There are times in life when you pause, reflect, and think about what could have been.

I’m guilty of that more often than I’d like to admit. Some of those moments come from self-inflicted wounds, and others were completely out of my control.

Life moves fast. You either move with it or get run over by it. Because while we may enjoy certain things—jobs, lifestyles, routines—if you cling too tightly to what was, you’ll miss the train for what’s next. That’s just the game of life.

Life is shorter than we think. We cherish our youth, enjoy the journey, grow old, and ultimately die. It sounds a little sad, but Father Time catches us all.

As a kid, I wanted to do one thing: call sports. That was my dream.

In high school, a crazy set of circumstances led me to an opportunity to work for Mr. Mike Shannon and John Rooney in the St. Louis Cardinals radio booth. That opened the door to some incredible experiences—engineering NHL radio broadcasts for nearly every team visiting the St. Louis Blues, and even filling in for Trevor Nickerson on several Blues away games. I was traveling with the team when I was just 20 years old. I’ll never forget my mom insisting I get to the airport several hours early for a flight to western Canada—until I reminded her it was a team charter out of Spirit, and the itinerary said to arrive one hour before departure.

Those early opportunities led to six years of play-by-play in the Texas League, five more calling football and basketball for Southwest Baptist University, and eventually, the pinnacle for me: Division I hockey and football at Lindenwood. Every stop along the way, I met incredible competitors, coaches, and administrators. They fueled my desire to be great and accepted me as a teammate—something I cherish deeply.

I often think back to a speech that Peter King once shared from then-Dallas Cowboys head coach Jason Garrett about the unique ability to be a great teammate. It’s a phenomenal metaphor for life. Through sports, you experience nearly every human emotion—joy, frustration, triumph, heartbreak—and how you handle both wins and losses says everything about you.

I may not be calling games anymore, but I’ve found myself in a completely different arena — working in government in Washington, D.C. Whenever I share my story, people always ask the same question: “What on earth led you here?” My answer is simple—relationships.

The relationships I built along that journey led me to where I am. Relationships open doors to opportunities that might not fit your résumé but fit your purpose.

You just do it.

I was inspired to write this today because I’m feeling both sad and overwhelmed with joy. The Lindenwood hockey team—a program I feel deeply connected to—beat #5 Denver on Friday night. That’s incredible. So many people poured their hearts into making that win possible. I had a front-row seat for a full season watching that culture take root, and it’s something I’ll never forget.

The Cardinals have a saying: “Be where your feet are.” I try to live by that, though like everyone, I sometimes drift into thoughts of what’s next or what could have been. But living in the present helps us appreciate life. Through the ups and downs, we can still say we’re here—living on God’s green earth. And that’s a blessing.

My life has taken plenty of strange turns. I’ve self-destructed. I’ve rebuilt. I’ve been fired and reestablished. But you just keep going—and keep the faith that the plan might not be what you intended, but it’s still a plan worth following.

I’ve always believed that hard work creates good luck. Maybe one day I’ll find myself back in a broadcast booth doing what I love. Maybe not. That’s life.

Walk tall and carry a big stick. Stay humble. Be kind. Be a patriot. Life rewards that. But above all—be a good teammate. If you can do that, your soul will rest peacefully.

God bless.