What Matters Most

This past weekend, I had the chance to spend a few days on Pickwick Lake with four men who mean the world to me—Dick Clark, Aaron Commons, Chad Phillips, and Mike Lemley. These aren’t just fishing buddies. These are men I went to war with. We deployed together, flew together, and faced some of the toughest moments of our lives side by side. It had been eight years since some of us had seen each other. But the second we linked up, it felt like no time had passed.

This wasn’t just a casual fishing trip. Back in our operational days, I spent more time with these guys than I did with my own family. Our deployments were long, exhausting, and usually took us to places most people will never go. These were the men I leaned on. They were—and still are—my family.

Unless you’ve lived it, it’s hard to explain the kind of bond you build in those moments. Not with everyone, but with a chosen few—the ones you trust with your life, who know your soul at its strongest and its weakest. These four are that for me. No question, no hesitation—if any one of them needed me, I’d be there. And I know the same is true in reverse.

I’ll be honest—I almost didn’t go.

When the guys first started planning the trip, I kept my distance. Not because I didn’t want to be there—I did. Desperately. But I wasn’t sure I could step away. Between the work we’re doing at the NPFL, sponsor obligations, our anglers, planning, production—it felt safer to stay locked in at the office. I didn’t want to commit to something and then back out.

But thankfully, someone else knew better—my wife, Michele.

She saw what I couldn’t. She told me straight, “You need to go. You need this.” And what I didn’t know at the time was that she was texting the guys behind my back, telling them to stay on me, to make sure I didn’t bail. She wasn’t just supportive—she was orchestrating the whole thing. And, as usual, she was absolutely right.

We spent three days on the water. We fished, but that wasn’t the point. We stayed up too late. Slept in. Talked about life. About family. About the ones we’ve lost. We didn’t turn the TV on once. No agenda. No rush. Just time.

We’re all living in a go-fast world. Every day brings a new fire to put out, a new deadline, a new obligation. The pressure is constant. The pace is relentless. And if we’re not careful, it blinds us. It pulls our attention away from the people who count on us—not just professionally, but personally. We get so wrapped up in the grind that we lose sight of the things that truly matter. The people who need us. The ones who’ve always been there.

And that time changed something in me.

It reminded me of something a lot of us forget: We give too much of ourselves to the wrong things. To the wrong people. To noise. Obligation. Distraction. Meanwhile, the people who bring us peace, who show up when it matters, who genuinely want to see us win, get what’s left over.

That needs to change.

We need to protect those relationships that protect us. We need to invest in the people who make us better. The ones who have our back no matter what. The ones who know the real version of us and still choose to show up.

These guys are all busy too. Dick flies for Delta. Mike and Aaron work for a major defense software company. Chad trains the next generation of special operations aircrew. But we made the time. Because—we all realized—it’s not about being available. It’s about making it matter.

And now, I’m making a commitment: I’m going to be just as dedicated to the people in my life as I am to the work in my life. We’re already planning next year’s trip. And we’ve all agreed—we’re staying connected. We’re not going to wait another eight years. Not again.

The outdoors has always had a way of pulling people together. Slowing the world down just enough to have the conversations that count. And that’s a big part of what we’re building here at the NPFL. Yeah, it’s about competition. But more than that—it’s about community. Culture. Connection.

That’s what we protect here. That’s what we fight for.

So, here’s my challenge to you: Make the time. Reach out to the people who truly matter … the ones who’ve stood by you … the ones who’ve earned your loyalty. Don’t wait for “someday.” Be the one who calls. Be the one who shows up. Be the friend, the brother, the constant.

Because in the end, the fish won’t remember you.

But the people will.