In leadership, you eventually face a truth that no book or training can fully prepare you for: sometimes you make a decision with the best of intentions, with the data to back it up, and with full confidence that it’s the right move—only to find out, painfully, that you got it wrong.
That was me this past month.
It was September 12th, and I was standing in a line of cars, waiting for a ferry to Lopez Island just 15 miles from Canada, so I could be at a wedding of a former player (whom I adore), and I just felt like I had let down thousands of kids playing soccer in Oregon.
You see, a few months earlier, I decided to bring our scheduling in-house. On paper, it looked like the right move. The numbers worked. The rationale was solid. The team believed in it. And we weren’t doing it to cut corners—we wanted to take greater ownership of one of the most important services we provide, improve efficiencies, and set ourselves up for long-term growth.
But the truth is: I missed the mark.
The rollout didn’t go as planned. For a few weeks, our service to members wasn’t where it needed to be. And even though that window was relatively shorten a calendar page, in youth sports a few weeks of disruption is enough to create frustration, stress, and doubt. Parents, players, coaches, referees—they rely on us for structure, and we didn’t deliver at the level they deserve.
That stung.
Why I Made the Decision
Decisions like this don’t happen lightly. I considered it carefully, weighing the potential benefits:
Control: By managing scheduling ourselves, we could tailor solutions and respond more quickly.
Cost efficiency: The huge financial numbers suggested we could funnel that money elsewhere while maintaining, or even improving, quality of coaching education, TOPSoccer, and scholarships for kids in need. In fact, cost was. major driver. Our scheduler is fantastic, and there was never doubt about quality.
Long-term growth: Bringing scheduling in-house seemed like a way to scale for the future.
On paper, it all made sense. But real life has a way of exposing what spreadsheets can’t capture.
Where It Went Wrong
Despite planning and preparation, the reality of in-house scheduling proved more challenging than expected. Processes that looked simple in theory became complex in practice. Communication lagged. Our ability to meet the needs of members—families, coaches, referees—slipped, even if only for a short stretch of time.
In our line of work, service is everything. People don’t experience our intentions; they experience the outcomes. And the outcome, in this case, wasn’t good enough.
Taking Accountability
When something goes wrong, often the question is simple: Who’s responsible?
The answer is me.
Our team worked tirelessly and did everything asked of them. They believed in the decision and poured themselves into the execution. But leadership isn’t about deflecting blame. It’s about absorbing the hit so your team doesn’t have to.
That’s what accountability means—and I won’t sugarcoat it: it hurt. I care deeply about the trust our members place in us. When that trust is shaken, even briefly, you feel the weight of it. I felt different. My kids could tell something was up with dad. My wife could definitely tell.
By The Way, This Isn’t About Sympathy
I want to be clear: this article isn’t written to garnish sympathy or elicit praise for “eventually making the right decision.” Correcting mistakes is the bare minimum of leadership, not something to be congratulated for.
I wasn’t even going to post this on LinkedIn, but wanted to so that if nothing else, I can look back on it in a few years and remember what this felt like. It’s not really genuine if I, or anyone else, gives the impression that we only have wins in Oregon. I written about those, but then sometimes we lose.
The point of sharing this is simpler: we have to be willing to own the setbacks as openly as we celebrate the wins. Not because it feels good—trust me it doesn’t—but because it’s the only way to truly get better.
The Response
When we made the call to return to our previous vendor, who is superb, the response was immediate and positive. Members appreciated the course correction, and the frustration that had built up quickly began to ease. It didn’t disappear but it did mean that it gradually subsided.
That reaction from members underscored the most important lesson of all: no matter how strong the numbers or logic may seem, nothing matters more than service.
It’s easy to say we prioritize service. It’s much harder when a big, bold decision inadvertently gets in the way. But this experience reminded me that service isn’t just a value to list on paper—it’s the ultimate measure of whether we’re succeeding.
Lessons Learned
Looking back, a few lessons stand out:
Good intentions don’t erase poor outcomes. Members don’t experience why we made the decision—they experience the service they receive.
Spreadsheets can’t capture human impact. Financial models and projections are helpful, but they don’t reflect the stress and disruption people feel when service dips.
Transparency matters. Saying “we got this wrong” builds more trust than pretending everything went as planned. People see through that.
Leadership means taking the hit. It’s my job to stand in front and absorb the criticism so the team can keep moving forward.
Service is the ultimate metric. At the end of the day, nothing else matters more.
Putting It in Perspective
This was a blip, and a step back, but it doesn’t define us. We’ve done a tremendous amount of good in the past year, and I believe we’ve positioned ourselves to make soccer in Oregon stronger than it has ever been.
We’ve built new opportunities, created new structures, invested in programs, and strengthened partnerships. We’ve created momentum that excites me for the future.
This stumble doesn’t undo that progress—but it does sharpen our focus. It reminds us that growth isn’t a straight line. It’s a mix of steps forward and, sometimes, a step back. What matters is what we learn from it, and how we move forward.
Moving Forward
Our vendor partner is back. The process is stable. Families and coaches can count on us again for the reliability they deserve.
But this experience is going to inform every decision we make moving forward. It reminded me that risk-taking is important, but only if we keep service as the lens through which every decision is evaluated.
I don’t regret trying. Innovation always carries risk, and playing it safe is rarely the path to growth. But I do regret that our attempt created disruption for those who count on us most. That’s why accountability matters, and why this lesson will stay with me.
A Final Thought
Sitting here writing this in Kansas City while at the USYS Leadership Symposium, I am reminded that leadership isn’t about never getting it wrong. It’s about having the courage to admit when you do, the humility to absorb the consequences, and the commitment to use the experience to get better. I’ll at least give myself some credit for that.
We stumbled. We owned it. We fixed it. And now, we move forward with even greater clarity: service above everything else.
That’s not just a lesson for scheduling—it’s a lesson for leadership, and we’ve talked about that a lot in meetings this week.