MDR: Mentorship, Discipline, and Relationships

My first mentor was my first soccer coach.  Gary Freed.

I've thought about him often over the years.  He was the person who instilled the love of the sport in him when he was a 6-year-old. 

Another mentor, again from my pre-teen years, was Lisa Gress.  Lisa and her brother, Tim, coached “Dairy Bowl.”  My dairy farm readers might know what that program is.  For those who don’t imagine Academic Challenge, but all about Cows!!

One of the impressive things about Lisa and Tim is that they didn’t have any connection to the individuals they coached. Unlike Coach Freed, whose son Seth was my team and classmate, they were both single, had no kids, and were in their 20s.  

Yet they volunteered to mentor kids from 8 to 18, for free.  Not getting paid, and opening up their parents' home to host the biweekly practices.

Another mentor, Dr Jim Dittoe.

He was our regular farm veterinarian and family friend, who happened to be a student of my dad’s while at THE Ohio State University…OH-

Because of his impact, I had aspirations of being a veterinarian myself.  So when I was 9, I asked him if I could shadow him.

Which meant on days I didn't have chores, soccer games, or school, I would ride with him as he visited farms and provided veterinary care for animals.

I did this for 10 years.

These three mentors impacted my life more than they probably know.

I played soccer for decades because of Gary.  A sport I shared with each of my kids and still love to this day, because of what he taught me 40 years ago.

Lisa and Tim guided me to win my first national championship, the 4-H National Dairy Bowl Contest in Louisville, Kentucky, in the early 90s.

In my early 20s, I would drive nearly 3 hrs one way to coach dairy bowl teams in California.  To mentor, guide, and inspire other kids to learn about cows and the dairy industry, and love to compete, like Lisa and Tim did for me.  

And Jim. 

Jim stood by me through the hardest of days.  He was the first person to come to our house the afternoon my brother died.

As my friend Dave Christensen shared in our conversation, I wouldn't have done anything without the mentors who poured into me.

Those mentors modelled the discipline it takes to accomplish anything.  They showed up when they didn't have it.  For each that I mentioned, it wasn't their job; they did it for other reasons.

The Dark Side

My dad was a college football player.  Accomplishing something very few players at any level ever do.  The high school team captain and award-winning player started as a freshman in college.  Not at one position, but at two.  On offense and defense.

One of his college coaches, who himself had an illustrious coaching career, happened to see a story about my brother while he was in high school, sought my dad out, and shared this.  “You were the hardest hitting *&( I ever coached.”  For an undersized offensive guard and middle linebacker, it was the testament of giving it all you got.

So I grew up loving the sport as a fan.  I cheered for the heartbreak Browns, dying a little inside with each fumble or 4th quarter rally given up.

And I endured the pain of the lean Buckeye years.  I heard my parents extol the Woody Hayes years and National Championships.

My dad isn't one to curse much at all, but he had a bumper sticker on a toolbox in our barn equipment area.  A nod to the field “Up North,” “Even on grass, we’ll kick your ASS.”  A nod to the greatest rivalry in all of college sports, Ohio and Michigan.

But football never worked out for me as a kid.  In middle school, in a community I was new to, only having been at the school for a year, I was benched on the 2nd day of practice as a quarterback because I forgot the play.

My barely 5-foot skinny frame was barely enough to hold the oversized shoulder pads, and my helmet rattled around so bad on my head that most of the time I was simply trying to find a hole to peek through.

I’m not sure if I ever saw the field as a 7th grader.  Not much bigger than the year before my 8th-grade season, I remember getting to play one game against Clear Fork.  How’d I get to play that day?  I was so upset after one of my teammates got pulled from the game, and I didn't have the opportunity to play, that I started crying from total frustration.

So my coach put me in.

Clear Fork had a running back nicknamed “Deer”, because he ran as fast as a deer and was as big as a man.  Like maybe 5’10’ or 6 feet tall!!

Here I am, an emotionally frazzled and exhausted 13-year-old, just over 5 feet and 100 lbs, standing in my position, cornerback, ready to give it my all.

And here comes the Deer, running like his namesake with long strides and bounding leaps.

I had paid enough attention during drills and standing on the sideline to know one thing: when they are bigger than you, GO LOW.  So I did.  

I launched myself at his feet, actually grabbed them, but he fell forward for a touchdown.

My playing days were done. Why? Mentorship, Coaching, Relationships.

Even though I got in the game and my Coach gave me a high 5, I had the distinct feeling I was of no value to the team.

I lacked the guidance, mentorship, and encouragement I had received from others.  I wasn't the only one.  Granted, I went to a small school.  Of the 25 or so players on my middle school team, only three played as seniors!

Relationships

Mentoring is fostering a relationship.  It’s seizing the opportunity to give another person guidance and encouragement through relationships.

I recounted at the start of this letter the mentoring relationships I had early in my life, and then there was a gap.

My college advisor was a mentor, per se, but that relationship, while teaching me key lessons, turned into more transactional than transformational.

And that was most of my career relationships, which I can own, mainly because I was responsible for them…until.

Until the day I sought a relationship with a mentor.

The day I chose John Maxwell as my mentor altered everything I have done over the last 10 years.

As Coach Freed, Lisa, Tim, and Joe impacted my life, so has John.

His belief in me was what I needed in a moment when I wasn't sure who, what, how, or where I was.

His ability to speak to my beliefs made me see the person I truly am.  He has encouraged and supported me to grow and seek.

No matter what we do in life, the only thing that will matter is our relationships.  With that, we have the opportunity to show up or check out.

A Word of Encouragement

Over the last several years, I've shared much of what I did in this letter with Lisa and Jim.  But I've never had that experience to share with Gary.  I've often tried searching for him or his son, Seth, to share the impact he made on my life.

I just searched his name and found a number and an address.  So I'm going to call it.  I hope it's his number and he answers.

I look forward to sharing with him.

And with that, I encourage you to do the same.  Find that coach, mentor, or person who has made an impact on you and let them know.

Whether they remember it or not, I know it will make their day! 

The 4th Qtr

Before I blow the whistle on this newsletter today, I want to share two key opportunities to grow alongside other exceptional leaders in the IDL Community.

First up: The FALL Roundtable Cohort kicks off September 17th. For 12 weeks, we’ll meet weekly on Zoom—creating a space to strategize, tackle challenges, and advance together. If you’ve been looking for a strong team environment to sharpen your leadership skills, this could be the perfect season to join. Just hit reply, and we’ll explore whether it’s the right fit for you.

Looking ahead: The 3rd IDL Summit is scheduled for May 7 & 8, 2026. We’re already building the game plan to make this the most impactful and energizing Summit yet. Mark your calendar now, and watch for details on ticket availability soon. (And remember: Annual Roundtable members receive a VIP ticket!)

Did you catch this podcast? If not, listen to it here.