A reminder about big dreams and hard work

What can a business leader learn from a 13-year-old kid?

A lot, it turns out.

We're just starting the eighth grade when my buddy Craig announces, “I’m getting a horse.”

I figure he’s tired of riding around on a beat-up bike with no handlebars and—for a while—no seat. (Yes, he really did that.) Or maybe he’s amped up after watching some cowboy flick over the weekend.

Either way...a horse? Not possible. We live in a suburban neighborhood where the yards are, at best, a third of an acre. 

Good luck trying to house a horse between your little sister’s swing set and your mom’s clothesline.

Craig is unbothered by this inconvenient detail. He wants a horse, and he tells his dad as much.

Mr. Robinson—in a fatherhood Hall of Fame moment—says, “Sure!"

But then, after a short pause, he adds a lllooonnnggg list of conditions:

“Now, Craigie, you can't just go buy a horse until you first learn all about horses—how to ride, how to tell a good horse from a nag, how to care for such a fine animal.

"And, of course, you’ll have to pay for it...and buy a saddle and all the other equipment with YOUR money.

"Then you'll need even MORE money to board it...at a stable close enough to walk to or ride your bike to, because your mom and I can’t be driving you back and forth every day.”

It's a buzz kill of a list.

But Craig is unfazed. He wants a horse. I mean, he REALLY wants it.

So, Craig gets busy. He starts holing up in the school library for equine research, even during lunch. Suddenly he's using weird words like “farrier” and “fetlock.” Meanwhile, he’s working every odd job he can find to build up his horse fund.

One by one, my laser-focused friend checks off his dad’s prerequisites.

Flash forward to the late spring day I am weeding a flower bed in my front yard and I hear a strange sound.

I look up, and there’s Craig…clip-clopping toward me like some kind of junior high John Wayne.

He's mounted on HIS VERY OWN HORSE. He's wearing a cowboy hat, cowboy boots, and a grin as big as Texas.

I've seen some unforgettable things in my time: The miracle of childbirth. The sun rising over the Grand Canyon. A pride of lions devouring a wildebeest.

But that mental snapshot of Craig riding his big, crazy dream right up my driveway? That indelible picture of what hard work can do?

Fifty years later, I'm still inspired.