| I grew up with a father who turned every post-game car ride into a coaching session. These trips were—hmmm, how can I say this with sensitivity?— not highly anticipated father and son moments. In high school, I played football, basketball, and baseball all four years. That meant lots of games… and a whole lot of rides home. Each one became a highlight reel of my mistakes and missed opportunities, narrated with precision. My wife had a unique front-row seat to this ritual. We started dating when we were 14, and she often joined us for the games—quietly riding in the back seat as my dad delivered his critiques. She’d keep her head down and wince through the whole thing. And my dad was not one to change his oratory style, regardless of who was in the audience. My future wife and I made a promise to each other back then: When we have kids, we’ll never do that to them. We failed. |
| The Waxahachie Incident It happened after a baseball game in Waxahachie, Texas. It was hot as hell—on one of those turf fields that feels like playing on the earth’s molten core. Our son, who’s a catcher, had been roasting in his gear behind the plate all day. And to make things worse, pitcher after pitcher kept spiking balls into the dirt in front of him. He took several balls off his unprotected arms, and one found a path to his throat. Such is the life of a catcher. And his body language failed the test. On the drive home, my wife and I did exactly what we swore we never would. We recited every play where he’d given less than full effort. We gave him The Ride Home. We had become what we said we’d never be. Redefining the Standard Later that night, the three of us sat down. The lecturing was over. Our emotions were under control. For the first time ever, we had a candid conversation about standards. Because here’s the truth: You can’t hold anyone accountable—kid, parent, or salesperson—without first mutually agreeing on the standards, the expectations of behavior. We realized we were trying to enforce expectations we had never clearly defined. That wasn’t fair to him, and it was frustrating to us. So, together, we created a set of standards. Here’s what we came up with: |
From Youth Baseball to Sales Teams
I share this story in Construction Leadership Podcast Episode 473, and yes—our son (with low-key adolescent reluctance) joined the show to share his perspective.
But this discussion on standards didn’t stop at baseball. It led directly to the creation of a new tool we now use with sales teams all over the country: the Daily Play Call Sheet.
It’s a simple, powerful framework that defines what a winning day looks like—for sales reps and sales managers alike. It turns vague expectations and tribal wisdom into clear commitments.
Because high performance requires accountability.
And healthy accountability starts with clearly defined standards.
That’s what the Daily Play Call Sheet delivers.
| Reframing Accountability The term “accountability” often sounds like punishment. But it shouldn’t. Accountability is simply this: “Can I count on you to do this?” “And here’s what you can count on me to do.” Accountability, coachability, and coaching all rest on a foundation of agreed-upon standards. And whether you’re trying to help your kid improve behind the plate or lead your sales team out of a slump, the same principle applies: Start with standards. My sincere hope is listening to episode 473: Why Traditional Accountability Methods Fail—and How a Catcher’s Mindset Can Fix It Fast, in combination with the Daily Play Call Sheet, can help you and your team improve your sales performance and enjoy working with each other more. Listen to it on your drive home today and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading. See you next Thursday. |
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