Leadership?

A different role?

Committee work?

Something completely outside your current industry?

Be specific.

Because saying, "I'm open to opportunities," isn't much of a strategy.

If you don't know what you want people to think of you for, they certainly won't know either.

4. Where Is the Evidence?

Now comes the test.

Look at your last 10 LinkedIn posts.

Look at your bio.

Look at your website.

Look at your resume.

Think about the conversations you've had recently.

Do those things support what you said in Question 3?

If you want people to see you as a mentor but never talk about developing people, there's a disconnect.

If you want speaking opportunities but never share ideas publicly, there's a disconnect.

If you want people to see you as a leader but your professional presence only talks about tasks you've completed, there's a disconnect.

The solution isn't to announce a new brand.

Start showing the work.

Your Experience Has More Than One Use

I think this is particularly important for people who have been in their careers for a long time.

At some point, experience has to become more than something we list chronologically on a resume.

It should become something we can give away.

The mistakes become lessons.

The relationships become connections we can make for someone else.

The failures become warnings.

The successes become examples.

The experiences become stories.

And the knowledge becomes something we can teach.

That's one reason I've become increasingly interested in career readiness and professional development.

It's also part of the thinking behind GetSET2Connect.

I'm not trying to walk away from athletic communications.

Quite the opposite.

I'm asking:

What can more than 26 years in this profession teach someone who is just getting started?

How can those experiences help somebody write a better resume?

Prepare for an interview?

Build genuine relationships?

Ask better questions?

Handle rejection?

Figure out whether an opportunity is actually right for them?

Stay connected with people after meeting them?

Understand that networking isn't collecting contacts but building relationships?

Those lessons came from athletic communications.

Now they can serve another purpose too.

You Don't Have to Leave Something Behind to Grow

This might be the biggest lesson I've learned from thinking about all of this.

Growth doesn't always require leaving something behind.

Sometimes it means adding another layer.

You can be an athletic communicator and a mentor.

A coach and an educator.

A marketer and a teacher.

An administrator and a speaker.

A journalist and a consultant.

Your professional identity doesn't have to fit neatly inside one box.

But people won't automatically understand all those layers.

You have to help them see them.

That happens through what you write about.

What you talk about.

What you volunteer for.

Who you help.

What problems you solve.

What questions you ask.

And what you consistently contribute.

Over time, the introduction starts changing.

Not because you've suddenly become someone else.

Because people finally have a clearer picture of who you've become.

Maybe It's Time to Open the Box

Which brings me back to those shoes.

This morning, I was looking everywhere for the pair I expected to wear.

The familiar pair.

The pair that fit the picture I had in my head for how I was supposed to show up on the first day of classes.

I couldn't find them.

So I opened a box and put on something new.

I'm still the same person.

I'm still walking onto the same campus.

I'm still doing work that matters to me.

I'm just wearing a different pair of shoes.

Maybe there's a career lesson in that.

Sometimes we're so busy searching for the version of ourselves that we've always known that we overlook the version that's already sitting there waiting for us.

You don't have to throw away the old shoes.

And you certainly shouldn't pretend you've suddenly become someone completely different.

But maybe it's okay to put on the new pair and let people see another side of you.

So here's the question I've been asking myself, and I'll leave it with you:

If I asked 10 people in your professional network what you're good at, would their answers match what you want the next chapter of your career to look like?

If the answer is yes, keep building.

If the answer is no, don't panic.

 Stop reinventing yourself. Start reintroducing yourself.

We’re Preparing Students for Athletic Communications Jobs That Don’t Exist Anymore (August 10, 2026)

When I started working as a sports information intern at Navy  in 1999, nobody asked me how well I could shoot vertical video.

Nobody asked whether I understood social media analytics.

NIL wasn't part of our vocabulary. Artificial intelligence wasn't sitting on our desktops. TikTok didn't exist. Neither did Instagram, X or YouTube.

The job was different.

And that's exactly the point.

More than 26 years later, I worry that we're sometimes preparing students and young professionals for the athletic communications jobs many of us entered instead of the jobs they're actually going to inherit.

That's not a criticism of students.

It's a challenge to those of us responsible for preparing them.

The Job Changed

Writing still matters.

Statistics still matter.

Accuracy absolutely matters.

Media relations, storytelling, historical records and institutional knowledge still matter.

But they're no longer enough.

Look at what can land on the desk of an athletic communications professional today.

Social media. Photography. Video. Graphic design. Website management. Live statistics. Streaming. Analytics. Branding. Crisis communication. NIL. Content strategy. Media relations. Artificial intelligence.

And sometimes all of that happens before lunch.

Yet we can still fall into the trap of giving students experiences built around an older version of the profession.

Keep stats.

Write the recap.

Update the website.

Post the score graphic.

Repeat.

Those are useful skills. But if that's the majority of someone's internship or student-worker experience, are we really preparing that person for what comes next?

I don't think we are.

Experience Isn't Automatically Development

This is where I think those of us already working in college athletics need to challenge ourselves.

We frequently tell young people they need experience.

I agree.

But simply being inside an athletic department doesn't guarantee meaningful professional development.

There's a difference between giving someone work and teaching someone how to work.

Did we explain why we made a communications decision?

Did we let them sit in on the meeting?

Did we teach them how to handle a coach who isn't happy?

Did they learn how to build a content plan instead of simply receiving one?

Did we let them make decisions?

Did we allow them to make mistakes?

Did we teach them how to fix those mistakes?

Did they learn how to communicate professionally when something goes wrong?

Those lessons are harder to put on a checklist.

They're also some of the most important lessons we can teach.

We Can't Complain About Readiness Without Helping Create It

I've heard versions of the same concern throughout college athletics:

"Young professionals aren't ready."

Sometimes that's true.

But I think we need to ask a harder question.

Ready for what?

If we're expecting a 22-year-old to arrive knowing how to write, shoot video, create graphics, manage social media, understand analytics, operate statistical software, communicate with coaches, handle pressure and understand emerging technology, where exactly were they supposed to learn all of that?

A classroom can teach part of it.

An internship can teach part of it.

Professional organizations can teach part of it.

Mentors can teach part of it.

But employers have a responsibility, too.

We cannot complain about the preparation of the next generation while providing opportunities that amount to little more than inexpensive labor.

If we want better young professionals, we need to create better places for them to become professionals.

Teach Them How to Think

Technology will keep changing.

The software we're using today won't necessarily be the software they're using five years from now.

That's why I don't think our biggest responsibility is teaching young professionals every tool.

We need to teach them how to think.

Why are we telling this story?

Who is the audience?

What does success look like?

What could go wrong?

What information are we missing?

Who needs to know?

What's the best way to communicate it?

What happens next?

Those questions don't become obsolete when a new platform appears.

Neither do curiosity, judgment, reliability, communication and relationships.

Those are career skills.

AI Makes This Even More Important

Artificial intelligence makes this conversation even more urgent.

Some of the tasks that once consumed significant portions of our workday can now be completed much faster.

That's a good thing.

But saving time only matters if we do something valuable with the time we save.

Young professionals need to learn how to work with AI while understanding where human judgment still has to take over.

AI can help organize information.

It can help brainstorm.

It can help identify patterns.

It can help turn a blank page into a starting point.

But it doesn't know your coach.

It doesn't know your student-athlete.

It doesn't understand the history behind a difficult conversation.

It doesn't own the consequences when information is wrong.

Those responsibilities still belong to us.

And teaching young professionals that distinction may become one of the most important things we do.

Give Them Something They Can Own

One of the simplest changes we can make is giving students and young professionals ownership.

Not just assignments.

Ownership.

Give someone a sport and let them help develop its communications plan.

Let them pitch a storytelling idea.

Have them look at the analytics afterward and explain what worked.

Ask them what they would change.

Let them participate in conversations instead of always waiting outside the room.

Give them a project where the answer isn't already predetermined.

Then coach them through it.

There will be mistakes.

Good.

That's part of development.

I'd rather have someone make a correctable mistake while they have an experienced professional beside them than encounter that situation for the first time when they're alone in their first full-time job.

Day 365

Here's the question I think every supervisor with an intern, graduate assistant or student worker should ask:

If this person spends one year working with me, what will they be able to do on Day 365 that they couldn't do on Day 1?

Not how many games they worked.

Not how many releases they wrote.

Not how many graphics they posted.

What can they do?

What decisions can they make?

What problems can they solve?

How much more confident are they?

How much better do they communicate?

What do they understand about the profession that they didn't understand before?

And perhaps most importantly:

Are they more prepared for their next opportunity because they spent this year with us?

If we can't answer that question, we shouldn't immediately blame the student.

Maybe we need to examine the experience we're providing.

The athletic communications profession isn't going backward.

Neither should the way we prepare people for it.

Love Leaves More Than Memories (August 3, 2026)

Today would have been my parents' anniversary - they were married on August 3, 1968.

For many people, an anniversary is marked with flowers, dinner reservations, and the opportunity to celebrate another year together. For our family, it looks a little different. My father passed away on October 1, 2009, so there isn't a card to sign or a dinner to share.

Instead, there is reflection.

As the years have passed, I've realized something I never fully understood when I was younger.

Love leaves more than memories.

It leaves values.

It leaves traditions.

It leaves examples.

It leaves a way of treating people that quietly becomes part of who we are.

As a child, I didn't recognize the countless sacrifices my parents made. I didn't notice the small acts of kindness, the compromises, or the daily commitment that held our family together. Like most kids, I simply assumed those things would always be there.

It wasn't until I became an adult that I began to appreciate what I had been witnessing all along.

And it wasn't until I became a husband that I truly understood it.

Marriage has a way of changing your perspective.

You begin to realize that lasting relationships aren't built on grand gestures. They're built on ordinary days. They're built on conversations after long workdays, choosing patience over pride, extending grace when it's needed most, and deciding—day after day—that your commitment matters more than convenience.

Those are lessons my parents taught me without ever sitting me down to explain them.

They simply lived them.

Dad has now been gone for more than a decade and a half, yet I still find myself wishing I could tell him about the life that's unfolded since he left. I'd love to tell him about my career, the people I've been fortunate to mentor, and the opportunities I've been blessed to experience.

Most of all, I'd want to tell him about Charlene.

I'd want him to know the incredible woman I married. I'd tell him about her heart, her strength, and the way she makes every day better simply by being herself. I think he would have loved watching us build a life together, and I know I would have cherished seeing the two of them get to know each other.

While that opportunity never came, something else did.

The example he and my mom gave me continues to shape the marriage Charlene and I are building today.

Every time we choose to communicate instead of assume, support instead of criticize, or encourage instead of discourage, I can see pieces of what my parents modeled years ago.

That may be the greatest gift they ever gave me.

Not possessions.

Not accomplishments.

An example.

Legacy isn't measured by what we leave behind on a shelf.

It's measured by what lives on in the people we love.

The patience we show.

The integrity we practice.

The compassion we extend.

The faithfulness we demonstrate when no one else is watching.

Those things don't disappear when we're gone. They become part of someone else's story.

Today, I'm grateful for my parents' marriage.

I'm grateful for my mom, whose strength has carried our family through seasons neither of us would have chosen.

I'm grateful for my dad, whose influence continues to guide me, even though our conversations now take place only in my memories.

And I'm grateful that Charlene and I have the opportunity to continue building a legacy of our own—one day, one choice, and one act of love at a time.

Love leaves more than memories.

If we're fortunate, it leaves people who know how to love a little better because of the example we set.

As I reflect on my parents' anniversary today, that's the question I find myself asking:

What kind of legacy will our love leave behind?

The Ugly Phase Is Part of the Process (July 31, 2026)

 There comes a point in almost every career when you wonder if you're making any progress.

You apply for jobs and hear nothing back.

You start a new role and suddenly feel like you know less than everyone else.

You launch a business, publish content, or begin networking, only to question whether any of it is working.

If that sounds familiar, you're not alone.

I recently read an insightful article from Korn Ferry titled "The Ugly Phase: Can You Survive It?" It describes the uncomfortable period between being a beginner and becoming proficient. It's that season when you've left the comfort of what you know, but you haven't yet reached confidence in what's next.

The article reminded me of something I've seen throughout my 27 years in college athletics communications.

Every successful professional I've met has gone through an ugly phase.

The graduate assistant learning to manage media relations for the first time.

The first-year athletic communications director trying to juggle multiple sports.

The coach taking over a struggling program.

The student preparing for their first job interview.

The entrepreneur launching a new idea before anyone knows their name.

No one skips this stage.

The difference isn't talent.

It's persistence.

Don't Mistake Discomfort for Failure

When things feel awkward, many people assume they're doing something wrong.

In reality, you're probably doing something new.

Growth almost always feels uncomfortable before it feels rewarding.

That's why the people who succeed continue asking questions, seeking mentors, building relationships, and improving one day at a time.

Confidence isn't something you wait to feel.

It's something you earn through repetition.

My Challenge to You

If you're in your own ugly phase today, don't quit because the path feels difficult.

Instead, ask yourself:

• What am I learning?
• Who can help me improve?
• What can I do better tomorrow than I did today?

Small improvements create remarkable careers.

Continue Reading

The Korn Ferry article provides additional research and insights into why this stage is so important for long-term success.

👉 Read it here:
https://www.kornferry.com/insights/briefings-magazine/issue-74/the-ugly-phase-can-you-survive-it

You may be in the ugly phase today.

That doesn't mean you're failing.

It may simply mean you're becoming the professional you're meant to be.

Day Two (July 28, 2026)

Day One at Spartanburg Methodist College

Day One (July 27, 2026)

 I love the parallel between these two events. One marks the beginning of a new athletic year. The other celebrates someone who has been part of your own journey. Both are reminders that the most meaningful things in life don't happen overnight—they're built one day at a time.

Today is Day One.

Across the country, campuses are coming to life as student-athletes move into residence halls, reconnect with teammates, and begin preparing for another season. Here at Spartanburg Methodist College, today marks the arrival of our fall sports student-athletes.

For many, it's the beginning of a college career.

For others, it's another opportunity to build on what they've already started.

Every one of them arrives carrying something different.

Excitement.

Hope.

Nervousness.

Expectations.

Dreams.

None of them know exactly what the next several months will bring.

And that's part of what makes today so special.

Today is also special for another reason.

It's my wife Charlene's birthday.

As I thought about welcoming a new group of student-athletes while celebrating another year of life with Char, I realized these two moments have something in common.

Both remind us that the best things in life are built one day at a time.

Every Journey Has a Day One

No championship begins with a trophy.

No graduate begins with a diploma.

No successful marriage begins with decades of memories.

Every meaningful accomplishment begins with a single day.

Day One.

Student-athletes don't become leaders because they put on a uniform.

They become leaders through the choices they make every practice, every class, every workout, and every conversation.

Relationships don't become strong because two people say, "I do."

They become strong through thousands of ordinary moments—encouraging each other, overcoming challenges, celebrating victories, and choosing each other again tomorrow.

The same is true of careers.

Your first day won't define your career.

But it will begin shaping it.

Start Before You're Ready

Many people spend their lives waiting for the perfect moment.

The perfect opportunity.

The perfect job.

The perfect circumstances.

Life rarely works that way.

Growth begins the moment you decide to start.

That's true for a freshman walking onto campus today.

It's true for a first-year coach.

It's true for a young professional applying for their first internship.

And it's true for every one of us, no matter where we are in life.

My Perspective

One of the greatest gifts college athletics has given me is perspective.

Every August feels like a fresh start.

New faces.

New stories.

New opportunities.

Every year reminds me why I fell in love with this profession.

At the same time, celebrating another birthday with Char reminds me that some of life's greatest accomplishments don't show up on a résumé.

They're found in the relationships we invest in.

The people who believe in us.

The people who challenge us.

The people who celebrate with us when no one else is watching.

If I've learned anything over the years, it's this:

Success is important.

Relationships make success meaningful.

Put It Into Practice

Today, think about your own Day One.

Maybe it's your first internship.

Maybe it's your first class.

Maybe it's your first job.

Or maybe it's simply deciding today to become more intentional than you were yesterday.

Whatever your Day One is...

Treat it like it matters.

Because one day you'll look back and realize it was the beginning of something much bigger than you imagined.

Reflection

Twenty years from now, what will you remember about today?

The tasks you completed?

Or the people whose lives you impacted?

The seasons eventually end.

The relationships often don't.

Welcome back to another year of college athletics.

Happy Birthday, Char.

And to everyone beginning something new today...

Make your Day One count.

You never get another one.

Stay Connected.

Success Leaves Clues. Start Paying Attention (July 21, 2026)

Today marked the beginning of another athletic year for me as the Assistant Athletic Director for Sports Communications at Spartanburg Methodist College.

Like many departments across the country, our coaches and staff gathered before our student-athletes return in the coming days. We talked about culture, expectations, and the year ahead.

One exercise stood out.

Each of us was asked to create a life timeline.

We identified the moments that shaped who we are—the victories, the disappointments, the people who influenced us, and the experiences that changed our direction.

Because of the size of the group and the limited time we had together, I wasn't able to share my entire timeline.

As I reflected afterward, I realized something.

My career makes much more sense looking backward than it ever did looking forward.

None of It Was Wasted

When I was a student at Columbus State Community College, I had no idea where the next 25-plus years would take me.

There wasn't a master plan.

There wasn't a roadmap that guaranteed success.

There were simply opportunities.

Some I pursued.

Some I missed.

Some I never saw coming.

Every internship...

Every late night at a sporting event...

Every mentor...

Every mistake...

Every difficult conversation...

Every championship...

Every setback...

Each became another point on my timeline.

Individually, they didn't seem life-changing.

Collectively, they became my career.

That's why I believe something I've heard for years:

Success leaves clues.

You just have to start paying attention.

The Clues Are Everywhere

One of the biggest mistakes young professionals make is believing success is hidden.

It isn't.

The clues are everywhere.

Watch how great athletic communicators prepare for game day.

Notice how they write.

Observe how they handle pressure when something unexpected happens.

Listen carefully to how they communicate with coaches, administrators, officials, photographers, broadcasters, and student-athletes.

Pay attention to what they do after everyone else has gone home.

Their habits are teaching you something.

Their consistency is teaching you something.

Even their mistakes are teaching you something.

If you're willing to observe, every day becomes another opportunity to learn.

Borrow Experience Before You Have It

One of the fastest ways to grow your career is to learn from people who are already doing the job you hope to have.

Ask questions.

Request informational interviews.

Volunteer at conferences.

Shadow someone for a day.

Read articles written by experienced professionals.

Study press releases, feature stories, social media strategies, game notes, and websites from departments you admire.

Don't copy them.

Understand why they make the decisions they make.

The best professionals aren't just producing content.

They're solving problems.

When you understand how experienced professionals think, you'll begin solving problems differently yourself.

My Perspective

Looking back at my own timeline, I can point to dozens of people who changed my career without realizing it.

Some were supervisors.

Some were coworkers.

Some were competitors.

Some were people I only met once.

Each left behind a clue.

Sometimes it was a conversation.

Sometimes it was constructive criticism.

Sometimes it was simply watching them work.

Those moments continue to shape how I lead, communicate, and mentor today.

That's why I believe mentorship doesn't always happen in scheduled meetings.

Sometimes it happens simply because you're paying attention.

Put It Into Practice

This week, create the first version of your own career timeline.

It doesn't need to be perfect.

Include the moments that have shaped you so far.

The people who influenced you.

The opportunities that stretched you.

The setbacks that taught you something.

Then ask yourself one question:

What clues have those experiences already given me?

You may discover that you're much further along than you think.

Reflection

Who is one professional you admire?

Not because of their title.

Not because of their awards.

Because of the way they consistently approach their work.

This week, pay attention to how they communicate, prepare, lead, and serve others.

Success rarely announces itself.

It leaves clues.

The people who grow the fastest are the ones who notice them.

Stay Connected.

Be Curious Before You Try to Be Impressive (July 20, 2026)

Why Questions Often Create Better Opportunities Than Answers

Most students believe they need to have all the right answers before they can earn an internship, land a job, or build meaningful relationships.

They spend hours trying to sound smarter, more experienced, or more accomplished than they actually feel.

But here's something I have learned after more than 25 years in college athletics:

The people who leave the strongest impression usually aren't the ones doing all the talking. They're the ones asking the best questions.

Curiosity is one of the most underrated career skills you can develop.

At First Glance

Think about the last conversation you had with someone you admired.

Were you trying to impress them?

Or were you trying to learn from them?

There's a big difference.

One approach focuses on yourself.

The other focuses on the other person.

People remember how interested you were in them far longer than they remember how much you talked about yourself.

Why This Matters

Whether you're interviewing for an internship, attending a conference, networking on LinkedIn, or sitting across from a hiring manager, curiosity changes the conversation.

Instead of trying to prove you're qualified, you're trying to understand.

Instead of trying to sound perfect, you're trying to grow.

That mindset immediately makes you more authentic.

Hiring managers don't expect college students to know everything.

They do expect them to be coachable.

And coachable people ask questions.

Questions like:

• What does success look like during the first six months?
• What separates your best interns from everyone else?
• If you could teach every new employee one thing, what would it be?
• What's one challenge your department is working through right now?

Those questions communicate something powerful:

"I'm here to learn."

That attitude is difficult to teach.

Confidence Isn't Something You Find—It's Something You Build (July 16, 2026)

Before I get into today's topic, I need to share something that happened this morning

I hit the snooze button on my alarm clock.

A few minutes later, I heard the familiar ding of an email notification. It was a message from my boss.

For many people, those are ordinary moments. For me, they haven't always been.

Throughout my career in college athletics, something as simple as an email notification or an unexpected phone call from a supervisor could instantly raise my anxiety. My mind would race.

"Did I make a mistake?"

"Did I forget something?"

"Am I about to be criticized?"

Those thoughts chipped away at my confidence over time.

It wasn't until I made a commitment to work on myself—through mentorship, counseling, honest reflection, and learning to challenge those thoughts—that I began to notice a change. Those same sounds haven't disappeared, but my response to them has.

That experience taught me something I wish I had learned much earlier.

Confidence isn't something you suddenly wake up with.

It's something you build.

One of the most common questions I hear from students and young professionals is, "How do I become more confident?"

My answer usually surprises them.

You don't become confident first.

You become confident because of what you repeatedly do.

Many people believe confidence magically appears after landing the internship, getting the graduate assistantship, or accepting their first full-time position. The reality is much different. Confidence is built long before those milestones ever happen.

It's built through preparation.

It's built through repetition.

It's built by keeping the promises you make to yourself.

Confidence Is Earned in Small Moments

Think about the people you've met who carry themselves with confidence. They probably don't know everything, and they certainly haven't avoided failure. What they have done is accumulate hundreds—if not thousands—of small victories.

They show up early.

They send the follow-up email.

They ask thoughtful questions during meetings.

They volunteer for projects that stretch their abilities.

They learn new skills.

They introduce themselves to people they admire.

None of those moments seem significant on their own. Together, they create a foundation that makes bigger opportunities feel less intimidating.

Confidence isn't built in one defining moment.

It's built one decision at a time.

Stop Waiting to Feel Ready

One of the biggest mistakes I see is waiting until confidence arrives before taking action.

"I'll reach out when I'm more confident."

"I'll apply after I get more experience."

"I'll introduce myself once I know more people."

The problem is that confidence doesn't come before action.

It follows action.

Every successful athletic administrator, coach, communicator, and leader has experienced self-doubt. The difference is they chose to act anyway.

Action builds confidence.

Waiting rarely does.

My Perspective

When I started my career in athletic communications, I didn't walk into my first media interview believing I had everything figured out.

I learned by preparing.

By making mistakes.

By asking questions.

By showing up again the next day.

Over more than 25 years, I've learned that confidence isn't the absence of uncertainty. It's trusting that you've prepared yourself to handle whatever comes next.

Even today, I'm still building that confidence.

Put It Into Practice

This week, identify one small action you've been avoiding because you're waiting to feel more confident.

Maybe it's introducing yourself to someone in your profession.

Scheduling an informational interview.

Asking your supervisor for more responsibility.

Attending a networking event.

Publishing something you've been hesitant to share.

Or volunteering for a project that's outside your comfort zone.

Don't choose the biggest challenge.

Choose the next challenge.

Then do it again.

Small wins create lasting confidence.

Reflection

What's one action you've been putting off because you've been waiting to feel confident enough to take it?

I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

Stay Connected

Confidence isn't something someone else can give you.

It grows every time you choose preparation over excuses.

Every time you take action instead of waiting.

Every time you prove to yourself that you're capable of more than you believed yesterday.

Keep showing up.

One small win at a time.