Tag: focus

Blogpost, posh, SoccerLifeBalance

How’s It Going to Be? (Post Ferguson Era)

Pete Huryk

It’s one of those places in time I can return to with absolute clarity. I was sitting on an airplane flying back from Europe in the summer of 1998. My best friend and I had spent almost a month roaming through England, Spain, Germany, and France, with the World Cup as our backdrop. We went to five matches. Traveled hundreds of miles by train and metro. Had my friend’s passport stolen. Filed a police report in Spanish. Befriended two Australian backpackers. Got nudged by one riot cop. And, for the first time in my life, popped a soccer ball. We were exhausted, sunburned, and broke—but happy to be heading home. Mostly.

Somewhere over the Atlantic, with my CD Walkman resting on my knee, I listened to “How’s It Going to Be?” by Third Eye Blind. The song framed what I already knew was coming: the beginning of the end of a years-long, on-again-off-again relationship. During that month in Europe we’d managed to speak only once, and our pattern was familiar—every six months, a breakup, followed by the realization that life felt better together than apart. But on that plane ride, something in me knew this time was different. And when I got home, I was right. No reunion. Just an ending. And the long quiet question of how things would be moving forward.

At that point in my life, I had no idea who Peterborough United were. In one pub, a fellow patron ranted to my friend and me for twenty minutes about the villainy of Millwall, but beyond that my knowledge of lower-league football was almost nonexistent.

Fast forward nearly three decades and a lot has changed, but I find myself processing another separation from an on-again-off-again figure in my life. Darren Ferguson is gone again, and this time—strictly in the managerial sense—I believe it’s the last time. As much as I wanted him to stay, it feels like, for one reason or another, it had to happen. Just as it did with that old relationship, something in the way things worked together simply stopped working.

As I’ve written before, Ferguson was more than the manager. His brand of football set the tone for who Peterborough United have become in the modern era: forward-thinking, fearless, often outscoring everyone in sight. Darragh in the owner’s box and Darren on the touchline became the intermittent winning formula. A rhythm. A cycle. Something dependable even when it wasn’t permanent.

Now that it’s over, I’m left with reverence—and sadness—because of how it ended. My gut tells me Darren will manage again and lift another club to promotion. If that happens, I’ll find myself wondering whether things could have gone differently here. It’s possible that the only road to success—for both the POSH and for Ferguson—was a diverging one.

For now, all I can do is hope that Luke Williams can pull off what no one at Manchester United has managed yet: replacing a club legend.

Up the POSH!

Pete

Blogpost, self-reliance

Believe In The Nothing

Pete Huryk

For many people, it’s a problem. Especially now. Our world is full of quick routes to small prizes. A short video gives us a hit of superiority because someone somewhere fell flat on their face. A quick drive to the coffee shop delivers our non-prescription drug of choice and a sense of handcrafted individuality (see: You’ve Got Mail). Everything is laid out in front of us like a merchant at the feelings flea market. The action and the result sit so close together that we almost forget to ask whether the juice is worth the squeeze. And since it’s all pre-squeezed, we don’t get any of the fiber anyway.

So my humble reader, I’m asking you—along with myself—to believe in the nothing.

The really important things in this world almost never show up instantly. When you go to the gym or eat a healthy meal or choose the right thing instead of the easy thing, there’s usually nothing. You’re not suddenly fitter or glowing with virtue. The city isn’t handing you a key that probably doesn’t open anything anyway. It’s like brushing your teeth: minty feeling aside, nothing looks different after one brush. The key is the consistency. Believing that if you keep walking the path of “nothing,” you eventually arrive somewhere that changes everything.

It’s a tall order, because the world is engineered to short-circuit your brain at every turn. Grubby mitts are always reaching for your time, your attention, and all the other currencies you carry—because yes, money isn’t the only one. That’s why I’m begging you to believe in the nothing. Do the things that will absolutely work if you’ll simply see them through. Trust the quiet, the unremarkable, the days where it feels like nothing is happening.

Because nothing is exactly where the good stuff begins.

There’s nothing to it.

Pete

Blogpost, self-reliance, SoccerLifeBalance

Back from the Sideline, Soccer Dads Need to Become Playmakers

Pete Huryk

In soccer, the best players don’t control every moment. They create space. They anticipate. They make the people around them better. The playmaker isn’t the loudest or always the flashiest, he’s the one who sees the whole field and moves the game forward with intention. That’s what great dads do. They watch, they guide, and when the moment is right, they can change everything.

For a while now, though, a lot of dads have been stuck on the sideline. Watching, waiting, wondering how to re-enter the game. The world has shifted under their feet. The old playbook doesn’t quite fit anymore. In the wake of cultural reckonings; from #MeToo to questions about toxic masculinity. Many men have gone quiet. Some out of guilt, others out of confusion. What does it mean to lead without dominating? To protect without controlling? To care without losing yourself?

It’s not an easy set of questions. But maybe that’s the point. This generation of dads has a chance to model a new kind of strength: one that trades authority for empathy, volume for vision, and reaction for responsibility. The game hasn’t changed as much as the way we need to play it.

Fatherhood has always been part construction site, part classroom. We build, we teach, we fix. Sometimes we do it well, sometimes clumsily. The past few years have reminded us that brute force and certainty aren’t the same as wisdom. A lot of men have been told to sit down, listen, and reassess. Honestly, in some cases that was necessary. But now it’s time to take what was learned on the bench and put it into play.

Because the world doesn’t need quieter men. It needs better communicators. Not withdrawn spectators, but intentional playmakers. Men who understand when to press, when to pass, and when to let someone else take the shot.

Soccer dads know that feeling all too well. The helplessness of watching from the sidelines as their kid struggles through a tough game. The urge to fix everything is powerful. But the real lesson isn’t about control; it’s about trust. About giving space to grow while staying close enough to catch them if they fall. That balance between patience and presence might just be what our culture is missing most.

We don’t need men who dominate. We need men who direct. Men who don’t mistake power for purpose or silence for humility. We need dads who understand that their example off the field matters far more than their commentary from the sideline.

So yes, maybe Soccer Dads can help redirect the world, not through lectures or louder voices, but through consistent, grounded leadership. Through showing up. Through making the right pass at the right time.

Because the truth is, the world doesn’t just need to be saved, it needs to be played well.
And it’s time for the dads to get back in the game.

“I love you guys so very much, on three!”

Pete

Blogpost, self-reliance, SoccerLifeBalance

The Utility Man (We’ll Miss Him)

Pete Huryk

Today I received some sad news: a former player passed away. It’s always tough to hear when these things happen. As a coach and teacher, my hope has always been to help propel young people toward better lives. It hurts deeply when one of those lives is cut short.

This young man was what we often call a “utility player.” He wasn’t a regular starter. Most of the time he filled in at center back, but he was athletic enough to step into almost any position and hold his own. Soccer wasn’t even his first sport, yet he embraced his role and carried it with pride. He was the teammate every coach needs: willing, reliable, and unselfish.

His passing has me reflecting on the idea of utility. Not just in sports, but in life, especially for young men today. In many ways, being useful runs deep in the male identity. Yet in our current culture, it sometimes feels like that desire to be of service gets overlooked, or worse, dismissed. Between the labels of “toxic masculinity” and caricatures of outdated strength, many men are left wondering where they fit. Sweeping generalizations about half the population rarely capture the truth and often cause harm. I know plenty of men who simply want to contribute: to their families, their friends, the women in their lives, and society as a whole.

That’s why this loss hits hard. The “utility man” embodies something essential. For generations, men have stepped into roles of protection, labor, and sacrifice. Often trading their own well-being for the good of others. While the world has changed and those old trades may not be demanded in the same way, the core desire to be useful has not disappeared.

Men are useful. And most of them want to be useful (of utility). The utility man isn’t just a placeholder; he’s the glue that holds a team or a community, together. My hope is that more men are seen for the value they bring before they’re gone.

Today, I’ll remember not just the utility man on the pitch, but as a reminder of the dignity and worth in being willing to step in wherever needed. We will miss him.

Be useful today!

Pete

Blogpost, self-reliance

The 99% Trap

Pete Huryk

Most people can probably relate to this.

In 7th grade, my science teacher was Mr. Baxter. Good guy, decent sense of humor, and a big fan of showing movies in class, at least once a week. The rumor was that he bartended at night and used movie days to catch up on sleep. I never saw him pouring drinks, but I did catch him napping more than once.

One thing I remember clearly: for three tests in a row, I got a 99% in his class. Not bad, right? The missing point was always something minor—usually a misspelling. The first time, I was proud. The second time, a little annoyed. By the third, I was grumbling to friends that Mr. Baxter was being a “stickler” (or maybe something a little more colorful from my 7th grade vocabulary).

On the fourth test, I locked in. I reviewed every answer like it was under a microscope. And finally! I got my 100%. I celebrated with a triumphant “YES!”.

It wasn’t until later that I really took stock of what had happened. That science class was already my best grade. While I was obsessing over a single point in my strongest subject, I wasn’t giving that same energy to the classes where I wasn’t doing as well. I had zoomed in on a tiny problem that didn’t matter all that much and used it to distract myself from bigger ones that did.

It’s funny how that pattern doesn’t always leave us in middle school.

There are times when it feels easier to fixate on something small that’s just outside of our control than to focus on something bigger that’s fully within it. Chasing down that last one percent in a high-performing area can feel noble, like we’re just committed to excellence. But sometimes it’s just a form of avoidance.

We all have those parts of life where we’re already getting a 99%. Absolutely killing it! Trying to eke out the final percent might feel worthwhile, and maybe it is. But it’s worth asking whether that same time and focus would make a bigger difference somewhere else—maybe in a place you’ve been quietly neglecting. The tricky part, of course, is admitting that it’s not going so well. And let’s be honest, it’s easier to pat ourselves on the back for our success than to own up to our blind spots.

That doesn’t mean we stop striving. It just means we take a moment to look at the whole picture. Take pride in what’s going well. Feel good about that 99%. But don’t let that pride stop you from doing the harder, quieter work of being honest about where you’re not doing so great and finding a way to improve.

Go kick ass in as many directions as possible.

Pete

PS Anyone who noticed that the photo is a completely doctored Spanish test with no answers and 99% on the line for the date, you get extra credit! HAHA

Blogpost, self-reliance, SoccerLifeBalance

The Fed Bait and Switch (Soccer Balls)

Pete Huryk

Before anyone gets their knickers in a twist: no, the Fed isn’t running soccer matches. This is a metaphor. But it’s a helpful one if you’re trying to understand what’s really happening with your money.

Let’s start with soccer balls.

My personal favorites are Wilsons. (I haven’t been paid to say that—yet. Wilson, I’m listening.) They’re durable, reliable, hold air like champs, and play true. But if you swear by Adidas, Puma, Select, or some other brand, great—this still works.

Now imagine a soccer ball hierarchy.
Your go-to favorite is at the top. At the bottom? A ball made out of rolled-up newspaper tied with twine. Technically still a ball…. you can kick it… but it’s barely worth the effort.

⚽️ The Game Changes

You’re mid-match, giving it your all. Suddenly, the ball changes.

It looks similar, but the feel is off. A few minutes later, it changes again. Even worse.

You finally realize: the referee and linesmen are doing the switching. When you ask why, they say it’s to “stimulate play.”

But you also notice the good balls being carried off to another game. One you’re not invited to join.

Now your passes go astray. Your shots come up short. Same effort, worse results.
Frustrating? Absolutely.

💸 Enter: The Fed

This metaphor isn’t perfect, but it’s close enough.

The dollars in your pocket, bank account, or Venmo aren’t being physically swapped—but their value is being downgraded, constantly.

Compared to just a few years ago, your money buys less. That’s inflation.

And the biggest driver? The Fed puts more dollars into circulation. More supply = each dollar is worth less.

Meanwhile, those with more money? They’re not sitting on cash! They’re putting it into assets:
Homes. Stocks. Businesses. Collectibles. Land. Things that tend to rise in price when inflation kicks in.

🏠 Example: The House That Didn’t Really Grow

Let’s say you bought a house in 1980 for $50,000.
In 2025, that house might be worth around $340,000.

Did it become 7x more valuable? Not really. It’s mostly that the dollar became weaker. That price rise is inflation, not improvement.

That’s the bait and switch: the average person holds cash, while the wealthy hold assets. Cash erodes. Assets float.

So while you’re left with a downgraded soccer ball, someone else is playing a premium match with premium gear on a field you can’t get to.

🧠 So What Can You Do?

This post won’t solve everything. I’m not pretending to fix the entire financial system.

But if you’re going to play the game, you need to know the rules.

Now that you’re aware of the quiet switch happening beneath your feet, you can start thinking differently:

  • Learn how money really works.
  • Pay attention to value, not just price.
  • Think in assets, not just cash.

Same effort. Smarter game.

Now’s the time to upgrade your knowledge, decisions and life!

Pete

Blogpost

Split Duets: We Rely On Each Other

Pete Huryk

Two songs that exist on my ’90s playlist are “All I Wanna Do” by Sheryl Crow and “Thursday Side of the Street” by Knapsack. While extremely different in popularity and tone, the two songs share the same basic content: a woman goes to a bar looking for companionship. Despite that common ground, they stand alone just fine. They were never meant to be paired together, a kind of split duet.

It reminds me of other projects from that era — movies like Tombstone and Wyatt Earp, or Prefontaine and Without Limits. They covered the same ground but chose to take separate paths.

Conversely, some songs — and some situations — rely on the tension of two. Think “Islands in the Stream” by Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton, or “Somebody That I Used to Know” by Gotye and Kimbra. In these, the juxtaposition of two perspectives is what gives the piece its power. One voice alone wouldn’t be enough to drive the point home. It’s the push and pull between them that raises the stakes.

Duets are powerful because they capture two perspectives moving toward the same destination. Obviously, Sheryl Crow and the boys from Knapsack were never going to collaborate — it just wouldn’t fit. Likewise, the producers of Tombstone and Wyatt Earp had different visions for their stories. They ended up releasing two similar movies within about a year of each other. Each has strengths, but maybe together they could have created something even more compelling.

At the moment, we seem to be stuck in a world of split duets, despite the fact that we desperately need to be singing the same tune. Relationally and politically, we’re going “solo” because “the other side is just [fill in the blank].” In relationships, there seems to be a growing disconnect between men and women. Maybe I’m in a content silo, but my own experience seems to back it up: men and women increasingly seem at odds over how relationships should work.

Politically, we also seem to believe that one side can “fix” what the other has broken. But the unspoken role of government now seems more about thwarting the other side than moving the country forward.

These are duets that cannot be split. Men and women need to be willing to engage in meaningful, fruitful relationships — for the sake of future generations, if nothing else. Our elected officials must find ways to work together if they truly hope to govern. Splitting these duets would lead only to poor outcomes for us all.

So how do we start singing from the same song sheet? First, recognize — as Dolly and Kenny said — “we rely on each other.” Despite the preference for encountering a bear in the woods, no genie is going to make all the men (or women) disappear. Even if it were possible, the consequences would be disastrous. We have to bring each other back to the table.

Seeing the value of the other voice is part of the equation. No one gets to hit all the important notes alone — the song only works when it flows together.

None of this is easy. And no, it won’t be solved by a single blogpost. There’s too much momentum behind the splitting. But the first step is recognizing that this is a duet, and solo performances just aren’t going to cut it anymore.

We need to find our way back to a collective mindset — not an exclusionary one. Again, not easy. Just necessary.

“We rely on each other!”

Blogpost, self-reliance

The Price and The Prize

Pete Huryk

One letter apart, yet worlds away.
The price and the prize—nearly identical in spelling, almost inextricably linked. But our feelings toward them couldn’t be more different.

The prize is desired, fawned over, coveted.
The price is lamented, haggled, resented.

The prize gets downplayed when missed.
The price gets inflated once paid.

Choose your prizes wisely. They shape your focus. They steer your life.
Every prize comes with a price—and the price is the only part that’s guaranteed.
So choose prices worth paying—ones that shape you into someone stronger.

In the end, what lingers isn’t what you got.
It’s how you feel about the path you walked.

Prize yourself!

Pete

Blogpost, self-reliance

The Limbo and High Jump

Pete Huryk

In elementary school gym class, the limbo was one of my favorite activities. My younger self was extremely adept at contorting my body in order to get low to the ground without touching it or knocking off the bar. In middle school, I was introduced to high jump. The concept was largely the same but in reverse. Do everything that you could in order to avoid knocking the bar off the standards while going over. If you’ve never run track and field, you might not know that the term used for the platform/measuring device is the standards. To be honest, I’d not given the word much thought until I came up with the idea for the blogpost.

The limbo and high jump are largely opposites that never meet because one is often a drunken party game and the other is an athletic event only done by a handful of people. Mostly the limbo creates comedy as increasingly more people fail in mildly ridiculous ways. High jump creates heartbreak and champions (more the former than the latter) as individuals look to push themselves to the very last inch, centimeter or millimeter. While I loved both at one time, I’ve spent a lot more time pursuing high jump. As an event, it’s more interesting. My concern is that not enough people are choosing high jump, they’re opting for the limbo (metaphorically speaking).

Everyday people make choices about who they are going to be in their lives. No doubt, there are lots of stresses and issues that people deal with regularly. In no way do I want to diminish anyone’s struggles. My concern comes from what seems to be a cultural shift toward limboing through life. The bar keeps getting lowered and some people seem to be intent on trying to slide underneath. More effort seems to be put into finding cheats or excuses than toward the project at hand.

On the other side of the equation is the high jump. The metaphorical and incremental increase of ability, attention and training until you eventually reach your true limits. It’s daunting because it requires squarely facing our inadequacies, shortcomings and self-image. Reaching higher heights only brings us closer to finding out what we’re not capable of doing (yet)!

As anyone who has read my blog for a while knows, this is not a finger wagging session meant to make anyone feel badly about their diet, career, workout program… whatever. It’s a self-reflection that I put out into the world in the hopes that the things that I struggle with can help someone else. So if you, like me, have been doing the limbo in an area of your life where you’d like to be high jumping, remember! There’s always a bar (or standard). You can choose to go above it or below it. That’s up to you! I’d rather live in a world where more people are high jumping than limboing!

Explode!

Pete

Blogpost, self-reliance

The Show Up Skills

Pete Huryk

At this point, it’s so common in movies that we barely think about it anymore. A character’s extraordinary abilities just show up. Either they were acquired long before we “met” them—like John Wick or Jason Bourne—or they’re bestowed in an instant—like Spider-Man or Captain America.

While these stories have become pervasive, deep down, we know they aren’t realistic.

I regularly encounter this wishful thinking—the desire for something for nothing. It happens most often in class when a student hears me speaking Spanish to another teacher. Without fail, someone says, “I wish I could do that!” But the same person has put almost no effort into learning the language. They just want it to show up.

Now, I fully recognize that we may someday reach a Matrix-level reality where skills are downloaded instantly. But until then, we are bound to the process. Skills must be trained, honed, and maintained. That’s one of the reasons I’ve always gravitated toward the Rocky movies. They never ignored the work. Sure, a montage speeds things up for the audience, but the message is clear: the skills had to be earned.

And yet, here we are—caught in a game where we hope the abilities we long for will magically appear. But the truth is, it’s not about skills showing up—it’s about you showing up. Again and again. Doing the hard, tedious, sometimes unpleasant work required to build yourself. It won’t be easy, instant, or even guaranteed, but it’s far more realistic than waiting for a shortcut that never comes.

Your moment—your opportunity—is coming. When it arrives, will you have the skills to seize it? Or will you keep lamenting that the breaks never seem to go your way? Opportunities exist. That’s not in question. What is in question is your persistence.

Life is already a gift, and right now is called the present for a reason. It’s time to take action.

Don’t just dream—wake up and act!

Pete