Home Plate Moved…

There is something strange about saying goodbye to a place. Especially when there is absolutely nothing wrong with it.

Several years ago, the ballpark where our Major League Baseball team played was preparing to close its doors as the home of the Texas Rangers. A brand-new ballpark was being built right across the street. The old ballpark wasn’t falling apart. It wasn’t outdated to the point where you expected pieces of the roof to land in your nachos. It wasn’t some ancient stadium held together with duct tape, hope, and taxpayer money. It was beautiful. It had that classic baseball look with red brick, green grass, towering stands, and the feeling that somebody had deliberately tried to capture a little bit of the old ballparks when they built it.

And it worked. You walked through those gates and knew you were at a baseball game. You could hear the crowd before you ever found your seat. You could smell the hot dogs, popcorn, peanuts, and everything else that apparently becomes perfectly acceptable to eat when you’re sitting in a plastic chair watching grown men chase a little white ball around a field.

The place had character. It also had one fairly significant problem. It was in Texas and Texas has this little thing we like to call summer ☀️. For those who have never experienced a Texas summer, imagine opening your oven to check on a pizza and then climbing inside. Now imagine doing that for nine innings. Baseball is supposed to be America’s pastime. In July and August around here, it occasionally felt more like America’s endurance test.

So a new ballpark was built with something the old one desperately needed. Air conditioning. Technically, it has a retractable roof, but let’s not get caught up in the engineering details. The important part is that someone finally figured out how to watch baseball in Texas without slowly turning into beef jerky.

Still, I was sad to see the old ballpark go. Our family has been Rangers fans for years. Our children grew up watching games there. We watched some of their heroes play on that field. We celebrated wins there. We suffered through losses there. Quite a few losses, actually. We are Rangers fans. Suffering is included with the ticket. That ballpark had become part of our family’s history.

So when the final game at he ballpark was announced, there was no way I was going to miss it. My wife, our oldest son, and I made plans to be there. Unfortunately, our other children couldn’t make it, but the three of us were determined to experience that final game. And we did. We soaked up everything. We ate too much, cheered, participated in the chants, watched the scoreboard, listened to the sounds of the crowd and smelled the food. We watched the players run onto the same field where we had watched so many games before.

I wanted to remember everything. Every sound, smell, view and every moment. And perhaps fittingly, the Rangers won. After the game, nobody rushed out. There was going to be one final ceremony. Home plate was ceremoniously removed from the old ballpark. Then it was carried across the street to the new stadium, which at the time was still very much under construction.

There was something incredibly symbolic about watching that happen. The most important spot on the old field was literally being carried into the future. We watched the ceremony and then we stayed in our seats. And stayed a little longer. And probably a little longer than we were supposed to. I think somewhere deep down I believed that as long as we remained sitting there, the ballpark wasn’t really closed.

Eventually, however, someone working at the stadium gave us that look. You know the look. It is the polite version of, “The game is over. We would also like to go home.” So we finally stood up and walked out. And I remember feeling genuinely sad.

It wasn’t just a baseball stadium. It was birthdays, family outings, summer evenings, conversations, hot dogs, cheering, disappointment, excitement, and memories of watching my children grow up. Walking through those gates for the final time felt like closing a chapter.

But across the street stood another ballpark. It was going to be new, modern, different and and air conditioned. Did I mention the air conditioning?

The new stadium eventually opened, and we began making new memories there. There were new sights, sounds, food an new traditions. And eventually something happened there that we had waited our entire lives as Rangers fans to experience. The Texas Rangers won the World Series! They didn’t actually clinch it at home, but I’m not going to get picky. We waited a very long time for that trophy.

What I once viewed as the end of something turned out to be the beginning of something else. And maybe that is what I misunderstood when I walked out of the old ballpark that night. The memories weren’t inside the bricks. They were inside us. The old ballpark didn’t give me those memories. My family did. Baseball did. Time together did.

The ballpark was simply where those memories happened. And there are still memories waiting to be made across the street. Hopefully there are a few more championships waiting there too. And definitely more hot dogs. I am very confident about the hot dogs. Oh, and air conditioning!

So, what does this have to do with running an online business? Well, I’m glad you asked!

One of the most difficult things about running a business is recognizing when something has reached its ending. Not because it was bad, because it failed or because you made a terrible decision. Sometimes something that worked perfectly well yesterday simply isn’t what you need tomorrow. That is a difficult distinction.

The old Rangers ballpark was still beautiful. People still loved it. Baseball could still be played there. But the environment had changed, the needs had changed and the expectations had changed. And eventually somebody had to make the difficult decision to build something different.

Business works the same way. The product that once sold incredibly well may stop selling. The social media platform that once sent you customers may change its algorithm. The advertising strategy that worked three years ago may barely get noticed today. Technology, competition and markets change. And perhaps most importantly, customers change. Their problems change. Their priorities change. Their buying habits change. Their expectations of businesses change.

If we refuse to change because something worked in the past, we can eventually find ourselves sitting alone in a perfectly good ballpark wondering where everybody went. That doesn’t mean we chase every shiny object that comes along. It doesn’t mean rebuilding our business every Tuesday afternoon because somebody on YouTube discovered a “revolutionary” new strategy. And it certainly doesn’t mean throwing away everything we have learned.

Quite the opposite. Remember what happened to home plate? They didn’t throw it away. They carried it across the street. I think there is an important business lesson in that. When your business changes, you don’t have to abandon everything that brought you this far. You carry the best parts with you which include your experience, values, relationships, knowledge, reputation,  mistakes, successes and your understanding of your customers.

Those things become the home plate of whatever you build next. The building may change. The technology may change and the strategy may change. But the foundation of what you have learned goes with you.

Sometimes the next chapter of your business doesn’t begin with a brilliant new idea. Sometimes it begins when you finally accept that an old chapter has ended.

Five Ways an Ending Can Become a New Beginning

1. An ending forces you to look forward. As long as something continues working reasonably well, there isn’t much pressure to change it. Endings remove that comfort. Suddenly you have to ask new questions. What comes next? What do my customers need now? What could I do differently? Those questions can be uncomfortable, but they can also lead somewhere exciting.
2. You don’t have to leave everything behind. Change doesn’t mean starting from zero. Everything you learned comes with you. Think about that home plate being carried across the street. The stadium changed. The game didn’t. In business, your experience becomes part of whatever you build next.
3. Your customers will tell you when the environment is changing. Sometimes we become so attached to what we offer that we stop paying attention to whether people still need it. Listen, ask questions and pay attention to what customers are doing, not just what they are saying. If their needs are changing, your business may need to change with them.
4. Technology creates endings and beginnings at the same time. Technology has eliminated countless ways of doing business. It has also created opportunities that would have seemed impossible only a few years earlier. We can complain about what technology replaces, or we can learn how to use what it creates. Usually, there is opportunity hiding somewhere inside the disruption.
5. Something ending does not mean it failed. This may be the most important one. We tend to judge everything by whether it lasted forever. Longevity isn’t the only measurement of success. Something can serve its purpose beautifully and still eventually come to an end. The old ballpark wasn’t a failure because the Rangers moved across the street. It served its purpose. Then it was time for something new.

This concept can be true of a business idea. Sometimes the smartest thing an entrepreneur can say is, “That worked. I learned from it. And now it’s time for what’s next.” I think that mindset is especially important for anyone building an online business today.

Things move quickly. Sometimes ridiculously quickly. Just when you finally figure out one platform, somebody changes the algorithm. Just when you learn one piece of technology, a new one arrives. Just when you think you have everything under control, apparently artificial intelligence decides it would like to join the meeting. That can be frustrating. But it can also be exciting. Because every change creates another opportunity to learn.

Sometimes the biggest thing standing between an ending and a beginning is simply being willing to walk across the street.

That is one of the things I appreciate about being part of the Internet Profits Academy. It isn’t simply about learning one tactic and hoping it works forever. It is about learning how to build an online business, serve people, adapt when necessary, and keep moving forward when the landscape changes. And there is now a FREE option. Not a free trial. A free option. That means you can step inside, take a look around, learn, and see whether the community and resources are right for you. If you have been thinking about starting an online business, growing one, changing direction, or figuring out what your own next chapter might look like, it is worth taking a look.

Now I would really like to hear from you. Have you ever experienced an ending that you were convinced was terrible at the time, only to discover later that it opened the door to something better? Maybe it happened in your business. Maybe it was a career. Maybe it was a project. Maybe it was something completely personal. Leave a comment below and tell me your story. I have a feeling most of us have at least one chapter in our lives that we desperately wanted to keep reading, only to discover that the next chapter turned out to be pretty good too.

As for me, I will always miss that old ballpark. I’ll remember walking through those gates with my family. I’ll remember the green grass. I’ll remember the crowds. I’ll remember watching my kids grow up there. And I’ll remember that final game. But I’m also looking forward to the games still ahead. The memories we haven’t made yet. The wins we haven’t celebrated yet. And, because I am a Rangers fan, probably a few heartbreaking losses we haven’t suffered through yet.

The other day I mentioned all of this to my wife. I told her, “You know, sometimes an ending isn’t really an ending. It’s just the beginning of something new.” She looked at me and said, “Wonderful. Does that mean when this baseball season ends, you’ll begin doing some of the projects around the house?” Apparently, some new beginnings can wait. At least until after the playoffs.

“What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning.” — T. S. Eliot

“When one door of happiness closes, another opens.” — Helen Keller

And of course, a few VERY BAD Dad jokes:

My wife told me every ending leads to a new beginning. So I finished the cookies and opened another package.

I decided to embrace change. So far I’ve got 37 cents.

Until next time, STAY FRESH, Friends!