Surreal Entrepreneur

I remember as a child, maybe 5 or 6, living in a small split level house in Charlotte, NC, there was a basketball hoop in my front driveway. It was the only other basketball hoop in the neighborhood except for a hoop down the gently sloping hill and around a curve in one of the cul-de-sacs. Every so often, several kids from the neighborhood would congregate at my house to play basketball and of course, most of them were older, taller, and stronger than I was.

This distinct memory that comes to mind is being knocked down by a kid probably twice my age and size during a friendly game. Although I don’t really remember his face, I remember the distinct look of instant remorse as he realized he’d been too aggressive with a small child. My memory ends there, but I can guess that I probably writhed around on the ground clutching whatever limb had been scraped or knocked, probably crying a mixture of tears half pain and half for sympathy. This wasn’t the first time I’d been roughed up trying to fit in with the older kids and certainly wouldn’t be my last.

I do remember my dad’s reaction to this whole ordeal. It was partially cajoling, but partially stern. If you’ve had a chance to meet my father, you’d probably identify him as a jovial, gets-along-with-everybody kind of guy. Always willing to provide anyone with a helping hand (sometimes more willing than others) and most of the time there with a ready smile.

He would pick me up, brush me off, wipe tears off of my face, examine the damage, and depending on the level of harm he would most likely encourage me to keep playing. I’m sure at times I would run back into the game in a fit of rage trying to prove that I’m not just another little guy. I’m sure there were times that I would get upset and run into the house to see if mom’s sympathy tank was still full. But he always gave me the option to get back in the game.

I also remember using a little bouncy rubber ball to practice dribbling, him standing over me coaching me saying “Head up, butt down”. Head up to watch the defender, and butt down to better move laterally.

It hasn’t been until now, shortly after my 26^th father’s day that I’ve put the pieces together of what may be a coincidence, but I believe was a calculated lesson my father was teaching me. I’ve never considered myself to be “the little guy”. I’ve always walked into a situation that should be obviously overwhelming, believing that I have what it takes to conquer any giant, be it a 5’2” 12 year old, or a $100,000 website.

Not only did he teach me to fearlessly approach the big obstacles, but he taught me to take a fall, get back up, charge back into the fight, and if all else fails work my tail off practicing and learning about how to do it better next time. These are some of the skills that I can say have been most valuable in my professional life, and I can directly trace them back to my Dad teaching me these lessons as well as the rest of my family.

Recently I’ve been caught up in a whirlwind, building a professional life, trying to balance a social life, attempting to move all around the world, but there isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not thankful for the people (not just family) that raised me to be the man I am today. Although I don’t express it, and sometimes I fail to recognize the blessings I’ve received, I cannot be more appreciative of the people, failures, and successes that have made me who I am. I’m sorry this came late, but happy father’s day.