This is what competition used to look like to me:

That’s me in the red, nearly getting my face rearranged at the Executive Fight Night charity event in Tokyo in 2017.

I think that last one probably did move some things around.

I grew up competitive, playing just about every sport imaginable (and some we invented) in the front yards, streets, and driveways around my neighborhood. I played baseball throughout high school but never felt competitive in school. My grades were always good (until university anyway), but I had zero ambition to have the best grades or go to the best school. 

After eventually completing university I spent a number of years kicking around jobs, trying to figure out what I was supposed to be doing with my life. I had a degree in professional writing and was interested in film, but had already figured out that I wasn’t good enough, and almost certainly not lucky enough, to make it in that world. I wasn’t content to be a starving artist, so instead I was a starving retail clerk, barista, and waiter. 

Let’s speed forward: met my wife, moved to Japan, got a job with a Japanese company, did pretty well, got promoted, had a kid, had another kid, then the company went bankrupt in 2010. I knew I didn’t want to work in a Japanese company anymore, and a number of friends told me that I should give recruitment a try. 

Going into the job, I was skeptical. I didn’t view myself as a “sales” person. One week in, I knew I had discovered something that had been missing my entire career.

Turns out, I needed competition in my professional life as well. 

Competition always felt like something personal to me. It felt like something that happened on playgrounds and in driveways, not in school or offices. But when I got into recruitment I discovered a lot of like-minded people that were driven to be successful and weren’t shy in wanting to be the best. It was an immediate challenge that I had been missing.