High achievers, we imagine, were wired for greatness from birth. But then you have to wonder why, over time, natural talent seems to ignite in some people and dim in others.
Nancy Gibbs, author and presidential historian
MOST OF US THINK we know what our talents are. But identifying our talents isn’t always as easy as we suppose. In fact, we may be completely unaware of some of our best and most life-changing talents. I speak from personal experience.
I previously talked about how my passion for sports was ignited when I saw my first baseball game at seven years old. The day I signed my contract to play pro ball for the Philadelphia Phillies farm club, the Miami Marlins, Phillies owner Bob Carpenter gave me a piece of advice with which to begin my sports career: “Keep your eyes and ears open—on the field and off.”
So I drove from my home in Wilmington, Delaware, to Miami, Florida, where I reported to Andy Seminick, manager of the Miami Marlins. Andy had been a catcher with the Phillies in the late 1940s and early 1950s, and he was one of my boyhood idols. I was thrilled to have Andy as my first manager in the pros, and he made my time in Miami enjoyable and memorable.
The year was 1962, and we had quite a team, including a future Hall of Fame pitcher named Ferguson Jenkins. During my first season in Miami, I caught five of Fergie’s seven victories. I hit .295 that season and went 18 for 61 with two doubles and a triple—a respectable showing. I wore uniform number 29, which had the name “S. Paige” sewn inside the collar; my uniform had once been worn by the great Satchel Paige himself.
What I didn’t know at the time, and would only discover years later, was that there was a scouting report about me in a filing cabinet in the Phillies home office. That report had been filed by Phillies scout Wes Livengood when I was still a college player at Wake Forest. Wes had written, “Good receiver, adequate arm, poor speed, weak bat. His future is in the front office.” I came back and played the 1963 season with the Marlins, but it was clear that my boyhood dream of becoming a major league baseball player was slipping away. I had the passion to match the dream, but my level of talent didn’t match the intensity of my passion.
That was a painful realization to come to. Few losses hurt us more deeply than the loss of a dream. But even though I never made it to the major leagues, I’m grateful for the two years I had in minor league baseball.
My experience with the Miami Marlins in 1962 and 1963 laid the groundwork for the career I’ve had ever since. I can honestly say I know how it feels to ride the team bus on road trips, suffer the fears and insecurities of a professional athlete, and experience the highs and lows of competition. Many times over the years, I would sit down with a player and tell him he was being waived or traded—and I could honestly say I knew how he felt, how badly he wanted to succeed, and how much it hurt when the dream was crushed. Every leader needs a touch of empathy, and empathy comes from having walked a few miles in the shoes of your subordinate.
During my two seasons as a player, I followed Bob Carpenter’s advice to keep my eyes and ears open. As I saw my playing career winding down, even before the season was over, I asked for a position in the front office. So general manager Bill Durney made me his assistant. I did everything from selling advertising and selling tickets to typing up news releases. Bill taught me the sports business from top to bottom. I still went to the field to catch batting practice and help warm up the pitchers, but I no longer suited up for games.
All my life, from age seven on, I had chased my dream. I had always known what I wanted in life. But at the end of the 1963 season, I faced an unknown future. My boyhood dream was shattered. What should I do with my life? Teach? Coach? Something else? I was starting life over from scratch.
At first, I didn’t think I had any talent for sports management. I’d go out to sell ads for the Marlins game program, and come back empty-handed and dejected. “I’m a failure, Bill,” I said. “I can’t sell advertising to save my life.”
Bill told me, “Your problem is that you think you’re asking merchants to do you a favor and buy an ad. Pat, you need to change your thinking. You’re doing the merchants a favor. For just a few dollars, you’re putting their business in front of the buying public at every ball game. Advertising doesn’t cost—it pays. Selling is the key to success in any business, and especially the baseball business. If you can sell, you’ll always have a job in sports.”
Then he taught me how to sell—and once I acquired the skill of selling, I was on my way. After serving my apprenticeship in Miami, the Phillies organization moved me to Spartanburg, South Carolina, where I became general manager of the Spartanburg Phillies. After a few seasons in Spartanburg, I moved to the NBA, where I eventually became general manager of the Chicago Bulls, then the Atlanta Hawks, and then the Philadelphia 76ers, where we won an NBA championship in 1983.
In 1986, I undertook the biggest challenge of my career—cofounding an NBA expansion franchise in central Florida, the Orlando Magic. In the process of building the Magic organization, I used every bit of passion I possessed, every bit of natural talent God had given me, and every skill I had learned in the sports management business, going back to those early days working alongside Bill Durney in Miami.
Throughout my early years, I had been focused on one thing: using my athletic ability as a professional baseball player. It had never occurred to me that I might have talents and abilities that would be perfectly suited to a career in sports management. As it turned out, I had gifts for identifying and hiring talented players, for management and organization, for marketing and promoting, and for public speaking. So my boyhood passion for sports is as strong as ever, even though my playing career ended after only two rather undistinguished years in minor league baseball.
My greatest passion and my greatest talents intersected in the field of sports management—but I would have missed out on this thrilling five-decade career if I had not identified a whole array of talents I had ignored in my early days.
As you have been reading my story, I hope you have been thinking about your story. I hope you’ve been asking yourself, “What talents do I possess that I don’t even think of as ‘talent’? What are some of my undeveloped skills that just might transform my life and send me soaring to success? What are my ‘hidden’ talents—and how do I identify them?”
I’m glad you asked.
The Bear Bryant Talent Matrix
Paul “Bear” Bryant, the late, great head football coach of the University of Alabama Crimson Tide, once observed that there are four kinds of people: “Those who have ability [or talent] and know it, those who have it and don’t know it, those who don’t have it and know it, and those who don’t have it but don’t know it.”1 We can visualize these four kinds of people with a simple four-quadrant graph that I call the Bear Bryant Talent Matrix:
The good news is that you don’t have to remain in quadrant 2, 3, or 4. You can move to quadrant 1. You can know your talent and you can combine your talent with your passion and begin sprinting toward your dreams and goals. The matrix is a simple tool to help you visualize where you are on your journey toward discovering and leveraging your greatest talent.
If you have a passion for playing a sport, teaching and mentoring, starting a business, performing music, writing books, or some other field of endeavor that requires talent, the worst place to be is that fourth category—those who don’t have talent but don’t know it. Is there any greater disappointment than finding that the goal you’ve been aiming for all your life is completely out of reach? That’s where I was when I realized I didn’t have the talent to play in the major leagues. There were other people who knew I didn’t have a big league playing career in my future. Baseball scout Wes Livengood had forecast my career when I was still in college: “His future is in the front office.”
Phillies owner Bob Carpenter had read Wes Livengood’s report on me, and he knew I didn’t have big league talent, yet he gave me a contract to play in the minors. Why? Well, Bob was a longtime friend of my father’s, who had died just after I graduated from Wake Forest. So Bob gave me a contract as a personal favor. But more than that, I think Bob also wanted to give me some experience to prepare me for a front office career.
I had lived my entire life up to that point in Bear Bryant’s fourth category—those who don’t have the talent but don’t know it. Whenever we reach a point where it seems our plans have failed and our dreams have died, it’s important to ask ourselves the question I asked at that point: “Is it possible I don’t have the talent I think I do?” That question opens our minds to a whole range of possibilities we never considered before.
Once I discovered for myself that I wasn’t going to play in the major leagues, I moved from the fourth category to the third category—those who don’t have talent, and they know they don’t have it. Knowing you don’t have the talent to achieve your first-choice goals in life is not a happy place to be—yet reaching that nadir of disappointment can actually be the best thing that ever happened to you. That’s the point where you say to yourself, “I don’t have the talent I thought I did—now what?”
My dream was dashed—but I still had the rest of my life to live. My first career choice was gone, and I had never considered a second choice. What new goal could I set for my life? What talents did I have that I didn’t know I had? These are the questions we must confront when we encounter a roadblock in life.
Thanks to the encouragement of Bill Durney, I soon moved from the third category to the second category—those who have talent but don’t know it. Bill saw management talent in me that I hadn’t even discovered yet. He told me I had a bright future in professional sports. It wasn’t the future I had envisioned since boyhood, but in many ways, it was far better than my original dreams. After all, how many athletes get to enjoy a five-decade professional career in sports?
Bill Durney taught me everything he knew about sports management—and as I learned from him, I moved from the second category to the first: those who have talent and know it. Once I discovered my talent for sports management, I was on my way, and I never looked back. As a result, I’ve enjoyed an amazing and rewarding career.
I have been in all four squares of the Bear Bryant Talent Matrix. I started in square 4 and moved all the way up to square 1. Where do you fit in the matrix? Which of these four quadrants describes where you are today?
Now, there’s a catch-22 in the matrix: what if you think you have the talent, but you don’t? How do you find out what you don’t know—especially if you don’t know that you don’t know it? How do you find out that you really don’t have the talent to become, say, an actor or politician or major league baseball player?
You find out the same way I did: you pursue your dream with all the passion you have. You do everything you can to develop your skills and leverage your talent—and you see how far it takes you. As you pursue your dream, keep an open mind. Listen to your mentors, teachers, coaches, critics, and others who are objective and will give you the straight truth, even if it hurts.
Take a good hard look at your performance and your abilities. Don’t lie to yourself. Honestly assess your talent level and be open to discovering latent talents you never knew you had.
I can’t peer into your life and say, “Here’s your hidden talent, here’s what you need to do, here’s the insight you’ve been missing.” But I suspect there are people in your life who can tell you that and more. They can hold up a mirror to your life so you can see yourself and your many talents more clearly. No matter where you are on the Bear Bryant Talent Matrix, I hope you’ll take time to reflect on your life, gather the wise insights of a few trusted friends, and start making plans and setting goals for the rest of your life.
Whatever you do, don’t take one person’s word for it. One teacher, coach, or critic could be wrong about you.
Award-winning author Harlan Ellison studied creative writing in college in the early 1950s. Ellison had been a student at Ohio State for a year and a half when he asked his writing professor, Dr. Shedd, for “an honest appraisal of my worth as a writer.”
“Mr. Ellison,” Dr. Shedd replied, “you cannot write. You have no talent. No talent whatsoever. No discernible or even suggestible talent. Not the faintest scintilla of talent. Forget it.”
The brash young Ellison responded to his professor with a suggestion that is unprintable. That indecorous reply, combined with what Ellison described as “the lowest grade point average in the history of the University,” resulted in his expulsion from Ohio State University.2
Upon leaving OSU, Ellison moved to New York City to pursue his dream of becoming a writer. There he met author and editor Lester del Rey (who later founded Del Rey Books, the fantasy and science fiction division of Ballantine Books). Del Rey mentored and encouraged the young Harlan Ellison. Within a few months after moving to New York, Ellison sold his first short story to a magazine for forty dollars. During his first two years in residence in New York, Ellison sold more than a hundred stories and articles—and he sent copies of his published work to his old professor at Ohio State, Dr. Shedd. Ellison later moved to Los Angeles, where he wrote TV scripts for Burke’s Law, The Outer Limits, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., and Star Trek. His short story “The Man Who Rowed Christopher Columbus Ashore” was selected for the 1993 edition of Best American Short Stories.
All in all, not a bad showing for a writer with “no discernible or even suggestible talent.” So don’t let one lone critic persuade you that you have no talent. If, however, you are starting to hear a chorus of voices saying you lack sufficient talent in a certain field, perhaps it’s time to stop, take a look at your skills and abilities, your track record and performance level, and ask yourself: “Do I really have what it takes to achieve these goals? Or are my natural talents and abilities suited to a different goal?”
These are questions you must ask yourself—and they are questions that only you can answer.
Steps to Identifying Your Talent
My son Thomas earned a dual master’s degree at Seton Hall, New Jersey, in sports marketing and business administration. He was passionate about a career in the business side of professional sports. As part of his graduate program, he had to do an internship, so I offered to contact some sports executives in the Northeast on his behalf.
Randy Levine, president of the New York Yankees, called and told me that the team owner, George Steinbrenner, personally hired all interns, and all the internships for the coming season were taken. Mr. Steinbrenner and I went way back to 1972, when I was general manager of the Chicago Bulls and he was a minority owner. He became principal owner of the Yankees soon after he and I became acquainted. I was sorry to hear that the door was closed at the Yankees, but I knew that George would have helped if he could have.
The next day, however, Levine called back and said, “Because of your long association with Mr. Steinbrenner, he is willing to create a special internship for your son. Have him come to Yankee Stadium tomorrow, and we would like to meet with him.”
An awestruck Thomas Williams arrived at Yankee Stadium for a meeting with the top brass, and they offered him a paid internship in the finance department. Thomas had an enjoyable first year with the Yankees. He impressed his employers with his talent and work ethic, and he hoped the organization would offer him a full-time job. Instead, they offered him a second year as an intern.
Thomas called me and expressed his disappointment. “Another year as an intern?” he said. “They say they like my work. Why don’t they hire me?”
“Thomas,” I said, “just do it. You’re still learning and discovering your talent. Just keep working hard and doing everything they tell you, and I guarantee it will pay off.”
He agreed to intern for another year, but at the end of that season, the Yankees still wouldn’t offer him a permanent position. Around that same time, he heard that the Boston Red Sox had an internship available. So Thomas called up his ol’ dad and asked, “What should I do? I really don’t want to spend another year as an intern.”
“Thomas,” I said, “just go for it. This is your chance to show the Red Sox what you can do. Win the internship, and I guarantee you’ll be glad you did.”
So Thomas interviewed—and the Red Sox selected him. Thomas worked hard and demonstrated his talent. At the end of the season, the Red Sox offered him a job.
As it turned out, his first season as a full-time employee of the Boston Red Sox was 2004. And what happened in 2004? The Red Sox won the World Series for the first time since 1918. And because Thomas was a full-time employee of the Red Sox that year, he got a World Series ring valued at about $25,000.
Afterward I told him, “Thomas, most people working in baseball will spend decades in their career and never get within a thousand miles of a World Series ring. In your first season, you have a ring. An internship is all about revealing to you and your employers the talent and the passion you bring to the job. Aren’t you glad you said yes to those internships?”
And Thomas agreed that he was very glad. He went on to spend a few more years with the Red Sox, then he moved on. He has built a very successful career for himself.
Success happens when we take the time to discover our talent and pursue that talent with a passion. Ambition is good, but temper your ambition with patience. Take the time you need to discover your talent and to prove your talent to the world. There just might be a championship ring in your future. Here are some additional ways you can discover your talents and reveal them to others so that you can advance toward your life goals:
1. Ask yourself: “Where have I succeeded in the past?” Consider all of the areas in your life where you have done well, where you have accomplished something, where you have felt good about yourself, where you have been commended by teachers, coaches, and employers. What were the subjects in school that you enjoyed and excelled in? What subjects came easily for you and ignited your passion for learning? The ability to learn a task quickly and perform it with comparatively little effort indicates that your mind and body are “wired” for that task—meaning you have a talent for it.
What kinds of tasks and chores give you pleasure and enjoyment? What kinds of tasks do you enjoy doing over and over again? What tasks do you miss when you can’t do them? What kinds of skills and talents do you see in other people that fascinate you and inspire you to emulate them? What kinds of talents and abilities do your heroes possess? Ask yourself these questions. The answers are indicators of your area of talent.
Make a list of all of these areas and subjects in which you have succeeded in the past. They point to where you would likely succeed in the future—and they indicate where your true talents lie. You may find that you have never before considered a career in some of these areas. But once you have written them down, they become possibilities in your mind.
So explore those possibilities.
2. Ask people to tell you what talents they see in you. Select a few people you can count on to level with you for your own good—close friends, perceptive family members, mentors, teachers, coaches, and employers. Ask, “What talents do you see in me? If I were to change careers, what career do you think I might excel in?” Listen with an open mind and write down their answers for future reference. Note especially when you get the same or similar answers from several people.
If you know someone who has a track record for recognizing talent, all the better. Go to that person and ask him or her to give you an honest assessment of your talents and abilities.
A number of years ago, I interviewed Disney animation artist X Atencio, who helped animate such classic films as Pinocchio and Dumbo. Atencio, who was born Francis Xavier Atencio, told me he had spent nearly thirty years in feature animation, and he expected to continue animating until he retired. But one day in 1967, Walt Disney came to him and said, “X, it’s time for you to move.” And Walt sent him to the Disney division in charge of building attractions for Disneyland. “I didn’t know anything about building attractions,” he told me. “I was an animator.”
When he arrived at his new office, he said, “Walt sent me. What do you want me to do?” But Walt hadn’t told anyone he was sending X over to work on attractions, so no one had an assignment for him to do. X waited and waited, and finally Walt called him and said, “X, I want you to write the script for the new Pirates of the Caribbean attraction. We’ll have pirates and townspeople, and I want you to write all their dialogue.” X said, “Are you sure you’ve got the right guy? I’ve never written a script before.” Walt said, “I know you can do this.”
So X became a writer. He began by scripting dialogue for drunken pirates who were selling brides at an auction. He showed it to Walt, who said, “Keep going, X, this is good.”
Later, X came back to Walt and said, “I think the attraction needs a song that plays throughout. I’ve come up with a melody line and some lyrics, just to show you what I have in mind. But you should really put your songwriters in charge of the music.” Walt said, “Oh no, you’re doing just fine. Show this to George Bruns, our music director, and he will score it.”
And the song X wrote—a song written by an animator who had never written a song in his life—became world famous: “Yo Ho, Yo Ho, a Pirate’s Life for Me.” And X went on to write another classic Disneyland theme, “Grim Grinning Ghosts,” for Disneyland’s Haunted Mansion.
X Atencio had a passion for animation, for telling a story. He didn’t know that he was a scriptwriter or a songwriter until Walt Disney gave him the job. Walt identified talents that X didn’t even know he had, and Walt gave X the chance to discover those talents and put them to good use in combination with his passion.
Is there a “Walt” in your life who can identify undiscovered talents within you? What have others asked you to do that seemed out of your area of expertise? Next time, instead of saying, “I can’t do that; I’ve never done that before,” consider saying, “Sure, I’ll try anything. Who knows? I may have talents I’ve never even used before.”
3. Take a personality inventory test. Examples include the International Personality Item Pool (available at www.personal.psu.edu/~j5j/IPIP/), the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (available at CPP, www.cpp.com/services/professionalservices.aspx), and the MAPP career assessment test (available at www.assessment.com/). These personality tests can help you to understand whether you are an introvert or an extrovert, how you learn new information and apply what you know, whether you operate more on thinking or on feeling, whether you are more organized or more spontaneous, whether you are more cooperative or more competitive, and so forth. Armed with these insights and an increased self-awareness, you’ll be able to better understand the talents you possess—and the best ways to use your unique array of talents.
4. Be willing to try new things. The only way to discover talents you never knew you had is by doing things you’ve never done before. Take a class in painting, and you might discover you have a latent gift as an artist. Volunteer at a homeless shelter or afterschool tutoring program, and you might just discover interests, talents, and a brand-new passion for helping others. Join Toastmasters, and you might gain a new career as a public speaker. (By the way, I was scared to death of public speaking when I was in high school, overcame my fear in college, and I now earn a significant portion of my living as a professional speaker.)
Oh, and have you ever considered performing in the ballet?
Steve McLendon, a 320-pound nose tackle for the New York Jets (formerly with the Pittsburgh Steelers), has been taking ballet classes since his college years. “I needed like an extra credit or two,” he recalls, “and the first day when I walked into class, there were nothing but females in there. Then [the teacher] told me it could help me with football.”3 McLendon believes ballet dancing helps to strengthen his lower body, especially his ankles and feet, and helps him to prevent injury.
But ballet is more than a strength and conditioning program for Steve McLendon. He actually enjoys the dance, the music, and the discipline. His longtime ballet teacher, Stephanie Kibler, says that he works hard at mastering the artistry of ballet—and he clearly enjoys it. “I work him harder than the majority of women will ever work in a ballet setting,” she explains. “He does it well. He might have sweat dripping off him and looking at me like I’m crazy, but he does it. . . . He’s mastering the craft of ballet. He’s not in there just for football.”4
McLendon has also convinced fellow defensive linemen Ziggy Hood and Al Woods to join him at ballet class. After attending a class with McLendon, Al Woods said, “You think of ballet, you think of tutus and ladies jumping around and things of that nature, but after I actually did the class, I felt like I had played a whole football game.”5
So be open to new experiences. Always be ready to stretch yourself in new directions. Keep your eyes and mind open to new possibilities—and you might discover life-changing talents you never knew you had.
5. Pay attention to any talent or ability that you discover. We often forget how truly unique we are as human beings. There are many people who write books—but no one else brings quite the same combination of experiences and passions to a book that I do. There are many people who give speeches—but no one else brings quite the same message and style that I do. There are many people who work in the field of sports management—but no one else has the exact blend of experiences, insights, and abilities that I bring. This doesn’t mean I feel superior to anyone else in any of these fields—it just means that I am uniquely myself, and no one else is me.
You are uniquely you. Your talents and abilities make you who you are. And your uniqueness might well be the key to finding your most important talent. Ask yourself, “What do I do, think, or say that seems obvious to me, but others remark on?” Often our talent comes so naturally to us we can’t imagine it’s not that way for others—we don’t see it as a talent at all.
Catherine Gray is the director of training at The White House Project, a nonprofit organization that seeks to increase the representation of women in American institutions, businesses, and the government. She is also a leader, motivational speaker, entrepreneur, and filmmaker.
When she was nine years old, Catherine and her classmates were in a coeducational gym class. All the students, boys and girls, were to throw a softball as far as they could, and the distance of their throws would be measured. The class was divided with all the boys in one line on one side of the field, all the girls in a line on the other side. There were two tape measures laid out on the field, a shorter tape measure for the girls and a longer tape measure for the boys.
When it was Catherine’s turn to throw, she hurled the ball with all her might. It landed several feet beyond the end of the tape measure. So the teacher had her throw the ball a second time. Again, it landed well beyond the end of the tape measure. So the teacher led Catherine and the other girls over to the boys’ line, and all the students, boys and girls, threw from the same line and were measured against the same tape measure.
Catherine Gray’s story is a metaphor that illustrates what happens when we discover our talent and put it to good use. Until she threw that ball, she didn’t know she had that level of talent. Once she demonstrated her talent, she was able to place herself and the other girls on an equal basis with the boys. By unleashing her talent, she broke the barrier that separated the boys from the girls—and she has been breaking down gender-based barriers ever since.6
We all have talent, and we all have a part to play. When you and I discover our talents and put them to good use, we too can break down barriers and help ourselves and others become all we are meant to be. Whether you have a talent for throwing a softball, playing the violin, writing a novel, or peering into a microscope, make sure you play your part. Be uniquely who you are. Discover your talents and use them to the fullest. By doing so, you will help bring beauty, harmony, and justice to the world.
6. Always work hard and do your best. In 1934, a twenty-two-year-old writer named Arnold Samuelson graduated from journalism school at the University of Minnesota. The first thing he did after graduation was to hitchhike from Minnesota to Key West. His goal was to meet novelist Ernest Hemingway and learn all he could about writing fiction. He fully expected Hemingway to tell him to get lost—but Samuelson figured he had to try. Arriving in Key West, Samuelson located Hemingway and introduced himself.
Hemingway later said that he felt “both flattered and appalled” that this young man had hitchhiked all the way from Minnesota just to ask “a few questions about writing.” So Hemingway—who had just bought a thirty-eight-foot fishing boat named Pilar—offered Samuelson a job as a deckhand for a dollar a day. Samuelson jumped at the chance to become the apprentice of Ernest Hemingway. On one occasion, Samuelson asked Hemingway what it takes to be a great writer.
“Seriousness is one thing you’ve got to have,” Hemingway replied. “Big-time writing is the most serious business there is, and imaginative writing is the peak of the art. Another thing you’ve got to have is talent.”
Samuelson asked, “How can a man know if he’s got talent?”
“You can’t. Sometimes you can go on writing for years before it shows. If a man’s got it in him, it will come out sometime.”7
Samuelson would write stories and story fragments, then show them to Hemingway, who would offer his critique and advice. It became very much a mentor-apprentice relationship.
One day Samuelson asked Hemingway, “Do you think I’ll ever make it as a writer?”
“You are getting better. Much better. If you have talent, it will show up later. . . . Just keep working.”8
Arnold Samuelson spent the better part of the year working for Hemingway, questioning him, and learning from him. He carefully recorded a narrative of his adventures and conversations with Ernest Hemingway. But in spite of Hemingway’s encouragement, Samuelson never went on to a career in writing. The manuscript about his year with Hemingway lay undiscovered until years after his death. It was published by Random House in 1984 under the title With Hemingway: A Year in Key West and Cuba.
It’s a mystery why Arnold Samuelson never became a professional writer. He certainly seemed to have a passion for writing. After all, it takes a lot of passion to hitchhike from Minnesota to Key West in the hope of meeting a literary hero. Perhaps Samuelson lacked talent as a writer—though the quality of the writing in With Hemingway would seem to indicate that he did in fact have talent. For whatever reason, Samuelson’s only literary achievement was that one book, published years after his death.
But here’s the point of the story—the moral, if you will: it takes hard work to discover your talent. Hemingway gave Samuelson some very good advice: “If you have talent, it will show up later. . . . Just keep working.” Very few people discover their talent while snoring in a hammock. The harder you work and the more you demand of yourself, the more talent and ability you will discover. Hard work reveals talent.
As supreme commander of the allied forces in Europe, General Dwight D. Eisenhower ordered the D-Day invasion that proved to be the turning point of World War II. Eisenhower went on to become the thirty-fourth president of the United States from 1953 until 1961. But the world might never have heard of Eisenhower had he not worked hard and pursued excellence while rewriting a couple of book chapters that were never published.
During the late 1920s, Eisenhower worked for the American Battle Monuments Commission under the direction of General John J. Pershing. Eisenhower found it to be a job that didn’t challenge him, didn’t excite him, and didn’t utilize his talent and ability—yet he respected General Pershing and he did his work to the best of his ability. In 1929, Eisenhower was transferred to the War Department, where he worked as an executive assistant to Brigadier General George Moseley. In November of that year, Eisenhower’s old boss, General Pershing, contacted him and asked for help in writing his memoirs about World War I. He especially wanted Eisenhower to review the chapters on the battles at Saint-Mihiel and the Argonne.
So Eisenhower read the chapters and returned them to General Pershing with a suggestion that he rewrite them in a narrative style instead of a somewhat confusing diary format. Pershing then asked Eisenhower to rewrite the chapters in the narrative style and send the revised chapters to Colonel George C. Marshall for review. So Eisenhower rewrote the chapters and sent them to Colonel Marshall, who discussed Eisenhower’s work with Pershing.
After meeting with Pershing, Marshall visited Eisenhower’s office and the two men met for the first time. Eisenhower later recalled their conversation. Marshall, he said, “remarked that he read over my chapters. ‘I think they’re interesting. Nevertheless, I’ve advised General Pershing to stick with his original idea. I think to break up the format right at the end of the war would be a mistake.’ He remarked, rather kindly, that my idea was a good one. Nevertheless, he thought that General Pershing would be happier if he stayed with the original scheme.”
Eisenhower and Marshall would not meet again for more than a decade—but what Eisenhower didn’t know at the time was that George Marshall had (as historian Michael E. Haskew observed) “a keen eye for talent” and he kept a little black book in which he recorded the names of junior officers that showed extraordinary potential. Eisenhower’s excellent work in rewriting those two chapters—even though his work was never published—made a great impression on George Marshall. Years later, when General Marshall became army chief of staff under Franklin D. Roosevelt, he elevated many of the officers listed in that little black book, including such illustrious commanders as Joseph Stillwell, Omar Bradley, George S. Patton Jr., Walter Bedell Smith, and yes, Dwight D. Eisenhower.9
So always work hard and always do your best. Your talents, which might not seem like they are being put to good use this very moment, could significantly impact your life in years to come.
7. Hone the talents you know you have. By practicing the abilities you are aware of, you often discover other talents you didn’t know you had. You and I are capable of more than we know, more than we can imagine. We have talents—genetic advantages in certain tasks—that we don’t realize. And we have the ability to learn and acquire skills in areas where we don’t have a natural talent.
By using all of the natural talents we possess, we learn and grow, we acquire new experiences, we take on new challenges, we increase our confidence, and we discover we can do far more than we ever thought possible. By continually practicing our talents, we build so-called “muscle memory,” which enables us to turn a task we have to think about into an automatic response.
If you are an athlete, practicing your athletic talents may reveal to you hidden talents for teaching and coaching, interacting with young people, public speaking, organizational leadership and management, and more. If you are a writer, practicing your writing ability may reveal to you hidden talents for telling stories through filmmaking or acting. If you have a talent for creating wealth in the business world, you may discover related talents that can be put to good use in other fields—teaching young people how to save and invest, or providing fiscal leadership in a church or charitable organization.
If you consistently practice your known talents, other talents will emerge or be strengthened. And previously unimagined opportunities for success will present themselves.
The first step in finding your success intersection is to identify your talent—not just one talent, but the full array of your many talents. And that leads us naturally to the second step: finding your passion.