ABOUT
In 2008, I graduated from the United States Military Academy at West Point and was commissioned as an officer in the United States Army alongside 972 other cadets. While the majority of them were sent to war, I embarked on a different path — the NFL.
But the battle I faced wasn’t on the field. It was an inner war that pushed me to the brink, forcing me to confront burnout, broken mental health, and the discomfort I had long avoided.
Through that journey, I discovered something transformative: the courage to face what feels impossible and the freedom that comes with it.
But it wasn’t just about greater grit and resilience—it was about rediscovering the Power Of Play.
There’s A Reason Why My Neck Is The Size Of Some People’s Thighs. Let Me Explain.
The Short Version
Hi there! You might be wondering how a 6’2”, 240lb former NFL athlete—who once walked pigs on a Texas farm—ended up talking about rediscovering joy, curiosity, and aliveness. Let me introduce myself.
A Farm Kid’s Big Dreams
I grew up in the Texas Panhandle, surrounded by red dirt and big skies. Football was my ticket out and my way in: to belonging, to connection, and eventually to the United States Military Academy at West Point.
At West Point, I worked hard on and off the field, earning my place as a starting player, team captain, and only the second player in Academy history to be drafted into the NFL. For a kid from a farm, this was the dream.
But dreams don’t always come with instructions—or warnings.
The Game Changes
When I reached the NFL, I thought I had everything I’d ever wanted. The world saw me as “America’s Athlete”—a West Point graduate, Army officer, and professional football player. On the outside, it looked like success.
But on the inside, I was running on empty.
The relentless pressure to perform, the weight of expectations, and the fear of being exposed as not enough were all-consuming. I wasn’t playing the game I loved anymore—I was just surviving it.
And then everything changed with a single phone call.
Just as I was about to sign my first NFL contract, the Department of Defense called me back to active duty, effective immediately.
I went from football cleats to military boots overnight.
Relief Disguised as Duty
Here’s the part no one expects: I was relieved. The idea of leaving the NFL didn’t scare me nearly as much as staying and risking failure. Duty gave me an excuse to walk away from the pressure—but it didn’t fix the deeper problem.
When I returned to the NFL three years later, I was physically ready but emotionally bankrupt. I had the strength to play the game but not the capacity to handle the stress, fear, and constant need to prove myself.
It wasn’t long before everything crumbled.
My success wasn’t something to celebrate—it had become a burden to carry.
From Cleats to Mops
When I walked away from football for good, I left behind not just a career, but the only identity I’d ever known. Through a series of unexpected events, I found myself in Canada, working as a janitor in exchange for therapy.
From the outside, it might have looked like failure, but it was the best decision I ever made.
Rediscovering Play
In those humbling years, I realized something profound: the game wasn’t football—it was life. And I had been playing it all wrong.
Somewhere along the way, I had lost the joy, curiosity, and aliveness I knew as a kid running barefoot on red dirt roads. Football, once pure play, had become survival.
But through this journey, I learned that play isn’t just something we do—it’s how we show up.
It’s about living with energy, presence, and passion. It’s about reconnecting to the aliveness that gets buried under pressure, expectations, and burnout.
Because here’s the truth: we’re all playing a game.
For some, it’s the game of leadership. For others, it’s the game of parenting, business, or simply getting through the day. But somewhere along the way, many of us stop playing and start grinding—trading life-satisfaction for survival.
And the world isn’t slowing down. The demands aren’t letting up.
But when we rediscover play, we don’t need the game to change—we change how we play it.
Why I Do What I Do
Today, I share my story with leaders, teams, and organizations across the country. I help people confront the discomfort they avoid, expand their capacity, and rediscover play.
Because when you rediscover play, everything changes:
To play is to fully engage—showing up with energy, curiosity, and passion in every moment.
To play is to nurture mental health—creating space to recharge, recover, and reconnect with yourself.
To play is to overcome burnout—shifting from merely surviving to thriving with sustainable energy.
To play is to elevate performance—unlocking creativity, focus, and resilience to achieve your best.
To play is to transform culture—fostering connection, collaboration, and a shared sense of purpose.
If you’re ready to stop running on empty and reclaim your sense of play, let’s connect.
Leadership Expansion teaches leaders how to take burnout off of the table for good and access all of the latent confidence, brilliance and energy that has been buried inside them all along.
Next Steps
Keynotes / Workshops
As a West Point graduate and EX-NFL Linebacker, I draw from the deep well of my own personal stories around success, failure, loss and most importantly—my mental health and emotional wellness. They keynotes open audiences up through stories and prepare their hearts and mind to step into their own expansion.
Leadership Training
Designed around your organization’s goals, we will build workshops or training that result in leadership expansion throughout your executive or management teams. This is a custom-built plan designed around the work environment you’re seeing to create in your organization.
Leadership Accelerator
I only coach a few people at a time and for a good reason—because coaching takes space and energy and I want to devote everything I have to your transformation and healing journey. If you know you’re ready to move to a new place in your life, but can’t see the path forward yet, there’s a good chance we’re the right fit.