Yesterday I spoke with a colleague whose son is a very successful sales manager. He shared with me that they were talking about ways that his son could increase the productivity of his team. The son thought that he should be tougher on his people, that they did not fear him enough and didn’t perform to team expectations and goals. He was wondering how he could be tougher and more aggressive so that they could hit forecasted sales for the next quarter. The only real obstacle to doing all this was that it was not really in his nature to be the whip-cracking sales manager he thought he needed to be. As I listened to Dad tell about this conversation, I thought, “Oh my God, this guy is living my story!”
Years ago in a sales galaxy far, far away, I was that sales manager the son was striving to become. At six foot two inches and two hundred and eighty pounds I managed with my size and voice, intimidating all but the toughest and most confident members on my team. My team hit their numbers or they hit the road. I used to tell that that I would help them all I could, that I’d help them be successful or help them pack a box and leave. After all it was their choice. I was just there to help! My team hit record sales numbers month after month and I was promoted up the sales management food chain about every six months. My career path was taking off like a rocket. Senior management only focused on the results. They didn’t see the three hundred percent turnover, the resources wasted on recruiting and training new sales staff, the stress and increased sick days on the sales floor. They never looked at the stress it put on me or the sleepless nights I had tossing and turning trying to tell myself I wasn’t really a jerk, I was just doing my job! It didn’t work. I was a record-breaking jerk.
One day I stopped by the cubicle of my top producer, a million dollar President’s Club salesman. I was telling him he needed to “pick it up a bit” and I realized that he wasn’t listening to me. I “informed” him that he needed to listen to me when he told me I could either go away or go get him a box and help him pack. At that moment I made the best decision I have probably ever made. I shut up and walked back to my cube and hid. I had almost run off the best salesperson on my team. I left early to avoid him and spent most of the night hoping he would show up for work the next day. I went to work and waited for him to show up. I prayed that he did not come in carrying a box! Talk about stress, I’m lucky I didn’t have stroke. Then I realized what I was doing. How stupid could I be? Answer: Pretty darn stupid!
That morning was a turning point in my life and career. I had been “motivating by fear” to get my team to produce. My motto was, “The beatings will continue until morale improves!” That day I started looking for a better way to accomplish the same results, but through inspiration instead of intimidation. I found coaching to be the answer to my prayers, my sanity, my self-respect, my needs and my desire to not be a jerk. I owe much of my success from that day forward to that salesman who told me to go away. Thanks Barry.
Nice, brutha. Great story.
Posted by: Mark Figart | September 03, 2006 at 02:06 PM
Sorry. Youth is a wonderful thing. What a crime to waste it on children.
I am from Marshall and also now am reading in English, tell me right I wrote the following sentence: "We are overall blunt companies and have distant popular titles."
Best regards 8-), Radman.
Posted by: Radman | September 05, 2009 at 05:15 AM