The Summer of ‘71
WMMM #059 - This week, in an effort to highlight the power of emotion, I share a very personal story.
Jeff Keplar Newsletter April 7, 2024 19 min read
At the most accomplished levels of professional sales, the salesperson is an agent of change.
They help enterprises make buying decisions.
They help individuals take actions that produce a decision by an enterprise.
They use emotion to influence behavior and impact change.
We want to perform at the most accomplished levels.
We want to be at the top of our profession.
We want to be the best we can be.
How do we get there?
Are there examples of using emotion to influence behavior?
Food
We all have vivid memories of food.
Because we put so much of ourselves into the food we eat and the people we share our meals with, it's easy to see how taste directly links the food we eat and the memories we make.
That's because memories are stronger and easier to recall when attached to a physical sensation and grounded in an emotional experience.
Science backs this up.
The olfactory bulb, located near the amygdala and hippocampus in our brains, helps us distinguish various flavors.
This is important because the amygdala and hippocampus are responsible for processing emotions and storing episodic memory.
We are biologically wired to form strong memories around food.
While there are countless examples of sales professionals using food to connect someone with a positive memory, I choose to use the 2007 Academy Award-winning Disney film Ratatouille.
In the film, hard-to-please food critic Anton Ego, whose reviews profoundly impact the lives of restaurant owners, announces that he will review Gusteau's restaurant, whose owner and chefs, Linguini and Remy, are the story's main characters.
The chefs choose a peasant dish, ratatouille, to serve to Ego, an unusual choice to serve to a food critic evaluating your restaurant.
It is a peasant dish because it is an inexpensive meal made with stewed tomatoes, onions, garlic, zucchini, eggplant, bell pepper, and various herbs. It is affordable to even the poorest families.
This resembles receiving a peanut butter and jelly sandwich from a gourmet sandwich shop.
But upon taking his first taste of the ratatouille, Ego returns to a moment when he was a child.
His mother is serving him ratatouille to comfort him from a childhood disappointment.
The food served by Remy and Linguini reminded Ego of his childhood, specifically the love and care of his mother.
Ego's warm memories of his mother, triggered by the taste of ratatouille, influenced him to write a glowing review of Gusteau's.
Music
Brain researchers have documented the ability of music to conjure up vivid memories.
For many, music's ability to trigger intense recollections that provoke strong emotions is much stronger than other senses, such as taste or smell.
By touching many more parts of the brain, music can sometimes act like the soundtrack of our lives, which is very effective in stimulating and retrieving memories.
I think of two examples producing different effects, yet both are powerful.
The first is when I hear the song "Philadelphia Freedom" by Elton John.
Whatever you are thinking, I deserve that response.
I don't recall liking the song, okay?
But I return to a vivid and specific memory whenever I hear it.
It is the spring of my senior year of high school.
I have just finished tennis practice and am in my 1966 Chevy Malibu, likely on my way home.
I may have had a teammate in the car with me.
It is late afternoon, and I'm driving up Grand View Drive in Peoria Heights, IL, meaning the practice took place at Peoria Country Club, not at our high school tennis courts.
I must have played well because I'm feeling good, likely a little too full of myself.
Spring has sprung, and the weather is nice after the typical long, cold Midwest winter.
My windows are down, the wind is blowing in my face, and my radio is blasting out Top 40 music.
"Philadelphia Freedom" is playing at this very moment.
The following example is when I hear the church hymn "Amazing Grace."
My father was the youngest of five children, four boys and one girl.
They were from Effingham, a small farming town in southern Illinois
He lied about his age and enlisted in the Army at 17.
He served in WWII from 1942 to 1946.
He lost two of his brothers in that war.
One of them was named Frosty.
Frosty was survived by his wife and young son, Billy.
That made Billy, my cousin, over twenty-five years older than me.
Billy married Wilma, and they had two children, Denise and Phil, born after me.
I hardly knew Billy, with merely a single memory from a family reunion.
I was a little under 12 when Mom got a call from Aunt Edna bearing bad news.
Cousin Billy was on his tractor pulling a mower and mowing a field adjacent to their farm.
As the tracker navigated a drainage ditch, it flipped backward, killing Cousin Billy.
I remember having to wear nice church clothes for the trip to Effingham.
While I can remember how good the food was at the reception - farmers like to eat, and the quality of fried chicken and potato salad was only matched by the quantity of homemade bread and desserts - I do not recall the funeral service.
I do remember seeing my mother cry for the first time in my life.
It overwhelmed me.
Amazing Grace was the hymn being sung at that moment.
Every time I hear or sing that hymn to this day, my eyes tear up.
I think of my mother and how sad she was for Wilma and her two little ones.
I hope my examples helped you identify this phenomenon about yourself.
If we think hard enough, all of us can identify tastes or music that connect to a memory that elicits a strong emotion.
The examples I have provided are random in nature.
Anton Ego tasting that ratatouille was random.
Neither Linguine nor Remy knew he had grown up poor in rural France.
"Philadelphia Freedom" makes me feel good whenever I hear it, but that is a random event.
Accomplished sellers tap into emotion to influence behavior and impact change.
This isn't random.
It requires the ability to establish a deeper connection with someone.
The best I've witnessed truly enjoy people.
They are very good at human-to-human connection and love the process of establishing deeper connections with everyone they meet.
How do we go about this process?
We could turn the lens back on ourselves.
How would a professional salesperson approach this process with us?
Once I moved into a leadership role, I had the benefit of hundreds of salespeople over those years wanting to establish a connection with me.
They wanted to influence me to have a favorable impression of them.
I witnessed firsthand how the best approached this.
Let's use me as our example.
Let's start with what we know about Jeff Keplar that may be important to him.
He's married to Debbie, and they have four children, three daughters and a son.
They live in Dallas, but Jeff wasn't born there.
Jeff is from Illinois, and he moved to Texas for his first job out of college at Dr Pepper Company.
In his youth, he loved sports, playing basketball, baseball, and tennis.
He is a lifelong tennis player, playing competitively into his thirties and then teaming with his son Stuart, a Division I NCAA player in his own right, at the national level in Father/Son doubles.
He is a Dallas Cowboys fan, but not a Texas Ranger fan in favor of his boyhood St Louis Cardinals.
He is a "car guy."
He has worked in technology his entire career, with a 19-year career at Oracle in sales leadership,
He is a sales leader and loves working with salespeople.
He is a "foodie," loves to cook, especially barbeque and pasta, bake sourdough bread, and drink red wine.
We now have an ample quantity of starting points with Jeff.
We can use any of these to probe deeper, seeking to understand and connect more with him on a personal and business level.
Tell me something about Jeff that I can't find on LinkedIn or Google.
This is where we want to arrive.
Obtain an understanding of Jeff that few have by using our relationship-building skills.
In a recent engagement, I asked the client to tell me something about the key stakeholders of their prospect that I couldn't find on LinkedIn or their website's "About' page.
They had no clue why I would ask such a thing.
The good news is that they badly need my IP and highly value what I do for them.
So what's next?
Let's stay with the current process.
Allow me to point you to the unlikely area where you might make the deepest, most meaningful connection with me should you have found your way there.
Take Me Out To The Ballgame
"Take Me Out To The Ballgame" is the unofficial anthem of baseball, played traditionally during the seventh-inning stretch.
When we hear it, we think of baseball.
When I hear it and think of baseball, I also think of much more.
Summer of '71
It was my last year of Little League baseball, known as "Pony League," for 7th and 8th graders.
Our team was new to the Christian Center Summer Baseball program.
We were new to one another, having never played together before.
Most of us had played in the Peoria Little League and chose to switch to get the chance to play more games against more teams in this larger league.
Christian Center had teams from several churches from the greater Peoria area and a surprisingly large number of outstanding athletes.
In our first practice, we met our coach.
His name was Roy.
He had never coached baseball before.
Hmmm.
Roy had volunteered through his church to coach this new team.
His heart was in the right place.
We all had played organized baseball for years.
We'd be okay, we told ourselves.
Our uniforms arrived.
We were sponsored by Central Autobody and the only team in the league not named after a church or containing the word "Christian" in its name.
Early in our first game, Coach Roy took exception to the balls and strike calls the umpire was making.
We weren't sure what he saw or why he felt so strongly about it.
I recall thinking he may have been doing what he thought coaches should do.
He was making an effort on our behalf.
But suddenly, he got carried away.
We had not even made it through our batting order once when Roy exploded at the ump.
The umpire issued him a warning.
He grabbed a baseball bat as he approached the umpire and threatened to hit him with it as the umpire ejected Roy from the game.
Several parents rushed to home plate to de-escalate the situation.
We had no assistant coach, but that wouldn't have mattered.
The umpire ended the game right then and there.
We had just forfeited our first game of the season.
The fallout was swift.
Our parents were outraged by Roy's behavior.
Some of them pulled their sons off the team.
The Christian Center was not providing a very "Christian" environment.
Without a coach, we forfeited our next game as well.
0 - 2 to start the season.
Then we got Skip.
Skip was in seminary school and volunteered to be our coach.
He was young, and he knew baseball.
Skip was cool in a clean-cut kind of way.
His practices were organized.
He evaluated us at multiple positions, and we could tell he knew what he was doing.
Still, we lost our next two games.
0-4.
Joliet Jake
Another one of the differences between the Christian Center Pony League and the city's was community service.
Learning the value of doing for others is a worthwhile differentiator for 13-14-year-old boys.
Our next experience was different from your ordinary community service.
When I think of community service, I think of working in a food pantry, serving a soup kitchen, or mowing the yards of those unable to do so.
Think again.
Think prison ministry for the Central Autobody Pony League team.
Our next game was a road trip to the Joliet State Prison Grounds to play a game against a team from the Joliet Juvenile Detention Center.
We were enjoying ourselves on the 2-hour bus trip until the bus made the turn to enter the property.
It was ominous looking:
Huge concrete walls
Barbed wire surrounding the property
Multiple towers
Guards
Security checkpoints.
There was a different feel to all of this that I could not pinpoint.
Until I did.
This security wasn't there to keep us out.
It was there to keep them in.
Talk about your home-field advantage!
As we approached the field, we got our first glimpse of our opponents going through their pre-game routine - fungo, batting practice, infield, long toss, etc.
We weren't sure what to expect, but they had their own uniforms (not prison stripes.)
They were old-school gray flannel, much like the baggy uniforms you see with pictures of Babe Ruth.
These guys were crushing the ball in BP.
Heavily muscled for 14-year-olds, some of them already had face hair.
What had we signed up for?
There weren't any kids on my block in little old Rolling Acres that looked like these guys.
We were giving Mike's left arm a little rest, so Doug and I were slated to share the pitching duties for this game.
Doug was a year ahead of us in school, having one of those late birthdays that made him a "young" high school freshman.
Besides our first baseman, Joe, Doug was the tallest guy on our team.
Having witnessed the fireworks of our first game, Doug's father volunteered to be Skip's assistant coach and made the trip.
Doug and his father always seemed to be at odds, which was nothing unusual for a 14-year-old boy and his father in 1971.
Doug was our starter that day.
I recall us holding our own, but they scored in every inning as we hit the top of the fifth.
We were down by four runs when Duane sent a fastball over the left field fence with Kevin and me on second and third to bring us to within one run.
The Joliet field actually had outfield fences.
Most of the fields we played on did not.
So, hitting a homerun over an actual fence was very cool to all of us and added to our outburst as Duane rounded the bases.
Their pitcher had great stuff for a Pony Leaguer.
He looked to have three pitches: fastball, curve, and sinker.
He used them all, but he did not have the best control.
He also had a temper.
He was fuming as Duane rounded the bases.
You know what happened next if you were around for professional baseball in the sixties or have read about those "golden years" for baseball.
The first pitch to our next batter, Joe - 1b, was a fastball at his left ear.
Joe luckily saw it in time and hit the deck on his back, evading the ball and preserving his well-being.
The tactic was known as "the brushback," possibly a "beanball," and was used to put the hitter on the defensive and make him less comfortable at the plate during an at-bat.
Presumably, Duane would not have hit a home run if he was less comfortable, so their pitcher wanted to make sure that Joe was less than 100% happy to be standing in that batter's box.
I used the past tense because, in today's game, Major League Umpires will, at best, issue a warning and, at worst, eject a pitcher for throwing at a batter, even though it technically remains within the rules of baseball.
As Joe slowly got to his feet, he had three ways to play this.
But first, let's keep this in mind, as it probably entered Joe's.
To be detained at this Joliet Juvenile Detention Center, a juvenile must be:
A danger to the community or themselves
Likely to flee the jurisdiction of the Court
Need I go any further?
Joe could charge the mound, sending a statement of his own to that pitcher about being comfortable with throwing at him without fear of a response.
Joe could stare the pitcher down, attempting to accomplish the same thing from 60 feet away.
Joe could act like nothing happened and blast the next pitch right back up the middle.
Joe wisely chose #3 but could not connect on the following three pitches.
Their pitcher retired our side, and we went to the bottom of the fifth, down by one.
I paused in the dugout because I saw Doug and his father having words and thought it might have something to do with bringing me in to pitch the fifth.
I looked over at Skip, and he pointed to centerfield.
I sprinted out to my position for the bottom of the fifth inning.
It is commonly recognized that fate plays an eerily prominent role in the game of baseball.
Call it karma, call it fate, but as luck would have it, the first batter up for Joliet was their pitcher.
Doug wasted no time.
His first pitch hit him squarely in the middle of his back, right on the numbers.
Joliet Jake didn't hesitate.
He charged the mound with a smile, looking forward to the melee he was about to unleash on Doug.
It is hard to describe what I saw, heard, and happened simultaneously in what had to be less than three seconds.
Doug threw his glove to the ground and stepped toward the charging Joliet Jake with both fists up.
Why?
What was he thinking?
This guy would destroy him.
Seeing Doug's courageous move, I began running in from center field.
What was I thinking?
Where was I going?
What was I going to do when I got there?
Mike, playing left field because Doug was pitching, saw me running in and began running too.
From first base, Joe began moving toward the mound, presumably to defend Doug, who had just defended Joe by throwing what is known in baseball as a "retaliation pitch."
Skip saw what was happening and began screaming at me initially, then at Mike.
Chris, our catcher, freed of the responsibility of catching the pitch - a hit-by-pitch produces a "dead ball" by rule - had followed Joliet Jake toward the mound.
Chris would ultimately play running back for our Richwoods High School football team, and at that moment, he was a 175-pound 14-year-old with great speed.
He was quicker than Joliet Jake, caught him halfway to the mound, and tackled him from behind.
Chris' intent was not to hurt or fight Joliet Jake but to prevent him from reaching Doug.
Once that mission was accomplished, Chris remained on top of him without further aggression.
Luckily, the umpire saw that Chris' move had diffused the situation and turned to the Joliet dugout, poised to empty onto the field.
The ump pointed his finger at them and put both hands up in a stop signal, and the incident ended.
When the dust settled, I took over the pitching duties, and Doug went to my centerfield spot.
I finished the fifth and the sixth, giving up a couple of runs while their relief pitcher shut our bats down and we left Joliet 0 and 5.
But that game changed us.
We saw Doug defend Joe and not back down when faced with imminent harm.
We saw Chris leap to Doug's defense.
We saw Joe, Mike, and I all in the infield on our way to the mound to defend our teammates.
It was obvious that we were playing for something bigger than any one of us as individuals.
We became a team in Joliet.
Skip was very aware of what was happening.
We ran off six straight victories and made the playoffs on the last day of the season.
We won four straight playoff games to win the league championship.
More than 50 years later, I can still recall the final out of that championship game.
With our opponent at bat with two outs and the tying run on third, Joe positioned himself under an infield pop-up drifting into foul territory near the first base bag.
I recall Joe adjusting his position with his eyes focused on the ball but not the bag.
I was momentarily concerned about that.
Joe made the catch, ending the game, and immediately began leaping for joy with the ball still in his first baseman's mitt.
The entire team sprinted to join him in the thrill of our improbable accomplishment.
The starting line-up for Central Autobody in the 1971 Peoria Christian Center Pony League Championship Game:
1- Kevin Westervelt 2B
2- Doug Beckman LF
3- Jeff Keplar CF
4- Duane Samsel SS
5- Joe Ingle 1B
6- Walter Frakes 3B
7- Craig Arambiges RF
8- Scott Keplar C
9- Mike Mahoney P
** We lost Chris Nelson in a playoff game as he attempted to score. On the play at the plate, their catcher chose to block the plate, forcing Chris to collide with him to cross (this is no longer legal in Major League Baseball.)
The proper technique for a catcher for all plays at the plate is to remove your mask, flinging it from the area, allowing him to see better. On this play, the catcher left his mask on and when Chris executed his shoulder block into the catcher's body at the moment of impact, the mask caught Chris right in the mouth, causing Chris to lose six permanent teeth and knocking him out of the playoffs.
The Impact on Me
Baseball - I have fond memories of playing the game in my youth.
Team: There is nothing like the feeling of being part of a team.
No Limits: There is no limit to what you can accomplish when you feel a part of something bigger than you.
Overcoming Adversity: Once you experience it, it never leaves you, and you find it easier to believe in the impossible.
Winning: The idea that winning is a habit is true for me, and I credit my experience as a 14-year-old for anchoring me with this belief. Winning that championship trumps all of my individual tennis accomplishments combined.
Commonality - I became receptive to influence by those I saw with the same traits and beliefs I learned through my Pony League baseball experience.
Lessons Learned
1) Be Interested. Have a healthy interest in making a deeper connection with your prospects.
2) Food and music are excellent areas to explore, as they conjure vivid memories and strong emotions.
3) Accomplished sellers tap into emotion to influence behavior and impact change.
4) Learn something you can't find on their LinkedIn profile.
5) There is no better feeling than being a part of something bigger than you.
Thank you for reading.
Jeff
When you think “sales leader,” I hope you think of me.
If you like what you read, please share this with a friend.
I offer my help to sales leaders and their teams.
I possess the skills identified in this article and share them as part of my service.
In my weekly newsletter, Win More, Make More, I provide tips, techniques, best practices, and real-life stories to help you improve your craft.
