In the 1960s and early 70s, John Z. DeLorean was Detroit’s golden boy. He was tall, handsome, sharp in his tailored suits, and known for both his engineering skill and marketing genius. He rose to be the youngest division head in General Motors history and the mastermind behind the Pontiac GTO. People didn’t just think he would lead GM one day—they were sure of it.
But DeLorean didn’t like the corporate grind. He chafed under GM’s conservative culture. The endless meetings, the budget reviews, and the slow process of bringing a car from sketch to showroom all felt suffocating. He wanted freedom to dream big, to move fast, to build something bold.
In 1973, at the age of 48, he shocked the industry by resigning from GM at the height of his career. He wanted the freedom to innovate and challenge the status quo, so he announced the creation of the DeLorean Motor Company.
His vision was to build a stainless-steel sports car with gull-wing doors, a futuristic design, and an “ethical” engineering approach that would last for decades. The press loved it. Investors poured in millions. The British government even put up more than $100 million in incentives to build a factory in Northern Ireland.
On the surface, DeLorean had everything—charisma, capital, and cutting-edge ideas. But there was a problem: He couldn’t run a company. The fundamentals, like supply chains, manufacturing efficiency, and quality control, were treated as afterthoughts. Sure, the early prototypes looked terrific, but the performance was underwhelming. Production delays piled up and costs soared. DeLorean loved the stage, but he had little patience for the daily grind. And in the auto industry, the grind is everything.
The DeLorean DMC-12 finally hit the market in 1981, years behind schedule. Its brushed stainless steel gleamed, and the gull-wing doors turned heads, but the reviews were lukewarm. The car was heavy, the engine sluggish, and the price too steep. By 1982, DMC was bleeding money. DeLorean desperately needed cash to save the company.
In October 1982, the FBI arrested John DeLorean in a Los Angeles hotel for allegedly agreeing to finance a $24 million cocaine smuggling deal to save his company. He was later acquitted, but the damage was done—his company had already gone bankrupt, and his reputation never recovered.
The DMC-12 became a pop culture icon after being featured as the time machine in the Back to the Future films. But for DeLorean himself, the car was a reminder of unfulfilled potential. He lived the rest of his life fighting lawsuits, dabbling in business ventures, and telling his side of the story. He died in 2005, remembered as a cautionary tale: a man with the talent to change an industry, but whose ambition was greater than his attention to detail.
If you zoom out, the lesson is simple: talent gets you noticed, but discipline keeps you there. Big dreams require small, daily acts—most of which are repetitive and unglamorous. DeLorean wanted to rewrite the rules of the auto industry, but he skipped the most important rule: master the basics.
Choose Your Hard
In Greek mythology, there’s the story of Sisyphus, the king condemned to push a massive boulder up a mountain, only to have it roll back down each time he reached the top. Some days, the green phase can feel like that. You’re given the grunt work, the repetitive tasks, the projects no one else wants—simply because you’re the new guy or girl on the team. But what feels like punishment is actually an opportunity. Every small assignment is a chance to show you’re responsible.
Every day, thousands of new, hungry applicants join the workforce, and make no mistake, they want what you have—your job, your contract, your connections. So what makes you stand out? It’s not your ideas. Everyone has ideas. It’s not your talent either? Sure, talent can get you noticed, but talent actually raises the expectations placed on you. What truly sets you apart is consistency—the discipline to do the right things, day after day, after the excitement fades.
For those who are blessed with the gift of charisma, it is much easier to try to charm your way to the top. At every stage of life, you’ve been able to talk your way into getting what you want. That’s what happened to Delorean. But at some point, you have to stop talking and start working.
Every future leader goes through a season where they’re showing up early, staying late, learning systems, solving minor problems, and trying not to drown in details. It feels thankless at times, but those moments are shaping you. Charisma might get you noticed, but consistency will get you promoted.
Everyone wants to do something big, but very few are willing to do something small. Consider that 82% of small businesses fail within their first few years, not because of bad ideas or poor marketing, but because of one simple issue: cash flow mismanagement. They don’t fail for lack of passion—but rather lack of accounting. Fundamentals are rarely fun, but vision without discipline is a blueprint for disappointment. We love to dream big and talk strategy, but what determines whether you’ll get there is the small, repetitive, behind-the-scenes stuff that gains no applause.
I once heard someone say that discipline is any action your future self will thank you for doing. That’s true—but it’s also what makes discipline so difficult. Our brains crave immediate rewards. The dopamine hit of convenience, comfort, or pleasure always feels better right now than the distant satisfaction of long-term results. But the idea that discipline is hard and pleasure is easy isn’t completely accurate. The truth is, both are hard—you just get to decide when you experience the pain. One pain is temporary and leads to growth; the other is delayed and leads to regret. So the real question isn’t, “Will you choose the easy path or the hard one?” It’s, “Which hard will you choose?”
Going to the gym instead of sleeping in is hard. But being overweight, exhausted, and unhappy with your health is hard too.
Saving your money instead of spending it is hard. But living paycheck to paycheck and drowning in debt is hard, too.
Having a difficult conversation with your team is hard. But letting frustration and resentment quietly destroy your culture is hard, too.
Making 50 cold calls a day is hard. But watching your peers succeed while you stay stuck is hard, too.
Every choice in life has a cost—you just get to decide when you’ll pay it. The undisciplined pay first with pleasure and later with pain. The disciplined pay first with effort and later with freedom. Professionals understand the importance of the small things. Amateurs look for shortcuts; professionals build habits. Amateurs talk about goals; professionals build systems.
Hall of Famer Kobe Bryant received a text message from his trainer every night with a single question: “What time?” Kobe would reply with just a number: 4, 5, or 6. It was the time Kobe planned to start training the next morning. Many mornings, when his trainer showed up at 4:00 a.m. Kobe was already sweating.
Compare Kobe’s work ethic with another iconic player, Allen Iverson. In 2002, Iverson delivered one of the most quoted press conferences in sports history. Frustrated with reporters questioning his work habits, he laughed and said, “We talking about practice—not a game, not a game—but practice.”
It’s hard to discredit Iverson’s talent. He was electric, only six feet tall, he made the difficult look effortless. He was an all-star but never won a championship. Who can say for sure, but maybe it was his disdain for practice that kept him from winning a title compared to Kobe’s five championships.
So what does it look like in the green phase to master the mundane? Let me give you three choices you can make that will set you apart from your peers.
Grow Up: Take Ownership of Your Life
Growing up isn’t about age—it’s about ownership. It’s the moment you stop waiting for someone to fix things or make decisions for you. It’s realizing that no one is coming to rescue you. You are responsible for your own results. We live in a time when that truth has become increasingly rare.
In recent decades, a well-intentioned generation of parents tried to remove every obstacle from their children’s path to make life easier and safer. But in doing so, they produced the opposite effect. When you’ve been coddled, responsibility feels like cruelty. A recent study found that 77% of Gen Zers brought a parent to their job interview. And nearly half of them had their mom talk to their boss. Think about that. Full-grown adults, with college degrees, accompanied by mom or dad, to a job interview. It’s a sobering picture of how comfort quietly kills character.
But maturity isn’t about avoiding responsibility; it’s about embracing it. The green phase of your career—those early years when you’re learning, hustling, and figuring things out—is your opportunity to take full ownership of your future. No one is going to do it for you. It’s managing your morning and evening routines so you can maximize the day. It’s about managing your money so you’re not desperate for whatever scraps your company offers. It’s having hard conversations instead of hiding behind excuses. It’s asking for feedback even when it stings. It’s admitting when you’re wrong and learning how to make it right.
What do all of these examples have in common? They are within your control. Is life unfair? Certainly. Do some people have to work harder than others to get ahead? Of course. But immature people make excuses; mature people make adjustments.
Maybe you’re thinking, “But I know successful people who are immature.” It’s true. There are some. You can find people with fame, money, or influence who still act like children. They’re entitled and impulsive. But their example should be a warning. Listen to how their employees talk about them when they’re not in the room? Notice how they don’t have any real friends. Is that what you want? Are those the examples you want to follow?
There will be time to play—but right now, it’s time to build. You’re laying the foundation for the rest of your career. It’s easy to believe you’ll take things more seriously when you have more important responsibilities. But the green phase is your opportunity to change your bad habits and immature patterns while the stakes are still low.
Show Up: Consistency Is a Superpower
One of the most overlooked factors in success is the simple act of showing up. To the office, to the gym, to drinks after work, to conferences and workshops, and every other opportunity you’re given. Don’t take this the wrong way, but in the green phase, your time isn’t valuable yet—at least not as valuable as it will be—that means you have time to be present when others choose to skip out.
When starting a new career or chapter in life, the early days are exhilarating, but anyone can be passionate for a week or a month. The people who make progress are the ones who keep showing up when the excitement fades.
In his worldwide bestseller Atomic Habits, author James Clear explains the power of getting just one percent better every day. He writes, “You don’t realize how valuable it is to just show up on your bad (or busy) days. Lost days hurt you more than successful days help you.” He gives an example: if you start with $100, a 50 percent gain will take you to $150. But you only need a 33 percent loss to fall back to $100. In other words, avoiding losses—simply showing up and not giving ground—is as valuable as the big wins. That’s what consistency is: protecting your progress. You don’t have to feel inspired every day. You just have to keep your streak alive. The gym, the sales calls, the meetings, the project—whatever it is, the discipline of showing up builds momentum.
In business, consistency is your credibility. The most trusted employees aren’t always the most talented; they’re the ones their boss can count on. They don’t call in sick regularly. They don’t disappear when things get difficult. They’re present. You don’t have to be extraordinary—you just have to be reliable, because trust is the currency that builds careers.
Follow Up: The Fortune Is in the Follow-Through
In sales, there’s a saying: “The fortune is in the follow-up.” And it’s true. Research shows that 80% of sales require at least five contacts, yet nearly half of professionals give up after one.
But following up isn’t just a sales skill—it’s one of the most underrated forms of professionalism you can develop. You should follow up with your boss after a project to ask what went well and what could be improved. You should follow up after meeting someone new to thank them for their time. You should follow up with a client or mentor who gave you advice to let them know how you applied it. In a world full of distractions and short attention spans, the simple act of following up stands out. It says, “I’m still here. You know where to find me.”
Most people never take that extra step, which means when you do, you immediately separate yourself from the crowd. It’s sending one more email, making one more call, asking one more question.
Have you ever received a thank-you note after attending an event or giving a gift? Think about how it made you feel. For just a quick moment, it brought a smile to your face, or at least made you feel noticed. And what did it cost the person who sent it to you? 3 minutes? The cost of a stamp?
But don’t just follow up—follow through. Do what you said you would do. You would be surprised how the simple act of keeping your word will cause you to stand out in your field. Too many miss the deadline and make excuses. They leave a voicemail but never call back to have a conversation. When you follow through, you show your commitment to finishing the job all the way instead of halfway.
So before you chase the next big idea or the next new lead, go back and follow up on the ones you already have. Send the text. Make the call. Write the thank-you note. Circle back one more time. The fortune is always in the follow-up.
The Boring Advantage
Before every basketball season at UCLA, legendary coach John Wooden gathered his players for their first team meeting. Most of them were among the most talented athletes in the country. Many were future NBA stars who had played their whole lives, confident they already knew the fundamentals of the game. They expected day one to be filled with strategy, drills, or speeches about winning championships.
Instead, Wooden began the same way every year—by teaching his players how to put on their socks. He would hold up a sock and carefully demonstrate how to roll it over the toes, pull it tight around the heel, and smooth out every wrinkle. Then he’d show them how to lace their shoes correctly, tying them tight but not too tight. “Wrinkles cause blisters, and blisters make you miss practice. And if you miss practice, you miss playing time.” He would say.
There are a lot more exciting things to talk about than socks, but it was Wooden’s attention to detail that set him apart and helped lead UCLA to 10 national championships in 12 years, including seven in a row.
Author Tish Harrison Warren said it best when she said, “Everyone wants a revolution, but no one wants to do the dishes.” Her point was that we want to change the world or make a million dollars, without having to do the small, repetitive, boring stuff. But there are no shortcuts.
Yes, one of these days you’ll have a team that can handle a lot of the tedious details like you are doing now, but personal responsibility will always be required if you want to maximize your ripe years. You can’t outsource ownership. It isn’t sexy, and no one will probably ever want to interview you about it, but it is the secret sauce to success.
It’s the little things—your attention to detail, your response time, your preparation, your follow-up, your consistency. Those small, seemingly invisible habits are what will make you stand out, because most of your peers are too distracted or too lazy to do them. But not you. You’re willing to get in the weeds—to double-check the numbers, proofread the proposal, show up 30 minutes early, and stay 30 minutes late. The Green Phase is where those habits are forged. It’s the season for building disciplines that no one will see, but everyone will benefit from later. It’s where you learn to treat every task, no matter how small, as training for something greater, and the little things that no one notices today will become the big reasons people trust you tomorrow.