About 10 years ago, I was playing racquetball with one of the best players on the planet. His name is Alan Harris. He is a rock-star home re-modeler. We had played for 20 years and he stops me one day and says, “Hey, why didn’t you ever tell me you were famous?”. I told him, “because I never was.”
He said he needed to talk to someone who could keep a secret (that he had a big interview with someone famous to re-model his new house) and knew how to talk to famous people. I said, "Who is it?" He says, "Charlie Weis." I said, “You mean the Chiefs coach?” He says, "Yeah." I said, “Well he is a big man and has bad knees and likes to watch film so I would focus on the elevator all the way past the kitchen upstairs to the bedroom and film room with many comfortable chairs.”
Then he says, "Well, what happened to you, why did you quit being famous when everyone knew your name?"
I said, “Well, I became a dad. My name changed. I became Matthew’s Dad, Sarah’s Dad, Drew’s Pops and Will's Pops.”
That’s what happens when your kids are born. Your name changes. He says, “that is the coolest thing I have ever heard."
I said, “Your serve."