Even if you don’t understand your kids, support them.

Back in 2006 I came back from playing professional soccer in Sweden and had this grandiose idea that Salt Lake City desperately needed a sneaker shop. A grandiose idea that with some amazing help from some key people, actually became a reality. On 10/10/2006 I opened the sneaker and clothing boutique, “10”.

I have stories for days.

Without going into detail, here are my “top 10” (1-10, 10 being the best):

1. A star from High School Musical came in and shopped and I didn’t know who he was until he left and one of my customers told me. (Sorry, Corbin.)
2. Hours spent drooling over limited edition Nike Footwear catalogs and an unrequited excitement every time the UPS guy walked through the door with boxes tagged with a Nike or Adidas warehouse return address.
3. Knocking down walls, taking up tile, laying down wood flooring, and putting together Ikea furniture. Turning my vision into my profession.
4. Testing my detective skills by searching Myspace (yes it was still at it’s peak in ‘06) for the kid that broke in and stole 5K worth of inventory, finding him, telling the cops, and still not having them do anything about it.
5. Surviving 2 TV interviews, a magazine cover photoshoot, and a few newspaper articles with the angst that lights and cameras cause me.
6. Privately opening the shop for Kanye West’s band.
7. Creating a custom sneaker studio in my shop and hiring an amazing artist that ended up hand painting sneakers for TI, Kyle Beckerman, and many others.
8. The family and friends that worked, shopped, and encouraged me day in and day out—in every way.
9. My business partner who believed in me enough to give me an opportunity and took on the challenge with me.

Last, is #10. Although the above stories have plenty of details that I could add to them, this is one of the most vivid memories I have from my days of “10” and deserves a much deeper dive. It’s one of those memories that instantly pops up when I think about the shop. You know, the type of memory that you’re pretty sure your brain somehow saved as a photograph so you would never forget it.

My dad always said if he retired he wanted to work at a Home Depot. I can’t explain how much he loved Home Depot. I don’t know if it was because the smell of the pine instantly took him back to his days of derby car building in Wichita, Kansas. Or maybe it was the stacks of half gauge sand paper and endless colors of spray paint that he carefully chose from when building his 11 electric guitars while he was fighting cancer. I never asked him, and now I wish I would’ve. I do, however, know if he had ever applied there, he definitely could’ve been their most overqualified applicant, and he would’ve looked dang good in one of those orange aprons.

Back in September 2006, My dad and I had just returned to “10” from our trip to Home Depot where we had picked up 3 cans of pure white paint.

Picture this: A man who operated on baby’s hearts every single day, doing some of the most complicated heart surgeries in the country, standing on his feet for 8 hours straight, with someone’s child’s heart in his hands—literally. His movements had to be perfect. His focus, uninterrupted and intentional. The impact of his work incomparable. I can’t imagine having the capacity to concentrate flawlessly for 8 hours straight, and my dad did it every single day. And here he is, scrubs on, 8 steps up on a ladder, rolling white paint on the ceiling of his daughter’s 900 square foot sneaker shop. He’d paint as much as he could before climbing down, move the ladder a couple feet, and climb back up —paint splattering down into his hair.

Here was one of the best Pediatric heart surgeon’s in the world putting his time (and muscles) into the store that I had put all my money, sweat, and heart into. He wasn’t there because he had this immeasurable love of sneakers or an insatiable desire to paint ceilings. And he wasn’t there because he totally understood my vision. He was there because he supported me. He was there because he wanted to be a part of me living my dreams.

My dad didn’t always understand my passions. He didn’t always get why I pursued the things I did. But, I always had his support and he still encouraged me and helped me get where I wanted to be, regardless. He loved me unconditionally—one of the best gifts I’ll ever receive.

Is there someone in your life like my dad was in mine? If there is, go thank them. Thank your wife or husband for buying you an office chair so you can pursue your passion of building your own online business from home (without back problems). Thank your brother or sister for lending you their old school tiffany saloon lamp so you can have the perfect ambiance in your retail store. Thank your best friend for bringing you lunch on the days you had a to-do list 3 days long. Thank God for giving you the talents to pursue your passions, but more importantly for gracing your life with the people that help you live your dreams.

Dear Dad, thank you for supporting me even if you didn’t understand me.

It’s all in the details. Good to see legendary street artists like Andre collaborate with great brands. 

Read more: Complex Magazine

Eagerly elevate every day. 

(“E” artwork by Jordan Metcalf)

This is what I ask God every day…

I’ve always had an affinity for skateboarding. These engraved decks are bringing it back. 

(Check more photos on Behance)

What Zidane Taught Me About Teaching the Beautiful Game

I’ve been playing the beautiful game for over 25 years. About 10 years ago I really started getting into watching international games. In fact, I have a library of VHS tapes (yeah, you heard it right) that I still watch almost every night. France vs. Brazil in the 2006 World Cup is a classic, in my opinion.

Zidane was artistic in his simplicity. Dominating in his elegant play. Mesmerizing in his vision and execution. He was the man. 

I studied him. I copied him. I tried to imitate him. I rewinded and replayed his movements on the tv, in my head and then in my movements as I spent hours trying to replicate his moves and technique. 

There was some benefit to my game from my Zidane studies. But what was even more beneficial was… studying Zidane helped me learn not only how to teach myself, but how I could break it down and teach someone else. It’s one thing to be good at the beautiful game, but it’s another level to be good and pass on that goodness to the youth.

Make sure to check out the amazing Zidane print (and other soccer prints) by Stanley Chow. 

Intrigued by a man that’s suited up, but has his hands on his passion.

I love when sports and fashion collide. Coach wallets made from vintage baseball gloves. 

“Over the summer Coach launched its “Baseball Heritage Collection”, which included limited edition wallets crafted from 70-year-old baseball gloves. Coach acquired the vintage leather on eBay and disassembled hundreds of mitts to construct the accessory collection. Currently out of stock online, hit the thumbs for a closer look at these incredible wallets by Coach.”

Found on Complex

I admit it, I have a minor obsession with concrete art. 

Thanks, From Up North

The best way to start the day. 

the10influence:

I designed this in honor of today’s holiday. This is definitely one of the most important parts of the Declaration of Independence.

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.”

Happy 4th of July!

Sometimes Inspiration Doesn’t Fall Far From The Family Tree. Meet My Great Uncle, Jim.

We all go through times in our lives where we’re unsure of the direction we’re going. We may ask ourselves—am I doing enough? Is my current job just adding to my wallet, or is it adding to the greater good? Are the people around me making me better or just making me look better?

Everyone needs inspiration. It doesn’t have to come from reading the International Bestseller “The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho and traveling to the pyramids to discover your Personal Legend (although I’m tempted and am only on page 90). Sometimes the people closest to you have lived the most inspirational lives. Their legacy is part of your story. Inspiration can’t get much bigger than that.

Now’s a good time to introduce my great uncle, James Smoot Coleman, or Jim. I’ve never met him. I never got a chance to hear how many countries he worked in or how he raised his 2 sons. I do know, however, that he has walked in the same side door that I walk in every day. He’s sat in the chair that I’m typing this in, although probably not for long. According to my grandmother Jane, he was always on the go. Fun and ambitious. An unmatched sense of humor. I also know that he was the first director of the UCLA African Studies Center. In 1978 he was the associate director of the Rockefeller Foundation. (No, not Jay-Z’s Roc-A-Fella. Hov, you’re still Brooklyn’s Finest though.)

He was among the first American scholars to not only acknowledge and understand the African perspective, but he tirelessly worked to emphasize its importance. Detail oriented. Limitless vision. Full of graceful charm. All things I strive to have. And be. Inspiration—no doubt.

Simple, brilliant outdoor library installation.

“Massimo Bartolini’s outdoor library installation titled Bookyard is one of the most simple, brilliant installations to ever exist. Located in the middle of a vineyard in Ghent, Belgium for the festival, TRACK: A Contemporary City Conversation, visitors can take any of the books for a donation.”

via Complex

This may just make me a fan of Foursquare again. 

I’ve debated whether 10% off a coffee or $5 off some soccer cleats is worth broadcasting where I may be, and when. Although the competitive aspect of Foursquare has kept me mildly engaged, I have yet to be inspired to be fully engaged… until now. 

(Red) and Starbucks have teamed up to create Foursquare’s largest Non-Profit campaign yet. They sure do know my weakness. Coffee and a chance to be a part of something that aims to make the world a better place? That’s definitely a combination right up my alley. 

So, that being said, I apologize in advance for my ceaseless Starbucks check-in’s between June 1 and June 10th. For every check-in $1 goes to fight AIDS. 

Check out all the details of the campaign here: (RED)RUSH

(Thanks for the tip, Techcrunch)

Why hello, Stormy Monday. It’s really nice to meet you.