You didn't stall becauseyou got worse.You stalled because you got comfortable.
Two days as my guest. Day one we find where your income stopped. Day two you find out what you actually learned.
"Enough is never your ceiling. It's just where most people stop looking up."
- Format
- Two consecutive days, in person, one-on-one
- Price
- $15,000, paid in full at booking
- Who Would Want This
- People looking to scale professionally and personally with one-on-one coaching
- Where
- Portland, Oregon. My club, my course, my lounge.
- Capacity
- Ten per year. Two days each, plus a week inside your business.
- You take home
- Filmed reps · a written playbook in your own words · a 90-day plan with dates · two follow-up calls · direct text line for 90 days
I climbed to four hundred thousand dollars a year and then I sat down for ten years.
Not because I lost my touch. Because I hit enough. Enough is a trap. It doesn't feel like failing — it feels like arriving. It cost me the most expensive decade of my life.
I know what you look like right now, because I was you. You're good. Everybody says so. Your last three years look like the same year copied over. You've stopped calling it a plateau and started calling it a good living.
Waiting is just quitting with better manners.
Once I realized my truth, I changed my life by changing my mindset. Within 90 days I had two seven-figure companies — and over the last few years I've helped hundreds of people and businesses scale the same way.
The promise: in two days I'll find the exact place your income stopped — and you'll leave with the words, the plan, and the dates that take the ceiling off.
Five things. Not two days of coaching.
The Audit
Two weeks out you send everything — 24 months of production, pipeline, lead sources, splits, three recorded calls or presentations, and a normal week on your calendar. I go through all of it before you land. You sit down and I already know where the leak is.
Day One — The Table
No audience, no phone. Forty years of scoreboard sitting across from you for a full working day. No slides. No group. No hiding behind a good question at the back of a room.
Day Two — The Rooms
Your biggest deals get made on courses, in clubhouses, and over a glass — and most producers are bad in those rooms. Day two you work a real room, full of real money, twenty-four hours after being taught how, while I watch.
The Reps — On Camera
You run your real presentation. I take it apart and rebuild it live. You run it again. And again. You leave with the footage of the version that finally held — in your voice, not mine.
The Receipts
A written playbook of your new language, a 90-day plan with real dates, two follow-up calls, and my cell for 90 days. You don't leave with a feeling. You leave with a document and a deadline.
Day one, we work. You sleep on it. Day two, we play nine and you find out what you actually learned.
The work, then the proving ground
The Work
He arrives cold. Dinner the night before is his own.
Breakfast at the club
Twenty minutes, no business. Phone goes in the car after.
The Scoreboard Doesn't Lie
Your numbers on the table, out loud. Where the money comes from, where it stopped, and what you were doing the year it stopped.
You Before the Pitch
Nobody buys from a listing presentation. They buy from a person. How you enter a room, how you take up space, the drama that's costing you deals you never knew you lost.
Working lunch
Keep the momentum.
Read Anyone in the Room
The Three Variables — agreeableness, selfishness, desperation — read in ninety seconds. The Platinum Rule. The three types of third wheels, and a different play for each.
Control the Sale
On camera. You present. I become every hard customer you've ever had. I stop you where it breaks, rebuild the language in your words, and run it again until it holds.
God Speak & the Inception Close
Clarity as a weapon, then the close you'll use the rest of your career — written against your actual objections, from your actual recordings.
Back to the hotel. Alone.
No dinner together. Sit with what we did. Write one page: what you already knew, what you didn't, and the question you're afraid to ask me.
The Proving Ground
Day two is the exam — not the reward.
Breakfast — the page
You read me what you wrote. Then you ask the question. The highest-value hour of the two days, and it only exists because you slept on it.
The Ninety Days
Written and signed. Three moves, not thirty. What starts Monday, what stops Monday, and the number you're reporting on Day 30.
Nine holes: the exam
I read you the way your customers read you every week. Then I walk you up to real members with real money and step back and watch.
Lunch at the club — the debrief
Every read, out loud. Then we fix one thing about how you sit at a table with people who have more money than you do.
The lounge — the Charge
Dinner, a good glass, no agenda. We're done working. This is the hour you'll tell people about a year from now.
The night alone is the mechanism. I'm not buying you dinner on day one — go sit with what we did, and bring me the question you're afraid to ask.
- ✦Already producing — closing deals, earning commission, not theorizing about it
- ✦Has made roughly the same income three years running and quietly knows it
- ✦Can write a $15,000 check without asking anybody's permission
- ✦Can clear two days and get on a plane, which is itself a test
- ✦Is done being the best-kept secret in their market
- —Beginners. If you've never closed, this isn't your rung — get the book.
- —Anybody looking for leads, a script to copy, or a hack.
- —Anybody who needs a spouse, broker, or partner to approve the spend.
- —Anybody who wants a guaranteed number.
- —Anybody who can't carry themselves in my club.
One deal. Maybe two.
What's your average commission check? This costs you one deal. Maybe two.
You've done the same number three years running. Give it three more at that number — then this cost you nothing, because you were staying flat anyway.
Or one thing changes and you do two extra deals a year for the next ten. Run that number.
One of us thinks this is expensive. The other one is just early.
I won't promise you a number. Anybody who promises you a number is selling you something.
Here's what I'll promise: by the end of day one you'll know exactly where your income stopped and why, and you'll have the words to fix it written down in your own language. If we get to seven o'clock on day one and you tell me straight that you got nothing — I'll shake your hand, give back every dollar, and pay for your flight home.
In forty years I've never met a producer who couldn't find the leak once somebody made him look at it.
How the two days actually run
- ✦You come to Portland. The club and the lounge are the product.
- ✦Golf season runs roughly May–September; October–April we swap the course for the clubhouse and lounge.
- ✦You book your own flight and hotel — three nights.
- ✦I cover everything at the club: both breakfasts, guest fees, cart, both lunches, dinner, the lounge.
- ✦Dress code and guest rules go out a week before, with the club's policy attached.
- ✦Clubs: bring yours or I arrange rentals in advance.
- ✦You come alone. No spouse, no partner, no ride-alongs.
- ✦Day one dinner is your own. Non-negotiable.
- ✦Nothing to drink until the 90-day plan is signed on day two.
- ✦One reschedule with 21 days' notice. No refunds inside 21 days.
"Fifteen thousand for two days?"
It's not two days. It's two weeks of me inside your business before you land, two days as my guest, and ninety days on my phone. Nobody pays a surgeon by the hour.
"Can we do it in one day for less?"
No, and the night in between is the reason. If you fly home two hours after day one, you'll have talked yourself out of half of it by the time you land.
"Can we just do it over Zoom?"
No. I have to watch you play a bad lie and walk into a room full of people with money. Zoom is where you keep your armor on.
"Is the golf really necessary?"
Where do the biggest deals in your market get made — your office, or a course? Day one I teach you the room. Day two I put you in one and watch.
"I can't be off the phone for two days."
Then we found something. You've built a business that can't run forty-eight hours without you, and you're calling that success.
"Let me think about it."
Fair. What's different about next year? Name one thing. If you can name it, go do it. If you can't, that's your answer.
Ten a year. Apply for one.
This isn't a checkout. You apply, we get twenty minutes on the phone, and I tell you straight whether it's your rung. Half of these calls end with me pointing someone at the book instead.