Читать книгу Find. Build. Sell. - Stephen J. Hunt - Страница 11

I have to be honest. I didn't set out to become a publican. Growing up in a middle-class suburban home with two rugby-loving brothers (and two equally sporty sisters), I was a sports-mad jock with a grand goal to play rugby for Australia. I did make several representative rugby union and league teams, represented my school in 11 different sports and was captain of the swimming team. Unfortunately, however, my talent did not quite match my ambitions. As a result, I had to find another career. But as a 17 year old, fresh out of school, I had no idea what I wanted to do. I was too busy mucking around with my mates, playing footy, drinking beer and having fun. Which is kind of how my business began. As they say, from little things big things grow. My pub empire started as a very small operation: it started in my backyard.

When I was 17 years old, my dad bought a massive BBQ and installed it down the back of the yard. It was a concrete monstrosity with a built-in chimney, removeable grills, cast-iron hotplates and more. He decked out the area with second-hand armchairs, eskies, a tarpaulin tent to keep out the rain, a tape deck and speakers so we could listen to music, and a string of party lights dripping off the trees so we didn't trip over in the dark.

He must have wanted us out of the house. It worked.

I spent most of my weekends down there, hanging out with my high-school buddies. I'd invite them all over after the footy, we'd get a few girls from school to come along and before you knew it, every teenager in the street would be popping over to see what the noise was all about. Everyone was welcome — even the teachers. It wasn't unusual on some weekends to have 100+ people down the back of the yard, partying away, with me at the helm. My parties got so popular, I rallied my mates to help me manage the logistics. One took care of the food, the other bought the grog, another manned the gate to deter any undesirables from dropping in. We were a well-oiled team.

One night we ran short of beers so my mate said, ‘Just charge them $2 for the beer you've got left in the esky' — so I did. I took that money, went down to the pub, bought more beers, came back, sold those and made $100! I was stoked. Not only had I made a few bucks, I had enabled the party to carry on late into the night. I looked around at the faces of my friends laughing, joking, dancing, drinking: I could see the joy they were experiencing, feel the happiness they were exuding, and it was exhilarating. I had brought together this disparate group of people from many walks of life, and they were all having a great time because of me. I was having a ball too, but what I really enjoyed was watching other people have a good time. In that moment, my mate Paul turned to me and he said, ‘Steve, I reckon you should do this for a living'.

‘So do I, mate. So do I.'

And now I do.

This is my story.