"Listen, your credit is crap. If you don't want the deal, move on."
I said that to a borrower once. Word for word. The part that bothers me now isn't just what I said. It's that I didn't think about him again. He walked out, and I went right back to work.
Early in my career, I worked for a guy whose philosophy was pretty simple: You're only as good as your last month. Plenty of fish in the sea. If someone didn't want the deal, NEXT. He used to tell me, "I want 100 deals a month out of your office, Enbody. I don't care if that's 10 MLOs or 100 MLOs. I want 100 deals."
I understand production. I've been in sales for more than 25 years. Numbers matter. But in that shop, people were a means to a number, and I picked up the habit. I became a real prick without even realizing it.
That borrower had a bankruptcy and some slow pays. He wanted a better rate and kept asking why I couldn't give him one. I can look back now and see a guy who was frustrated with his situation. At the time, all I saw was a conversation I wanted to end. I told myself I was being honest. There's a difference between honesty and being a jerk, though, and I managed to cross it in one sentence.
My boss didn't make me say it. That was all me.
The worst part? I was good at my job. I could save deals, calm angry borrowers, even turn a rough conversation into a referral. I don't remember the numbers ever suffering because of my attitude. And a man doesn't question a mindset his paycheck keeps rewarding.
About a month later, a few of us went to see Zig Ziglar at Van Andel Arena in Grand Rapids. The place was packed. Zig said something many of you have probably heard:
"You can have everything in life you want, if you will just help enough other people get what they want."
I remember walking out thinking, Who am I to believe I know more about sales than that guy? It sounds obvious now. Back then it wasn't. I was pretty good at getting people to buy. I hadn't spent nearly as much time figuring out whether buying was the right thing for them.
A few of us talked afterward about building a different kind of business. We were tired of the boiler-room mentality. We wanted something that lasted longer than the next month's report. I didn't leave that arena and suddenly become a saint. Not even close. I still had habits to break. But I started trying to listen before I talked and help even when there was nothing in it for me.
If someone had a better mortgage rate than I could offer, I told them to keep it. If a competitor had made them a good offer, I said so. I talked people out of refinances when refinancing didn't make sense for their families. The younger me would've called that leaving money on the table. He probably would've had a few choice words for me, too.
Over time, I learned those conversations weren't wasted. Not everybody became a customer. That wasn't the point. People remembered when you gave them an honest answer instead of a sales pitch.
Years later, I was spending time on LinkedIn helping newer loan officers. Nothing formal. Somebody had a question about building referral relationships or growing a business, and we'd talk it through. More than once, I heard, "Why didn't my company teach me that?" Or, "Tim, do you offer coaching?"
I didn't. But if I had a nickel for every time somebody asked, well, you know the rest.
Here's what makes me laugh: I'd wanted to start a podcast for seven years. Seven years of telling myself I'd get around to it.
Meanwhile, I was encouraging other people to stop waiting and go do the thing. Apparently, my advice worked better on them than it did on me.
Those loan officers deserve some credit. They trusted me with their questions and gave me their time. In return, without knowing it, they pushed me toward something I'd been putting off. I finally started Elevate With Enbody, in part because people I was trying to help kept encouraging me to do more.
I wasn't looking for anything in return when those conversations started. Funny how helping people can work both ways. The opportunity that brought me to Northern Mortgage came through a relationship, too. I didn't chase it. That door opened because of people I'd gotten to know over the years.
Today, when I work with loan officers and branch managers, I think about that old demand for 100 deals. There's nothing wrong with wanting 100 deals. There is something wrong with building a culture where the people behind those deals don't matter.
I'm still a salesman. I'll ask for the business. But I'm far more interested in whether somebody will trust me when there isn't any business to ask for.
Relationships are the principal. Transactions are just the interest.
So here's a challenge. Call someone you haven't talked to in a while. No pitch, no referral ask. Just see how they're doing. And the next time a borrower has a lousy credit report, a tough situation, or more questions than you have patience for, remember that they came to you for help.
I don't know what happened to the man I spoke to that day. I can't tell you how many deals that old attitude cost me. A "plenty of fish" guy never counts what swims away. What I do know is I had a chance to help somebody who needed it, and I blew it.
I've had plenty of success in sales since then. But that's one conversation I'd sure like to have back.
