I wish all of you could have met my father.  He was a real estate developer, and as a hobby, he owned racehorses.

He had a horse in about 1968 that performed so well at Turf Paradise that it qualified for a big race at Santa Anita in California. My dad took me with him. It was a huge day with lots of colors and pageantry, plus we were in the owner’s box. 

I was almost 8 years old on that sunny day with my buzz cut, dress slacks, dress shoes, and my shirt tucked in. My bigger-than-life father was dapper in his suit, tie, and sunglasses.  He held my hand as we went up the escalator.

Thousands of fans filled the stands, and hundreds of thousands of dollars were at stake on a single race.

Everybody could feel the pressure that day. The trainers were pacing back and forth, and the jockey’s hands were actually shaking on the reins as we made our pre-race visit to the paddocks.  Yes, EVERYBODY was anxious that bright afternoon at one of our nation’s biggest race tracks……………………. That is, everybody except for my father. 

Just moments before the race, my dad sat calmly in the owner’s box with his binoculars around his neck. The starting bell sounded.

50,000 fans stood up to watch, but not my dad, who sat calmly as the race started with our horse dead last out of the gate. My family and the guests in our owner’s box moaned.  After what seemed like an eternity, my dad finally stood up, looked through his binoculars, and calmly whispered to me, “I like our position”.  I looked at him like he was crazy.  He liked our position?  Our horse was dead last!

At the first turn, our horse had moved up one notch, but still, our horse was almost in last place.  My dad continued to look through his binoculars, and again he calmly whispered, “I like our position”.

At the far turn, our horse had moved up to about the middle of the pack.  My dad continued to look through his binoculars, calmly whispering, “I like our position”.

I tugged on his suit coat in panic and said, “Dad, the race is almost over.  We’re losing!” He quietly looked through his binoculars and confidently grinned.  “Patience son.  Patience. I like our position”.  Others in our box had already given up, sitting down and shaking their head in disgust at our horse’s performance… but still, my dad whispered to me, “I like our position.”

“AND DOWN THE STRETCH THEY COME!!”, the announcer yelled!

As the horses turned towards the grandstand, the crowd was loud and wildly cheering.  I was too short to see over the crowd in front. Standing on my chair, I was trying to get a peek at the front of the pack charging towards the finish line.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t even see our horses’ colors.  In fact, I couldn’t see our horse at all.  And still, quietly looking through his binoculars, I heard my dad whisper,  “I like our position.”

Breaking fast on the outside, almost right in front of our owner’s box, I could see our horse passing traffic like it was in the HOV lane. Our horse was nearly a full length ahead of every other horse on the track and charging hard. 

At the finish line, our horse had won by nearly 3 full lengths. There was no competition in sight.

WE WON!!!  My calm 6 foot 4 dad picked me up in his giant arms with his big old smile, rubbed my head, and whispered in my ear. “I like our position son.  I like our position.” 

Meaningful wins and consistent sales do not just happen immediately. More importantly, “Do you like your position?”. Keep stride and keep stalking the pack. Consistently put yourself in a position to gain ground.

Overall, even the best jockeys in the world can only marginally make their horse go faster. Instead, the greatest jockeys in the world are paid millions simply to place their horses out of trouble and in a position to win.

For most of you, this is still just the start of your race. We are not even at the second turn. Stay focused on your position, and you’ll reach the finish line.

Bet on it.