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Beyond Blind Blaming
Hero to Zero, Hidden Truths, and Beyond Blind Blaming | Kevin St. Clergy
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Welcome back to Beyond Blind Blaming. I'm Kevin St. Clergy, and this episode will be a little different. A year ago, almost to the day, we launched this podcast. Since then, We've recorded over 50 interviews with some incredible people. Entrepreneurs, authors, and folks who've built remarkable things and learned hard lessons along the way. Over 50 conversations, over 500,000 downloads, and I'm grateful for every single one. But here's what kept coming up. After episode after episode, I'd get the same question landing in my inbox. Kevin, what got you started in all of this? What sent you down this road in the first place? Some of you have read the book, some of you haven't gotten to it yet. So I thought I'd try something this week. And next week, two solo episodes. Just me. No guest, no interview, just the story behind why Beyond Blind Blaming exists in the first place. Today, in episode one, I'm going to read you the introduction to the book. This is where it all starts. It's the why behind everything we do. This is a bit of an experiment, and I want your honest take. If something lands, if something makes you think, or if you've got feedback for me, I'd love to hear it. Welcome to Beyond Blind Blaming. This is the place where we explore how easily hidden truths can hold us back, trapping us in cycles of frustration and blame, often without even realizing what's truly stopping us. Through my work with thousands of clients in live events, coaching programs, and mastermind groups, I've seen how uncovering these truths lead to incredible breakthroughs. The insights in this audiobook have transformed my personal relationships and career and enhanced my opportunities for wealth and leadership. I believe they can do the same thing for you. All right, let's get into the introduction. Introduction from Hero to Zero Hero When I was 10 years old, baseball was everything to me. I began with T ball and worked my way up through the leagues. Throughout those years, my father always coached my team. But when my younger brother turned eight and joined the league, my dad decided to coach his team instead. I guess he figured I was well on my way and wanted to get my brother off to a good start. Unfortunately, his absence left me riddled with anxiety during practice and games, and I couldn't seem to shake it. My father guided me through every detail and strategy of the game. He was the one who taught me how to catch and throw a ball, patiently showing me the correct grip and stance. He taught me how to swing a bat, connect with the ball, and hit confidently off a tee. He wasn't just my coach. He was the one who made me feel secure on the field. The idea of stepping onto the field without him by my side felt unfamiliar and unsettling, as if I'd lost a piece of what made playing baseball so special to me. While I wanted to support my brother, I couldn't help but feel unsettled about what it would mean to play without my dad's guidance. Though nervous about the change, I moved to the 10 year old league with two energetic young coaches fresh out of college who quickly made me feel at ease. After assessing my skills, I went from shortstop to second base, A change that irritated my dad, who had always positioned me at shortstop. But it proved to be the right call. My arm wasn't strong enough for those long throws from shortstop, but at second base, I thrived on the field. When it was time for me to step up to the plate to bat, I hit the ball consistently, sending it right over the second baseman's head for a base hit almost every time. Then came our first scrimmage against the previous year's championship team. We were ready, energized from practicing, feeling strong and prepared. But things didn't go as planned. We got crushed, 32 to 3. Sitting in the dugout afterward, wiping away tears, my teammates could barely look at one another. But our coaches didn't let us wallow. Instead, they doubled down on the fundamentals. Fielding, batting, teamwork, we improved steadily, as did my confidence. By season's end, my batting average was around.550, a number that would have made Babe Ruth proud. Our team kept winning, climbing toward a rematch with that same championship team. In a story that felt scripted by a baseball fairy tale, we faced the same team again in the championship game. This time, we were ready. We fought hard and won, beating the team that had once seemed unbeatable. That victory remains one of my proudest memories. I was at the peak of my game, and people noticed. Dreams of playing for the Texas Longhorns and maybe even the Texas Rangers, felt within reach. During the off season, I practiced relentlessly. I covered my room with posters of my heroes, imagining myself in the big leagues with same commanding presence. My dad and others constantly encouraged me, bragging about my dedication and potential. Overhearing conversations about my chances of playing college ball, maybe even going pro, further fueled my passion. Those ambitions became my guiding star. Zero. Within one year, though, everything changed. At age 11, I stepped up to the plate, riding high on confidence. But something was different this time. I started swinging and missing. From hitting almost every ball now to missing every pitch, my batting average plummeted to zero. In one season, I went from hero to zero. It was devastating. I was doing everything right, practicing daily, pushing myself hard. Coaches and teammates pushed me harder, but my parents pushed me the hardest. I heard constant shouts from them in the stands, play to win this time. Focus. Try adjusting your attitude, Kevin. Coaches echoed their feelings. Come on, get your head in the game. But none of their words helped to change the way that I played. Complete failure. Each missed swing increased my frustration. Walking back to the dugout, I saw the disappointment in the faces of the parents who were blaming me for our losing streak. My dad's expression said it all, and I could already hear the upcoming car ride lecture. Before I shut the door, I knew exactly how it would go. I would hear the same old speech about how important my mindset was, how I needed to play to win, and how I had to be more aggressive on the field. Dad would probably break it down point by point, telling me what I could have done better and what I would need to work on during practice the next day. Thinking about it made me sink into my seat a little deeper, dreading the predictable routine of critiques and pep talks that always seemed to follow every game. The following season in the minor league meant to prepare us for high school baseball, I wasn't even playing. Benched by the coach, I spent the entire season watching my team play the game I loved. I observed from the dugout through the chain link fence, and my heart grew bitter. I blamed my dad for no longer being my coach and thought that change must be what had messed with my swing and my mindset. I blamed my new coaches for being too hard on me. And then I began to blame myself. I was soon consumed with self doubt, hatred and betrayal. I had spent years of my life working on my baseball skills. My childhood dream was to play in high school and proudly wear a letterman's jacket to go on to play in college and maybe even get a shot at the pros. All while watching my mom and dad in the stands. For them to see their advice and our hard work had paid off. However, life had other plans. This was my first experience with complete failure. My dreams of following my baseball heroes, like Cal Ripken Jr. Who won Rookie of the Year in 1982, or Reggie Jackson, whose effortless swing made him a home run leader, seemed to belong to a different person. I thought of legends like Wade Boggs, who was able to get on base with each at bat and dominated the league in batting average, and the Ryan Express, Nolan Ryan, whose blazing fastballs might as well have caught fire. On their way to the plate, I saw my dreams of following in their cleats slowly slip away. I kept asking myself, how did I end up here? What am I doing wrong? Uncovering the hidden truth. Two years passed like this. Confined to the dugout, I kept trying, kept pushing, hoping something would change. Finally, after one last season on the sidelines, I quit baseball. The dream was dead and I felt like a failure. Then, two weeks after my final season, I ended up at the eye doctor. Not because anyone suspected a vision problem, but because my mom had scheduled a routine checkup. It was one of those fluke appointments that didn't seem important at the time. The eye doctor's words changed everything. Sorry, kid. You're practically blind without glasses. Suddenly, it all made sense. Those swings and misses, the frustration, the self doubting. They weren't because I wasn't good enough. The truth was, I literally couldn't see the ball. No one, not my dad, my coaches, or even I, had thought of considering something as simple as eyesight being the problem with my poor baseball performance. Looking back, it wasn't about pointing fingers or assigning blame. It was about realizing we are all so focused on the wrong thing that. That we missed the real issue entirely. I never realized I had poor vision because it didn't seem to affect me in daily life or at school. I was a straight A student who always sat in the front of the classroom, so I never had trouble seeing the chalkboard. I thought everything was normal. But once I got glasses, everything changed. I still remember the first time I put them on. I looked at the chalkboard and thought, wow, the writing is so clear now. It was like a light bulb went off in my brain. But the moment that stuck with me most was when I saw leaves on the trees for the first time. They weren't just green blobs like I'd always seen, but individual leaves, each full of detail and texture. The world came alive in a way I didn't even know I had been missing. It was a humbling, almost magical experience to realize how much I had overlooked simply because I couldn't see well. The underlying problem, the real issue. Throughout this journey, the adults in my life never stopped blaming me for what turned out to be beyond my control. They had me blaming myself too, which was devastating. Sound familiar? No one saw the actual problem. Instead, they blamed everything else. My attitude, my motivation, my swing. Anything but the actual cause. They pushed me harder and harder, trying to solve a problem they couldn't even diagnose. I call this behavior blind Blaming. It's at the heart of countless unresolved issues affecting people's health, personal lives, as well as organizations and and careers. It happens when people get so caught up in looking for who or what is at fault, they miss what is truly happening. Beyond Blind Blaming My experience in baseball taught me a lesson I have carried into every challenge since. Growth and success begin when we stop blind blaming, both the harsh voices from others and our own internal critic, and start looking for the actual problem, we have to be willing to question our assumptions, to step back and see if there's something we've missed. Because sometimes the problem isn't who, where, or what we think it is. The real breakthrough comes when we choose to be curious instead of condemning. When we seek answers instead of rushing to reprimands. It means looking at situations through fresh eyes, searching for what is working before focusing on what is not. When I started empathizing instead of disregarding others and myself, I discovered solutions hiding in plain sight. Sometimes we are so busy defending against external blame or beating ourselves up that we miss the actual path forward. I liken it to wearing blinders made of accusations and self doubt. But when we finally take them off, we often find that the cage we thought we were in was partly of our own making. The day I pulled the plug on baseball, I walked away with a new mission to never let myself get stuck in a mental cage again. Whether built by others expectations or my own harsh judgments, I went on to hit many home runs in life in ways I couldn't have imagined back then. Not on the baseball field, but in my career. Zero to hero in September 2022, almost 40 years after my humiliating baseball season at age 11 and after a grueling year of due diligence work, my company was finally sold. The day it closed was one of those rare life changing moments. 20 years of hard work and the emotional rollercoaster of owning a business had all paid off. When the sale was official, I did something I had imagined for two decades. I took a picture off my dream board. A picture I'd kept there all that time, representing one specific goal. I call it my one stupid purchase. So I called my financial advisor and asked, well, can I get it? He laughed and said, yes, Kevin, you can go buy your car. I didn't wait for him to say anything else. I hung up, laughed, and headed to the dealership with the same picture in hand. The excitement I felt was something else. I'd gotten to this moment with the help of many people along the way. Mentors like David Fry Russell Brunson and Charlie Cook, as well as my incredible team, who'd worked just as hard, if not harder, than I did. Their support and expertise were essential, and I'll always be grateful. I walked into the Lamborghini dealership, and the salesman, smiling, directed me to the dock where my car awaited. Looking around, I noticed a family nearby, a husband, wife and their son, who was about 13 years old. The boy was posing in some of the showroom cars, beaming as his parents took photos. Curious, I asked one of the employees, what's going on? He replied, well, we encourage everyone to take photos with our cars, especially if it's for a dream board. You never know. Like you, they might come back one day to buy it. The dealership was onto something. I wish more parents would help their kids dream big things, even if they seem extravagant. I approached the parents and asked if I could give their son a little something to inspire him. They agreed, so I handed him the picture that I had had on my own dream board for so many years. And on the back I wrote, never let anyone steal your dreams. It's hard to beat someone who never quits. I encouraged the kid to start his own dream board. With this as his first picture, I shared my story about how nearly everything I'd ever put on my dream board had come true. I'll never forget the huge smile on his face and the pride beaming from his parents. It was a bit emotional, actually. Every struggle, sacrifice and triumph I had experienced over the years came full circle right there in the dealership. In fact, I had to step away to the bathroom to collect myself. When I returned, an employee approached, surprised I'd given the picture away. Weren't you going to keep that in the car with you? He asked. I was, I replied. But now it's the kid's turn to dream big. Driving the car home was exhilarating. I'd also saved a bottle of Verve Cliqueau champagne for the occasion. A few close friends who had supported me along the way came over to join my celebration. One friend asked a question that stopped me cold. So, Kev, what's next? I laughed, thinking he was joking. But he looked serious. I know you. You're not about to retire. You're only 50. Well, I don't know, I admitted, a bit shaken. Later that night, when the house was empty, I found myself in my office, staring at my virtual whiteboard, where I kept my yearly goals. The question lingered. What is next? I loved what I did coaching business owners and individuals. It never felt like work because it was deeply satisfying, but maybe it was time to reach people in a new way. I noticed a book I'd recently bought on how to give a TEDx talk that sounded both thrilling and terrifying. I'd given talks around the world, but narrowing my message down to a single focused 18 minute talk seemed daunting. I joined a mastermind group led by Heather Monahan, who was featured on Ted.com, and after about a year of working with her and the group, she introduced me to a friend who was a speech writer and a coach. With her small team, they guided me through a process designed to uncover compelling topics. The group asked me to start by listing my biggest life lessons, a two week exercise that was both powerful and challenging. When I shared my list with the group, one story, the baseball story, stood out. As we dove deeper, I realized I had a concept, Blind Blaming. The idea resonated with everyone. We brainstormed, refined, and crafted the speech. Around that time, I launched a podcast and invited some successful authors and speakers as guests, as after each recording, I asked them for a small favor. Could you take a few minutes to read my TEDx talk draft? They all responded positively. One person who has experienced much success said, kevin, you have a duty to write this concept as a book. It could impact millions of lives. Excited, I went to work on this book and explored the concepts more deeply. The next year, I joined another mastermind group, the Inner Circle, led by Russell Brunson, who had helped me start the business I'd sold. At our first live meeting, I presented the concepts of blind blaming in a speech to him and about 30 other highly successful entrepreneurs. Afterward, Russell himself came up to me, thrilled by the concept. Others approached me too, asking, so when is the book coming out? Everything you detail applies to my business, my clients, even my family. It was incredible to see how the blind blaming framework resonated across different people and industries. The idea of helping millions of people move beyond misplaced blame and focus on the real problems in their lives and at work has turned into a mission for me. This audiobook is a result of that journey, and I truly believe it has the potential to change lives. But it only works if people are willing to dig deep and do the work. How this audiobook will change your life My journey has shown how easily hidden truths can hold us back, keeping us trapped in cycles of frustration without realizing what is truly stopping us. Through my work, with thousands of clients and live events, coaching programs, and mastermind groups, I've seen how uncovering these truths lead to incredible breakthroughs. The insights in this audiobook have transformed my personal relationships and career and enhanced my opportunities for wealth and leadership. I believe they can do the same thing for you Beyond Blind Blaming offers a Clear Path Forward through the RCD method, Reflect, Connect and Decide. Through extensive research and real world application, you'll discover why traditional problem solving often fails and how blind blaming keeps us trapped in negative patterns. You'll learn to identify and overcome the true obstacles to your success in business, career, finance, relationships and personal growth areas where you may have felt permanently stuck. The path forward requires three fundamental shifts release blame based thinking, acknowledge your natural blind spots, and engage in collaborative discovery. While these principles are straightforward, their application is revolutionary. This journey demands commitment, but the rewards are profound. You will gain clarity where there was once confusion. You will experience progress where there was stagnation. And you will have breakthrough solutions to long standing challenges. Are you ready? Because if there's one thing I've learned, it's that we all have a choice. We can stay stuck in the box or we can step out and start playing our own game. Let's go. So that's the introduction. If that pulled you in and you want the rest, head over to blind blaming.com you can grab all three versions, the audiobook, a hardcover that I'll personally sign to you, and the PDF, all for $15 plus some other bonuses I've thrown in. That's blindblaming. Com and next week, chapter one. I'll see you then.