Just because a senior leader is not attending every meeting, aren’t the loudest and most frequent voice in the room, or being the one to pitch the strategy doesn’t mean they’re disengaged or not contributing significantly.
When I started growing into management roles in my late 20’s, a regional manager called me about his local marketing campaign that was being managed by a member of my team. Milo was his name and he was frustrated, not because things weren’t going well but because he believed he wasn’t getting senior level involvement and support. Milo was a seasoned business veteran but also a bit gruff; he said to me: “I want to work with you, not one of your flunkies.” I listened to him, assured him he was in good hands but also smiled inside because what he didn’t realize was, it was me helping him. He just couldn’t see it.
As you move into greater management responsibilities, what may appear to others as you decelerating your pace and involvement is often just the opposite: you actually become more aggressive and involved just as aggressive but it’s just not as noticeable.
I played baseball with the fire of Tanner Boyle from The Bad News Bears. If the team was down a run, I wanted it to be me lead-off the ninth, get hit by a pitch, steal second and score from on a single to win the game. As I “adulted” and coached travel baseball I became more like Sparky Anderson, a legendary manager who was just as gritty and fiery and involved in the game as Tanner Boyle but in a more controlled, secondary way.
Now, compare this to business.
Leadership doesn’t have to mean being seen crashing into the outfield wall or delivering a violent spikes-high slide into second. Often, the most committed leaders are the ones not in the spotlight. They’re the ones building the gameplan, thinking 3 innings ahead, signaling signs from the dugout steps and putting in more hours than their players.
When I moved from being an individual contributor to a manager I needed to let go a little bit more of the day-to-day activities with each step of my growth. That wasn’t easy. I’d always been elbows deep in marketing, in the tactics and execution…a “business athlete” as I’d been called. But I had to build something more sustainable. Empower my team. Trust their instincts. Give them the at-bats. My role shifted from pitcher to pitching coach, hitter to hitting coach, and that doesn’t always come with glory. It comes with long hours, strategy sessions, and making sure your people shine.
I always did and still do roll-up my sleeves, dig-in at the batters box, work the count, slide headfirst into third. But now, I do it as a player-coach…partly on the field, mostly in the dugout. That kind of leadership means letting your people take the field, get the hits, and hear the crowd. It means preparing them with data, insights, scenarios, and supporting them in ways they never realize. And that’s okay.
When you lead, ego takes a back seat. The goal is the scoreboard. The legacy is the wins your team earns because of how you led them — not over them, but with them. Not every leader needs to be front and center. Sometimes the best ones are in the dugout, scorecard n hand, fire in their belly, making damn sure their team is ready.
