ALL IN!
I have a friend who uses this motto, literally religiously. So when I saw a posting about being ALL IN on Linkedin I thought it would be appropriate to use my friend Michael Chiasson as my inspiration for today’s blog. Check out his amazing story here All Access Ministries.
Franchising to franchisors is about consistency in the brand and product but its also about finding that franchisee that is ALL IN. It is hard to see success as a franchisee if you believe the franchise is the only reason people come in. Franchises drive the brand and the product, the franchisee drives the service and the atmosphere and if you are ALL In, your guest see it, hear it and support it!
At JFG were are ALL IN in supporting our partners and their success. How about you? Are you ALL IN?
Accountability
In the world of franchising, accountability seems to be used as a catch phrase these days for franchisee’s. However, accountability in franchising is a two way street. Both the Franchisee (or in our case Franchise Partners) and the Franchisor need to be accountable to each other.
When a franchisee buys into a brand and opens their franchise there is obligations for both parties, the franchisee must; open their franchise in a timely manner, adhere to the standards an procedures outlined by the franchisor, etc etc., the franchisor must; provide the systems and standards, coach and train the franchisee’s on the those systems and standards etc..
So there is obligations? But what about the accountability? The accountability the franchisor should have to ensure the success of its franchisee’s, taking responsibility for its system. On the flip side, what about the accountability of the franchisee to fulfill its obligation and make an effort in its business and not solely rely on the franchisor to do so.
Far too often the disconnect between the franchisor/franchisee is about full time and attention by the franchisee and the “lack of support” that the franchisee feels they get. How do we connect these two groups again? How do we get franchisee’s to understand that as a franchisor you can provide the systems, the knowledge, the advertising but if the franchisee does not execute on their end when a customer uses their franchise, then there is nothing the franchisor can do?
Both parties have to start with being accountable to the other. Both have to fulfill their obligations to the other and hold each other ‘accountable’ from the very start. Both need to build and nurture the franchise relationship. As a franchisor if you have a franchisee who can’t or won’t do this, then you’ve got the wrong partner. As a franchisee, if you aren’t willing to adhere to the system and give it full time and attention, then you’ve probably chosen the wrong platform to do business. Franchises are great because your buying into a proven business system, many have tried and possibly failed before you to help improve your success rate. The system is in place but it still takes the individual(s) franchisee to execute it.
At Joey’s Franchise Group, we have proven the success of all of our systems and we pride ourselves in our open and honest role in our accountability to help our franchise partners execute their systems. Make sure the franchisor you choose can do the same!
How we all should do business - The John Scott Story
A Guy Like Me
JAN 28 2016
JOHN SCOTT
ALL-STAR / NHL
“Hey, John, can we talk for a second?”
I guess I should have known.
But I have absolutely no idea what’s coming.
I’m in the weight room, hanging out with the guys, when my GM asks me to take a walk. I’ve been gone for a couple of days — but now I’m back in Phoenix, at the Coyotes practice facility, catching up with the boys. We’re getting some stretches in, and passing around my new gloves.
My All-Star gloves.
I’ve seen my name in the news, on the press release, on the official rosters. But even still: there’s just something about gear, you know? I, John Scott, from Michigan Tech, at 33 years old … have All-Star gloves.
The guys are all genuinely happy for me, and they’re letting me know it. They’re giving me some crap about it, too (of course), but it’s all in good fun. Everyone’s taking their turn, trying my gloves on. We’re laughing. It’s a cool moment.
As this is happening, I see our GM open the door.
He’s not smiling.
“Hey, John, can we talk for a second?”
We head down the hall a few steps, into the stick room of all places, and he shuts the door.
And then he tells me point blank.
“You just got traded.”
Nope. No way.
“You’re shitting me.”
I hear him perfectly the first time, but I need him to say it again.
“We just traded you to Montreal. Yeah.”
My mind is racing a mile a minute. I know exactly what’s happened.
Still, I can’t help myself.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Enforcers don’t get traded midseason when their team is winning. If you know the league, you know that it just doesn’t happen.
“I’m not sure what to say, John. This is how it goes. We’re trying to make our team better. We had a chance to get a player, and we took it.”
I’ll keep the rest of the conversation private, because I’m a professional. But you can fill in the blanks. It is, as we say in this business, emotional.
When I get to my car, I immediately call my wife.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
I almost laugh. It’s all I can do.
“I just got traded.”
I can sense her mind racing a mile a minute, just like mine had.
“Nope. No. No way.”
She hears me perfectly the first time, but needs to hear it again.
“Yeah. Montreal. Well, actually … they already sent me down to the minors. So, Newfoundland.”
Newfoundland. Can you even get a flight from Phoenix to Newfoundland?
I pack up my stuff: my sticks, my skates, my gear. I walk back down to the gym, and grab my gloves — still sitting there, brand new, where the guys and I had been. John Scott, All-Star. I throw them in my bag, then place it in the trunk of my car, and begin the long drive home.
I try not to think about how young my daughters are, and how much they’ll hate the move. Or about the stress it will place on my wife, who is nine months pregnant with twins. Or about the fondness I feel for the guys in Phoenix — our group that no one believed in — and the pride I feel for what we’ve accomplished together. I try not to think about how I don’t want to leave.
And I try not to think about how I should have known.
Or about how my teammate called it — literally called it — way back before all of this got crazy.
How he texted me, “Dude, you’re 30th in the All-Star fan vote,” one night, out of the blue.
And then, how he added:
“They’ll never let you play, John. They’re never going to let you be there.
Not a guy like you.”
*
A guy like me.
You probably think you know me. Or at least the stereotype of John Scott. Well, let me tell you something that might surprise you: I never wanted to be a fighter. Growing up, I always made sure I had the Sherwood TP-70 stick.
Why? That was Ray Bourque’s stick. I was all about Ray Bourque, even though I lived in St. Catharines, Ontario. I guess I’ve always been a bit of a contrarian. All my buddies loved the Leafs and Canadiens. So I picked the Bruins. I thought the logo was cool. I remember being so mad that they wouldn’t let us pick numbers past 30 in Squirt hockey. I wanted 77, so I could be like Ray.
Look, I get it. I’m 6-foot-8. Everybody’s first question is always, “Were you beating kids up back in youth hockey?”
No. Of course not. I was a stay-at-home defenseman. Never the best player. I got cut from every Junior B team I tried out for. The coaches kept saying, “Too big. Too slow.”
I was like, too big? What the hell am I supposed to do about that?
So I got faster. And I did just enough to get myself a scholarship to play hockey at Michigan Tech University. The way I saw it, I would never make the NHL, but I’d have an engineering degree. By 30, I’d be sitting in an office at GM back in sleepy Ontario, in my suit, and happy as hell about it.
This was the old Western Collegiate Hockey Association — home of the 10-hour bus ride to road games in Minnesota and North Dakota. We even played Alaska-Anchorage. I remember being on these 10-hour bus rides — down single-lane roads in rural Minnesota, snow flying around everywhere, heater broken — and all the Business majors are watching movies and goofing around.
And I’m sitting there propping my engineering book up on my knees, taking a thermodynamics test. These knuckleheads are watching Billy Madison, and I’m trying to answer:
Question 5: A gun fires a bullet at the velocity of X, through a stack of five mattresses with a thickness of X. Please calculate the terminal velocity of ….
The bus is cold and dark bumping up and down. I’ve got equations scrawled everywhere. My buddies are yelling out Sandler lines. So the last thought in my mind was, Some day, you’re going to be an NHL All-Star.
If you think this is like Joke Athlete Engineering — no. Freshman year, 50 percent of the students would fail out of the intro chemistry course. They literally used to set up a boombox as you walked into the final that blared Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust.”
But, somehow, I made it through. I got my degree. I got engaged. I was ready for my cubicle at GM.
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And then …
“Hey babe … I got an offer to play in the American Hockey League … in Houston.”
“No. No. No way.”
She thought it was insane. I made her a promise: give me three years. Three years, and then I’ll go back to the real world. I mean, I have my degree. What could happen?
In your mind right now, you’re probably thinking: classic. Big goon tries to fight his way all through the AHL to get a chance at The Show.
Well, here’s another thing about me you might not know: by 23, I had never been in a real hockey fight. Sure, I’d wrestled around in PeeWee and Juniors with a cage on, but that’s not real. I didn’t know the first thing about how to fight.
My first couple games in the AHL with the Houston Aeros, I heard this four, five times a game:
“Hey, ya big bastard, y’wanna go?”
“Let’s go. Right now.”
“We’re going.”
I kept saying, “Uh, no. No, I’m good.”
Then it happened. I’ll never forget being in the locker room before a game against Peoria.
We’re ready to go out onto the ice, and my coach looks around the room. Then he looks right at me, dead in the eyes.
“Scott. Do. Not. Fight. D.J. King.”
I’m like, “Who the hell is D.J. King?”
His eyes are bulging now, like, “D.J. King is a billed heavyweight. D.J. King is a freaking animal.”
So what I did was … I fought D.J. King.
And what he did was … he busted me right in the jaw.
At that moment, I realized, Oh, okay. Wow. This is what it feels like to get really hit. But somehow, I was able to keep my feet and kind of win the fight. My teammates went nuts.
And then I realized another thing: Oh, okay. Wow. This feels good. Not my face. That feels bad. But it feels good to make my teammates go nuts.
So that’s how it went. I embraced it, because it was my way forward, not because it was my nature. Fighting, no matter how big you are, is not easy. By my third year in the AHL (and final year of my promise to my fiance, now my wife), we were on a road trip when I got a call I never saw coming.
“Hey, the Wild want you in Calgary. Tonight.”
The Minnesota Wild. Wanted me to play in Calgary. I called everybody in my phone, told them I was playing in the NHL. Tonight. I think it was even a Hockey Night in Canada game.
I get to the airport, thinking about pulling on the sweater, skating out in front of 20,000 people.
“Sir, your passport?”
My passport?
My fucking passport! No.
Back then, the only guys who took their passports on the road were the hotshots who thought they might get called to play a game in the NHL. In Canada. I was not one of those hotshots. (Because of me, they now make guys take their passports everywhere).
I begged the airport attendant. I showed her my driver’s license. I showed her pictures of me in my hockey jersey. I laid the Canadian accent on thick.
“Ma’am, I’m a Canadian citizen! I need to get on that flight. I’m suppose to play in the NHL tonight, eh?”
Nope. She wouldn’t budge. I was crushed. I mean, that’s not an easy call to make to an NHL team. “Hey, crazy story, uh … I don’t have my passport.”
I thought I was done. But, yet again, somehow things just worked out, and I got another chance a few weeks later. Against the Detroit Red Wings, of all teams. I hopped over the boards for my first shift, and I’m out against Pavel Datsyuk and Nick Lidstrom.
That’s a holy shit moment for ya. That’s a long way from the GM cubicle.
You know what? I stuck around. My wife and I had to move all across the country, year after year. But I stayed in the NHL, by any means necessary.
It is not easy. People think enforcers skate out there for two minutes a night, take a few pops and call it a night. What a life, right?
But I’ll be honest. You can never shut it off. It’s a 24/7 job. When you know a fight is coming up, you can never shut off your brain. You can be the toughest, baddest guy in the NHL, and there’s still that fear.
My first few years in the NHL, it was so bad that I wouldn’t sleep. I’d stay up all night on HockeyFights.com and YouTube, researching the tendencies of the next enforcer on the schedule. Steve Macintyre. Eric Godard. I could go on and on. You’d see these monsters on the schedule weeks in advance, and your mind would already start racing.
This is the job we sign up for. One day, my wife couldn’t take it anymore, and she said, “John, you know those guys you’re so worried about? They’re probably sitting at home on their laptop right now, watching you beat somebody up. They have the same fear.”
That was a breakthrough.
When I had my daughters, that helped, too. For some reason, it helped me shut off my brain when I came home. I became a hockey player that I hoped they could be proud of. I even scored three goals with the Sharks last season. They loved that.
*
“Do you think this is something your kids would be proud of?”
That was it, right there. That was the moment they lost me.
At first, when it became clear that I was going to win the All-Star fan vote, I understood the league’s position. They didn’t mince words — This is not a game for you, John — but I understood all the same. Honestly, on some level, I agreed.
In the beginning, at least, I just wanted the entire thing to go away. We were on a really fun run in Phoenix, and I was starting to feel like I was part of something. The Coyotes had been picked to finish dead last — but in the first half of the season, we’d surprised a lot of people. We were this strange collection of underdogs, and I fit right in. And I fit right in by doing what I do best: being a locker room guy, a no-nonsense guy, and a quiet yet effective enforcer.
I’ve gotten texts from so many guys saying the same thing: “You should go.”
One of the reasons I’ve made it as long as I have in the league is because I specifically know I’m not an All-Star.
So when they asked me to make a statement — nudging the fan vote in another direction and denouncing the John Scott “movement” — I did it without hesitation. I told the fans, “Listen. I don’t deserve this. Vote for my teammates.” And I was telling the truth.
But while I don’t deserve to be an All-Star, I also don’t think I deserve to be treated like I’ve been by the league throughout this saga. I’m an NHL player — and, whatever my set of skills may be, that I’m an NHL player is no accident. I genuinely believe that when I’m on the ice, or even just the bench, I make my teammates feel safe to do what they do best.
Does that make me an elite player? God, no. Am I going to be nervous as hell when I step onto the ice on Sunday — and I’m playing three-on-three, with Tarasenko whizzing by over one shoulder, and Toews putting the moves on me over the other? Of course. Will I be the worst skater in the game? I mean, probably.
But at the same time: this isn’t Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I’m not some random person off the str
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eet, and I didn’t win a golden ticket to “play hockey with the stars.” I won an internet fan vote, sure. And at some point, without question, it was a joke. It might even finish as a joke. But it didn’t start as one. It started with a very small pool, out of a very small pool, out of the very, very smallest pool of hockey players in the world: NHLers. That was the vote. A fan vote, an internet vote — but a vote from among the 700 or so best hockey players in North American professional sports.
And I’m one of them.
If the league thought this was an embarrassment, pretty much all of the players I’ve encountered have thought otherwise. I’ve gotten texts from so many guys saying the same thing: “You should go.”
And that didn’t happen because of the internet. I busted my ass to be one of them. I’ve skated every day since I was three years old to be one of them. I’ve persevered through Juniors roster cuts, Alaskan bus rides, Advanced Dynamics exams, and — yes — fights, to be one of them.
But I’m one of them. And that means a lot to me.
It means a lot to my family.
So when someone from the NHL calls me and says, “Do you think this is something your kids would be proud of?”
… That’s when they lost me.
That was it, right there. That was the moment.
Because, while I may not deserve to be an NHL All-Star, I know I deserve to be the judge of what my kids will — and won’t — be proud of me for.
The irony is that my daughters are two of the biggest NHL fans around. My oldest, Eva, loves hockey. Loves watching me play. Loves following my teams. And, yeah, she’s super-pumped about All-Star. My youngest, Gabriella, is a little too young to “follow” it — but she loves it all the same. She has all of my jerseys — from the Blackhawks, to the Wild, to the Rangers, to the Sharks — and she wears them constantly. And, in Phoenix, whenever Daddy would leave for a big game … she’d be right on cue:ahhh-oooooh. (That’s a coyote howling.)
When they see me on the ice on Sunday, will my girls be proud of me? Who knows. I like to think so. But I know they’ll be there for me — for their big, goofy dad — no matter what. They’ll be there, in the stands, cheering me on — wearing their Scott jerseys, and watching me try my best, have some fun and fulfill a dream I’ve had since I was, well, their age.
Eventually, when they’re old enough, I’m sure I’ll tell them the whole story. About that one crazy January, when they were younger: when our family moved all of a sudden; when we stopped howling,ahhh-oooooh; when the twins were born; and when their father made the news and played that weird game in Nashville.
It’ll be a pretty good story, I hope.
I imagine they’ll give me some crap, while I tell it — though (of course) in good fun.
Then I imagine we’ll catch up for a little, rinkside. We’ll get some stretches in. And maybe, if they have time before practice, they’ll even try on my old gloves.
My All-Star gloves.
JOHN SCOTT / CONTRIBUTOR[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]
Entrepreneur - The best franchise advice you'll get.
When you are looking into a franchisor the best thing to look at is the success of their partners and how they interact with them. Franchise systems are made to be simple, understandable and certainly, repeatable! I am sharing a great article by Jeff Elgin in Entrepreneur Magazine that dictates everything you should do when researching a franchise system. I encourage you to do everything he suggests and put Joey’s Franchise Group to the test!
Check out his article here: The best franchise advice you’ll get…..
Emotional Intelligence
Emotional Intelligence
Developing strong “people skills”
We probably all know people, either at work or in our personal lives, who are really good listeners. No matter what kind of situation we’re in, they always seem to know just what to say – and how to say it – so that we’re not offended or upset. They’re caring and considerate, and even if we don’t find a solution to our problem, we usually leave feeling more hopeful and optimistic.
We probably also know people who are masters at managing their emotions. They don’t get angry in stressful situations. Instead, they have the ability to look at a problem and calmly find a solution. They’re excellent decision makers, and they know when to trust their intuition. Regardless of their strengths, however, they’re usually willing to look at themselves honestly. They take criticism well, and they know when to use it to improve their performance.
People like this have a high degree of emotional intelligence, or EI. They know themselves very well, and they’re also able to sense the emotional needs of others.
Would you like to be more like this?
As more and more people accept that emotional intelligence is just as important to professional success as technical ability, organizations are increasingly using EI when they hire and promote.
For example, one large cosmetics company recently revised their hiring process for salespeople to choose candidates based on emotional intelligence. The result? Salespeople hired with the new system have sold, on average, $91,000 more than salespeople selected under the old system. There has also been significantly lower staff turnover among the group chosen for their emotional intelligence.
So, what exactly is emotional intelligence, and what can you do to improve yours?
What is Emotional Intelligence?
We all have different personalities, different wants and needs, and different ways of showing our emotions. Navigating through this all takes tact and cleverness – especially if we hope to succeed in life. This is where emotional intelligence becomes important.
Emotional intelligence is the ability to recognize your emotions, understand what they’re telling you, and realize how your emotions affect people around you. Emotional intelligence also involves your perception of others: when you understand how they feel, this allows you to manage relationships more effectively.
People with high emotional intelligence are usually successful in most things they do. Why? Because they’re the ones that others want on their team. When people with high EI send an email, it gets answered. When they need help, they get it. Because they make others feel good, they go through life much more easily than people who are easily angered or upset.
Characteristics of Emotional Intelligence
Daniel Goleman, an American psychologist, developed a framework of five elements that define emotional intelligence:
- Self-Awareness – People with high emotional intelligence are usually very self-aware. They understand their emotions, and because of this, they don’t let their feelings rule them. They’re confident – because they trust their intuition and don’t let their emotions get out of control.They’re also willing to take an honest look at themselves. They know their strengths and weaknesses, and they work on these areas so they can perform better. Many people believe that this self-awareness is the most important part of emotional intelligence.
- Self-Regulation – This is the ability to control emotions and impulses. People who self-regulate typically don’t allow themselves to become too angry or jealous, and they don’t make impulsive, careless decisions. They think before they act. Characteristics of self-regulation are thoughtfulness, comfort with change, integrity, and the ability to say no.
- Motivation – People with a high degree of emotional intelligence are usually motivated. They’re willing to defer immediate results for long-term success. They’re highly productive, love a challenge, and are very effective in whatever they do.
- Empathy – This is perhaps the second-most important element of emotional intelligence. Empathy is the ability to identify with and understand the wants, needs, and viewpoints of those around you. People with empathy are good at recognizing the feelings of others, even when those feelings may not be obvious. As a result, empathetic people are usually excellent at managing relationships, listening, and relating to others. They avoid stereotyping and judging too quickly, and they live their lives in a very open, honest way.
- Social Skills – It’s usually easy to talk to and like people with good social skills, another sign of high emotional intelligence. Those with strong social skills are typically team players. Rather than focus on their own success first, they help others develop and shine. They can manage disputes, are excellent communicators, and are masters at building and maintaining relationships.
As you’ve probably determined, emotional intelligence can be a key to success in your life – especially in your career. The ability to manage people and relationships is very important in all leaders, so developing and using youremotional intelligence can be a good way to show others the leader inside of you.
How to Improve Your Emotional Intelligence
The good news is that emotional intelligence CAN be taught and developed. Many books and tests are available to help you determine your current EI, and identify where you may need to do some work. You can also use these tips:
- Observe how you react to people. Do you rush to judgment before you know all of the facts? Do you stereotype? Look honestly at how you think and interact with other people. Try to put yourself in their place, and be more open and accepting of their perspectives and needs.
- Look at your work environment. Do you seek attention for your accomplishments? Humility can be a wonderful quality, and it doesn’t mean that you’re shy or lack self-confidence. When you practice humility, you say that you know what you did, and you can be quietly confident about it. Give others a chance to shine – put the focus on them, and don’t worry too much about getting praise for yourself.
- Do a self-evaluation. What are your weaknesses? Are you willing to accept that you’re not perfect and that you could work on some areas to make yourself a better person? Have the courage to look at yourself honestly – it can change your life.
- Examine how you react to stressful situations. Do you become upset every time there’s a delay or something doesn’t happen the way you want? Do you blame others or become angry at them, even when it’s not their fault? The ability to stay calm and in control in difficult situations is highly valued – in the business world and outside it. Keep your emotions under control when things go wrong.
- Take responsibility for your actions. If you hurt someone’s feelings, apologize directly – don’t ignore what you did or avoid the person. People are usually more willing to forgive and forget if you make an honest attempt to make things right.
- Examine how your actions will affect others – before you take those actions. If your decision will impact others, put yourself in their place. How will they feel if you do this? Would you want that experience? If you must take the action, how can you help others deal with the effects?
Key Points
Although “regular” intelligence is important to success in life, emotional intelligence is key to relating well to others and achieving your goals. Many people believe that emotional intelligence is at least as important as regular intelligence, and many companies now use EI testing to hire new staff.
Emotional intelligence is an awareness of your actions and feelings – and how they affect those around you. It also means that you value others, listen to their wants and needs, and are able to empathize or identify with them on many different levels.