In the summer of 1989, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life.  I was going to be a professional sportscaster. And, to further that plan, I had secured a terrific internship with a pioneering national sports show in Washington, D.C. For a sports-crazed college kid, I had somehow stumbled into my own version of heaven.

Then, midway through the summer, heaven got just a little bit sweeter.   I was going to cover the Washington Redskins training camp.  Road trip!

Back then, the Redskins held training camp on the idyllic campus of Dickinson College. And suddenly, there I was.

Art Monk. Gary Clark. Ricky Sanders. Darrell Green. Dexter Manley. Mark Rypien. Russ Grimm and the Hogs. These weren’t names on football cards anymore. They were walking right past me!

But as much as I was in awe of the players, I was equally fascinated by the professional sportscasters covering them. I studied how they conducted interviews, interacted with coaches and developed relationships.

One of those broadcasters was Frank Herzog.

Frank was already a well-known Washingtonian. He worked in local television, but more importantly to Redskins fans, he teamed with Sonny Jurgensen and Sam Huff to form what would become the most iconic radio trio in Washington sports history.

Before meeting him, however, a few of the old-school, hard-bitten news guys gave me the scouting report. Frank was a little soft, they told me. He brought his kids to work. He was too nice. Maybe he didn’t have the tough “edge” necessary to really succeed in the business.

Then I met him.

He asked about me. He seemed genuinely interested in my “career”—which at that point consisted largely of carrying equipment and trying desperately not to embarrass myself. He offered advice and made me feel like I belonged.

And between practice sessions, I watched him with his daughters, whom he had brought to training camp. He played with them. He laughed with them. He made sure they were comfortable. In fact, he seemed to make everyone around him comfortable.

Even at that young age, I remember thinking:

This guy has figured something out.

He understood there wasn’t just one way to succeed. He didn’t have to have an “edge” because everyone around him was “tough”. He didn’t have to become cynical because cynicism somehow looked more professional. It was possible to be successful and still be kind. It was possible to be ambitious and still be a great parent.

And that is a good thing to keep in mind in our professional and personal lives.

Remember What Got Us There

In our work lives, we sometimes convince ourselves that getting ahead requires becoming someone else. Maybe the loudest person gets noticed, so we become louder. Maybe the ruthless person gets promoted, so we become tougher. Maybe everybody stays late, so we stay late just to impress the boss—even when the people we love are waiting at home.

We all have to do our jobs.  We have to work hard, compete and sacrifice.  But we have to remember what got us there.  We can’t sacrifice our morals, our family or our basic nature simply because we think that’s what success looks like.  We have to be true to ourselves.

Stop Keeping Score

The same principle applies to our personal lives.  We can discipline our children while still being fair and loving. We can have standards in relationships while still treating people with respect. And we can respect ourselves enough to walk away from people or situations that consistently diminish us.

We can also stop comparing.

Someone will always have a bigger house. A nicer car. A better title. A more exotic vacation. Good for them!  The real question isn’t how our lives compare to someone else’s. The question is whether our life reflects what we value.

Keep the Big Picture in Mind

This perspective becomes particularly important when things go south. Jobs disappear. Relationships change. Plans fall apart. People disappoint us. We disappoint ourselves.

Resilience isn’t simply the ability to grit our teeth and endure adversity. Sometimes resilience is remembering the big picture when adversity makes our world feel very small.

It’s knowing who we are. It’s knowing what matters. And it’s refusing to let one bad chapter convince us the entire story is bad.

Many years after that summer in Carlisle, Frank Herzog was deservedly inducted into the D.C. Sports Hall of Fame. Frank said having his family present was as rewarding as the Hall of Fame itself.

That sounded exactly like the man I met all those years earlier.

My boyhood dream of becoming a professional sportscaster eventually gave way to other dreams.

But more than 35 years after that summer in Carlisle, one part of the dream hasn’t changed.

I still want to be like Frank Herzog.