From professional sport to business: Lessons part 1
The reality of what actually carries over from sport into business. My opinion on the values of being 'attentive.'
When asked to compare my tennis career to life as a business owner, it's always hard trying to find the logic between the two. People make a lot of assumptions, both in the recruiting process and in life, when working with or as an athlete in business. Part of the reason I think it's important to talk about is that the more I go down the rabbit hole, the more I realise how little the two actually compare. In every instance of comparison, there's an exception to the rule.
For example, if you claim "the more competitive you are, the more likely you are to succeed in business," that could be true, but the more competitive you are, the more conflict you might cause with your colleagues. Or "athletes work harder so they're more likely to put time and effort into your business." Sure, but what if you work too hard, and not productively, risking burnout that impacts your entire team? Also something I've seen in athletics.
In reality, some of the laziest, most controversial characters I've ever met are athletes.
What does being attentive as an athlete mean?
I remember, years ago (circa 2011/2012 I think), I'd turned up to training with a group of players when our coach huddled us all round to hear the first drill. He told us he'd had lunch with Luke Donald's coach (the former World #1 golfer), through a mutual friend, and picked his brain about the way Luke trained. That year, Luke had become the first player in history to top the money list on both the PGA and European tours. His coach talked about Luke's attention to detail on every single shot, emphasising that "Luke strives to have 100% complete focus and attention on every single task at hand for as long as possible, until he feels like his brain literally hurts. Every setup, every distance read, every swing, every contact, regardless of the outcome, had to be with maximum attention."
Our coach then turned to us. "Your first drill is simple. I want you to go and play a short set, first to four games, and come back and tell me how many shots in those four games you didn't have 100% complete focus and attention on."
This was one of the hardest things I remember doing. Being so intensely focused on every shot, every position, every movement, that two pretty distinct things happened. First, I was sweaty as fuck. Clearly this drove a whole new level of intensity. Second, I completely disregarded the outcome and stayed entirely focused on the process at hand, meaning the outcome never really crossed my mind. My time was spent focusing on execution of everything I'd trained to do. Bob Rotella, the famous sports psychologist, talks a lot about focusing on "the process" during play, something I've always carried with me.
This mindset of being attentive shows up in business in many different forms.
It could be your ability to communicate with someone at work, making sure that during a 5-minute conversation, 100% of your attention and focus is on that one person. You can solve a lot, in a very short period of time, if you're able to do that. It often makes me question whether multi-tasking is actually productive or if it's just a dressed-up distraction.
Being attentive also gives someone the ability to solve a problem, or deal with failure, with productivity and process rather than pure frustration at the outcome. Looking at a fire and being able to say "this is what's happened, what are my options, let me focus on this solution" is very underrated. It can be as simple as taking your time reading an email, weighing the best response, and putting the right foot forward.
Emily's always told me "Andrew, don't be a sponge." A sponge is someone who soaks up information, nods along, but shows no curiosity, makes little eye contact despite being responsive. Starting to sound like a date you once had? You get the deal.
It's slower decisions, fewer open tabs, longer silences before you respond, and a willingness to let one thing matter completely for a few minutes before the next thing arrives. In a working world built around speed and the illusion of productivity, that quiet kind of focus is increasingly rare. And, in my experience, it's the single most undervalued skill a founder, an athlete, or anyone in between can build, because the outcome is almost always far greater.