I have a tendency to be too serious. It’s not always easy for me to relax and just lay around. When I take time to reflect why, it’s likely because keeping busy and being productive is what has helped me be somewhat successful to date. I’ve also always lived with a bit of a chip on my shoulder. This may be because of where I came from, but it could also be some deep-rooted insecurity making me want to outwork everyone or prove everyone wrong. I don’t even know who “everyone” is. Weird, huh?

A few weeks ago, after I put out a blog post, my wife told me to lighten up. She said the posts don’t always need to be so serious and I should make sure I show the side of me that still knows how to have fun. She’s probably right. Don’t tell her I said that. Sometimes I get so caught up in providing a life lesson, I don’t share the side of me that’s still a kid at heart.

Much of the fun-loving person I can be says completely inappropriate things I don’t necessarily need to share in writing, but the part I do love to share is my affinity of putting together a good costume. Fortunately for me, my wife has the same affinity. And no, for those of you that just had your mind wander to a freaky place, I’m really talking about costumes.

Since I was in college, I’ve always been down for a good costume party. Be it for Halloween, a Christmas party, or one of the greatest spectacles in the world, Bay to Breakers in San Francisco, people could count on me to show up ready to roll. Yes, I have looked and behaved like a total maniac at times, but I don’t care. It’s worth it.

So the point of this post is pretty simple. I grew up having fun being a kid and playing sports. Competitive athletics (not beer leagues) ended with my last football game in college against Central Michigan University. Just because I don’t get to be a kid anymore or play kid games on a daily basis, doesn’t mean I don’t get to have fun. So the next time there’s a costume party and you don’t feel like dressing up, remember, it’s not everyday you can still be a kid, so don’t squander the opportunity.

Here are a few of my favorites:

The irony of Yogi Berra passing away nearly a month before Michigan lost the way they did to Michigan State is almost poetic. The dust has settled now, more games have gone by, but the wounds are still deep.

One of the greatest baseball players of all time had a way with words and they were never truer than they were on a cool night in mid-October, 2015.

“It Ain’t Over, Til It’s Over” ~ Yogi Berra

I love college football more than I can convey in a blog post. I love the time of year. I love College Gameday on ESPN. I love the build up to the big games. I love how it’s on from early morning until late at night every single Saturday. There’s not much I don’t love about college football, less the fact I still have a hard time getting out of bed due to a back injury I sustained while playing it. I can go on for days.

The game teaches us about life in hidden ways, but also in blatant, cold ways. It was like getting hit with a brick when Michigan had the game “won” with 10 seconds left on the clock. All they needed to do was get a routine play off and the game was theirs, but it exploded like the Hindenburg. Suddenly, MSU had a convoy of players in a sea of white running the other way toward the end zone. Everyone watching the event live, or viewing the highlight later, couldn’t believe what they saw. I’ve been around football my entire life and seen a lot of craziness, but I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anything quite like what happened that night. MSU won the game as the clock struck 0:00. Then, it was over, for real.

With 10 seconds to go, my wife, who graduated from MSU and bleeds green, was already in the kitchen cleaning up, disgusted at the performance of her beloved Spartans. She had given up on the game. My brother-in-law (a Michigan die-hard fan) and sister-in-law were getting ready to head back to their place for the night and I, holding onto my son in front of the TV, have to admit, even thought it was over. Then, lightning in a bottle.

Many people have been armchair quarterbacks and second-guessed the decision of the Great Jim Harbaugh not to run another play and possibly get a first down. I’ve seen several of the pundits’ comments; many have never put on a pair of shoulder pads. The fact is that the game wasn’t lost on the final play. It’s just the play everyone will remember for years to come. People have forgotten the punter had an 80-yard punt earlier in the game and gave MSU a long field most of the night. Sure, he made a mistake, but without him, MSU may have been ahead. Who knows? Connor Cook threw for over 300 yards against the best pass defense in the country. It’s a good thing they had a long field all night.

People on Twitter bashing the young man for “losing the game” have major issues and likely don’t know much about what it takes to strap on a helmet. Sure, you never want to leave your destiny in the hands of a kicker or punter, but there’s more to the game than the final play.

Stating the lesson here would be too obvious. Yogi already took care of that. I’ve had many conversations throughout the week and can still hardly believe what happened. The word WOW is representative and the one I’ve seen and heard most. The end of that game is just another example of why I, and so many other people in this country, love college football. It’s more than a game; it’s a reflection of life. Thanks for the reminder, Yogi!

THE REGION. If I’m going to write about my experiences, there’s no better place to start than where I grew up. For those unfamiliar, the Region is the Northwest corner of Indiana, just South of Chicago. It’s a place very well described by one word: grit, both literally and figuratively. Literally because it’s a region of the country with a history of significant steel production; figuratively because it’s deeply instilled in the people from there. Because of that, I was very proud when we, in our company, decided to have the term grit included in one of our core values. It’s a value that can take you a long way in life; and something we look for in every person we hire.

Example conversation from the Region link above: Arlington Heights, IL kid to a Region kid (Hammond, IN) at Indiana University

Arlington Heights Kid: Where you from?

Hammond Kid: Chicago

Arlington Heights Kid: Oh yeah me too, where near Chicago?

Hammond Kid: The Region

Arlington Heights Kid: What? Wait, that’s in Indiana, you can’t say you’re from Chicago.

Hammond Kid: Look motherfucker, if the Chicago Tribune says I’m from Chicago, I’m from Chicago!

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Mine is a tale of two cities in the Region. I spent the first thirteen years of my life in Hammond, Indiana, an urban suburb of Chicago, where many people I grew up around were tied directly to the mills or the trades associated. Hammond was a microcosm of the country. There were haves and have nots, White, Black, Hispanic, and Asian people, along with every religion imaginable. I loved growing up in Hammond. It was there where my sports obsession began. Being so close to Chicago and growing up during the time of the ’85 Bears, Ditka, and the Jordan era, what sports-infatuated kid wouldn’t have loved it?

When I was midway through my eighth grade school year, my parents decided to move South about 25 miles to Lowell, Indiana. It was still a part of the Region, but couldn’t have been more different than Hammond. Everyone was just like me. There were White, middle class nuclear families in a town where people generally left their doors unlocked. The house we bought was on 10 acres of land. There was a farm across the street and I had to ride a bus to school. Needless to say this was a bit of a shock to a kid that had only ever been on a bus for field trips because I could walk to school my whole life. Interestingly enough, although it couldn’t have been more different, I loved Lowell too. The people there were very welcoming to a kid from Hammond some may not have been too sure about. It certainly didn’t hurt being a decent three-sport athlete in a town that loved to root on their Red Devils. I like to say I was raised in Hammond, grew up in Lowell, but am from the Region.

I’m so fond of where I’m from that when people ask me, I wear it as a badge of honor, “A place called the Region, near Chicago” is where I typically start. By living in both Hammond and Lowell, I was fortunate to learn about different types of people from a variety of social classes and backgrounds. That childhood experience accelerated my ability to adapt in both my collegiate and professional career with a sense of toughness, tolerance and understanding I couldn’t possibly have gotten by only living in only one place or the other. I have to thank my parents for that one. They were  unaware at the time, but both places had a significant impact on me.

Enough about me. The point of this post is where you’re from plays an important role in the person you become. Next to your parents, it may be the single largest influence on who you are and what you’re made of. But at some point, you’re on your own and have to produce. Whether the place you’re from is desirable or not is irrelevant. Whether you grew up with people that looked different than you, or the same, doesn’t really matter any longer. That goes for whether you played sports or not, if you went to Harvard or not. Your background matters to an extent and it may help you land an interview for your first job, but in the end your production counts.

My college football coach said something all the time that sticks with me to this day. He said, “No matter where you are, if you do something well enough for long enough, people will find you.” You have to continually produce. How else can we explain someone from West Texas earning a scholarship to Ohio State and never seeing the field; or someone from Nowheresville, Idaho showing up on campus at Oregon as a walk-on and earning a scholarship? People care about production. Of course there may be politics involved at some level and many people love to make excuses and use the phrase, “they play favorites.” One of my coaches had the best reply to that statement. He’d say, “Damn right I play favorites. My favorites are the best players.”

In sports, corporate America and startups, background matters somewhat. But give me someone that’s smart, went to a local State school and is willing to bust their ass, try new things, fail, learn and try again, and I’ll hire them all day over someone who’s entitled from the “right side of the tracks” and not willing to work hard.

My two business partners and I are all from blue collar families from the Midwest and went to State schools (Michigan and Western Michigan). We’ve seen a lot of people come and go in the startup game over the last five years. It’s a tough game and we’re certainly not guaranteed to be “successful” yet, but I sometimes wonder: Would I have seen some of the other startups come and go so quickly if they had more people from the Region, with a little more grit?