He was dealing with a health issue and wanted to know what to do. As he talked, it became clear this wasn’t something to sit on. It probably warranted an ER visit. He was stable, but it needed attention. So I did what I’ve learned to do over the years: I listened, slowed things down, and started building a plan.

My first call was to a medical school classmate and close friend, Matthew Grossman, MD. Matt is one of the premier gastroenterologists in the country—frankly, in the world. I told him what was going on. He didn’t hesitate. Within 48 hours, my father was under his care. The problem was diagnosed. Treated. Managed.

A couple of years ago, my daughter Ruby crashed during a ski race and shattered her shoulder. The injury required a complex surgical repair. I reached out to someone I trusted implicitly: another medical school classmate, Jonathan Bravman, MD, one of the finest orthopedic surgeons anywhere. He evaluated Ruby and, within weeks, performed the surgery that put her back together.

Just a few days ago, a childhood friend called me. His father had fallen and suffered bleeding around his brain. He was driving hundreds of miles to the hospital and needed help—not medical heroics, just clarity. Perspective. Reassurance. Someone to talk to while the fear set in.

Three moments. Three different people. Three different crises.

Same theme.

I’ve been thinking about these interactions a lot. They reminded me, again, how much of life comes down to relationships. When things go sideways—and health almost always finds a way to put us there—what matters most is who you can call.

Having friends who show up for you.

Being able to show up for someone else.

That’s the real currency.

For the past three years, I’ve been connected to this Three Book Thursday community. Nearly every morning, I’d wake up, transfer book notes into Evernote, and ask myself a simple question: What story might be worth sharing today?

The introduction to the very first post, published on December 15, 2022, read:

Three Book Thursday is an experiment. It’s for individuals who are lifelong learners—those seeking a rich life. The idea is simple. Each Thursday, I will share three books that changed my life.

Today marks the 100th post.

It also marks the turning of the year.

And it marks the final Three Book Thursday.

This experiment is complete—for me.

These 100 posts helped me grow. They clarified what matters. They pushed me to reflect. They brought me closer to friends and family. They reminded me that vulnerability leads to intimacy, and intimacy leads to fulfillment.

Three Book Thursday reconnected me with people I hadn’t spoken to in years—and brought people I’d never met into my life as colleagues, collaborators, and friends.

For that, I’m deeply grateful.

Thank you for showing up.

Thank you for reading.

Thank you for engaging.

Thank you for being part of this.

My hope now is simple: to take the lessons learned and live them—to make sure my actions reflect my values. I wish the same for you.

Here is the link to every Three Book Thursday ever published.

People often ask me which books had the greatest impact on my life.

That’s a hard question. Books compound. One book unlocks the next. Growth doesn’t happen in isolation, it stacks.

Still, for this final edition, I want to share three books that most directly changed the trajectory of my life, not because of how profound they were on the page, but because of the actions and relationships they led to.

You will not take the same lessons from these books that I did. I’m certain of that. And that’s the point.

The Autobiography of Malcolm X

The first book I ever read cover to cover.

This book ignited my learning journey. It taught me that transformation is possible. That fairness and equality are not guaranteed. That disciplined effort matters. And most importantly, that belief in yourself can change your circumstances.

It also introduced me—intellectually and emotionally—to the Civil Rights Movement. That knowledge fueled a conversation I had in 1998 with a graduate student at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. That conversation became a 27‑year relationship and a 20‑year marriage.

No other book could possibly compete with that.

How to Get Rich

A book I’ve never shared publicly.

I read it the year after finishing residency. Please don’t let the title mislead you. Much of the book actively discourages the pursuit of money for its own sake. What it did teach me was something far more important:

There is nothing on the other side of fear.

For much of my life, fear quietly dictated my choices. This book helped me see fear for what it is: a construct. Not imaginary—but not real either. Risk is real. Consequences are real. But fear, unchecked, is optional.

This book gave me permission to start.

The Advantage

This book changed everything.

It taught me about vulnerability, values, and culture. It was a railroad switch—one that sent my life onto entirely new tracks. It reshaped how I show up with colleagues, friends, and family. Its message became embedded in how I lead, how I listen, and how I live.

If I’ve ever carried a compass, this was it.

So here we are.

If you’ve ever noticed the quote at the top of every Three Book Thursday, it wasn’t accidental. It was chosen with purpose. Louis L’Amour wrote:

“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.”

I’ve always loved that line—because it reminds us that endings aren’t really endings. They’re transitions. New chapters disguised as closings.

As this chapter of 3BT comes to an end, I want to leave you with the three lessons that have mattered most to me:

Believe in yourself.

Keep learning. Keep growing. As Ted Lasso said, be curious, not judgmental.

And above all—love generously.

Always ❤️📚💡

P.S. Something to do today

So on October 2, I published a reflection about my cholesterol, specifically my LDL, and an experiment I wanted to run on myself. Not a biohack. Not a 30-day challenge. Not a reinvention.

Just… an honest attempt.

A simple question: What would happen if I stopped overthinking health and actually lived it?

The results are in.

But before I get to them, I want to shine a light on something I’ve been thinking about deeply—something that sits underneath every change we try to make in our lives.

Most of the time, the biggest thing standing in our way… is us.

We complicate what was never meant to be complicated. We chase the trend, the gadget, the new supplement promising to rescue us from ourselves. We forget that long before fitness trackers and optimized routines, we were already given everything we need to be well. A body. A mind. A clearer vision of what we want for ourselves than we’re usually willing to admit.

When I started this experiment, I made a deliberate choice: Keep it simple.

Not perfect. Not extreme. Just simple.

I ate less.

I moved more.

And that’s about as detailed as it gets.

And here’s the truth—I didn’t give up the things I love. I didn’t exile joy from my life. I didn’t run from the things that make life delicious.

I love Häagen-Dazs Vanilla Swiss Almond ice cream. I mean love it. Enough to have once eaten a pint a day—something veteran readers may remember from a previous confession.

And I didn’t stop eating it now. I just ate less of it. A few scoops instead of one or two pints a week. Pragmatic, not punitive.

The same held true for movement. I wasn’t training for the NYC Marathon or trying to become an Olympic version of myself. I was simply being active—raising my heart rate, getting outdoors, letting my nervous system breathe.

But because this experiment had a clear goal—reducing LDL—I made two targeted changes:

• I cut back on saturated fat. Fewer burgers and steaks, more chicken and fish. Not none. Just less.

• I added more fiber through fruits, vegetables, and a morning fiber supplement.

I also started eating a small handful of almonds before meals because plant sterols can help lower LDL. A tiny change, over and over again. And when it came to resistance training—something I’ve been doing since I was 17—I didn’t reinvent the wheel. Two to three sessions a week. Forty-five minutes. Nothing heroic.

And I cut down on alcohol. Not entirely—just less.

What happened next surprised even me.

LDL dropped 14.3% (now in desired range)

Total cholesterol dropped by 11.2% (now in desired range)

Non-HDL down 13.5% (now in desired range)

LDL small particles dropped 61% (now in desired range)

LDL medium particles dropped by 50% (now in desired range)

HDL held stable and in the desired range

LDL/HDL ratio dropped by 16% (in low-risk range)

Triglycerides held stable and in the desired range

Apolipoprotein B (ApoB) dropped by 12% (nearing desired range)

Apolipoprotein A1 (ApoA1) in the desired range

ApoB/ApoA1 ratio in the desired range

Markers of inflammation—hs-CRP, fibrinogen, homocysteine—all in desired range

Vitamin D up 110% (I took a 5,000 IU supplement)

Omega fatty acids up 14% (now in desired range)

Total and free testosterone: Stable and in the desired range

These are not small shifts. They’re meaningful, measurable changes—inside of 90 days—driven by choices that required almost no complexity, no special equipment, and no heroic discipline.

Here’s the most important part of this entire experiment for me.

I could’ve taken a pill.

I’m 99.99% certain that if I started a cholesterol-lowering medication, my LDL would’ve plummeted. Quickly. Cleanly. Problem solved.

Or… is it?

I don’t believe the problem would be solved at all. In fact, I think the real problem would remain untouched.

We get blinded by the number. We obsess over the lab value. But the number is not the problem—it’s the consequence. It’s the echo of hundreds of small, accumulated behaviors. And if I take a pill, those behaviors—the true root—don’t change. They don’t improve. They don’t evolve. They simply get covered up.

Which brings me to a hypothesis I’ve been thinking a lot about:

We’re far better off living with a slightly elevated LDL and healthy behaviors than with a medically lowered LDL wrapped around an unhealthy lifestyle.

Disclaimer time: To be clear, none of this is medical advice. This is my personal framework, based on my own life and my own experiment. For medical questions or concerns, please contact your doctor. There are absolutely lab values, like blood glucose in diabetes or dangerously elevated blood pressure, and many others that need immediate intervention because the long-term consequences are real and irreversible.

A pill can change a number.

Behavior can change a life.

And this is where I think we often get trapped. The shortcut—while helpful in some cases—can also prevent us from facing the reality staring back at us (like it was for me). When we medicate the number, we quiet the signal. We silence the messenger. We bypass the uncomfortable but necessary work of the behavioral change itself.

But the behavioral change is the true intervention.

It’s the root.

It’s the leverage.

It’s the part that affects not just LDL, but everything else that makes us who we are—our energy, mood, cognition, resilience, longevity, relationships, confidence.

This is the paradigm I want to shine a light on.

Because lowering a number with a pill may bring relief…

But raising the standard of how we live brings transformation.

And here’s the part that also matters:

I still enjoyed my life.

I didn’t white-knuckle my way through these months. I didn’t punish myself. I didn’t abandon the simple pleasures that make a day feel like a day.

I just became deliberate.

And that’s a takeaway.

Not the numbers. Not the science. Not the macros or the supplements.

But the reminder that small, intentional choices—repeated consistently—are often enough to reshape our lives . We don’t need to uproot everything. We just need to shift a few things with meaning.

Of course, your path will look different. Everyone’s body is its own universe, with its own rules, and its own genetics. This was my N=1 experiment. But I hope, somewhere in these 90 days, there’s something useful for you.

And I want to say thank you. Truly.

One of the reasons I stuck to this plan is because I told you I would. Accountability—quiet, steady, communal—matters more than we realize. A big part of my consistency came from knowing I had committed to sharing these results with you.

As an epilogue, I should confess: the week after my labs were drawn was Thanksgiving. I ate enormous amounts of food and drank liters of wine. Truly heroic quantities. But when the holiday ended, I slid right back into my rhythm—and it reminded me of something Michael Pollan wrote nearly two decades ago:

Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.

And my corollary: Move your body. Go for walks. Lift something heavy a few times a week.

Oh, and love generously. Relationships are the real nourishment in this life.

Welcome to this week’s Three Book Thursday.

1. Nutrition
In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto

Summary
Michael Pollan’s In Defense of Food is a reminder that we’ve made one of the most human acts—eating—far too complicated. In a culture obsessed with nutrients, labels, and the next magic health fix, Pollan brings us back to something beautifully simple: real food has always been enough. And when we choose it—when we slow down long enough to taste, to share, to be present—we don’t just eat better. We live better.

Pollan’s message isn’t about restriction or perfection. It’s about reclaiming clarity. His seven-word prescription—Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.—isn’t a diet; it’s a philosophy of intention. It challenges us to question the systems shaping our habits and to return to fundamentals that actually work. This book is a call to simplify—to build a foundation of health, energy, and presence that supports everything else we’re trying to do.

• Quote: “The more we worry about nutrition, the less healthy we seem to become.”

• Principle: You don’t need to track every nutrient—you need to trust in the wisdom of foods that have nourished humans for generations.

• Insight: To reclaim control of eating is to reclaim control of living.

Author: Michael Pollan
Themes: Nutrition

Michael Pollan’s book is new to 3BT, but it sits comfortably alongside several others that speak to today’s theme. If you’re looking to go deeper, here are a few that have shaped my own thinking:

Genius Foods: Become Smarter, Happier, and More Productive While Protecting Your Brain for Life

Ikigai

Atomic Habits: An Easy & Proven Way to Build Good Habits & Break Bad Ones

Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals

Younger Next Year: A Guide to Living Like 50 Until You’re 80 and Beyond

Outlive: The Science and Art of Longevity (great insights, avoid the complexity)

Digital Minimalism: Choosing a Focused Life in a Noisy World

Please let me know what resonated with you in today’s 3BT (if anything). None of us have this figured out - not fully, not permanently - and I’m always happy to share more of my own experiments, insights, and missteps if they add value to your journey.

Always ❤️📚💡

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

Here are three things that brought me joy, added value to my life, made me laugh, made me cry, solved a problem, or just made life a little more interesting. Basically, cool stuff worth passing along.

Delight– Not Fried Chicken Ice Cream

Last week I told you about Graeter’s. This week… we’re entering dessert theater. The same Goldsteins who introduced us to Graeter’s sent us something so unexpected I had to check the label twice: Not Fried Chicken Ice Cream.

You open the box and you’re staring at what looks exactly like a fried chicken drumstick. The shape, the texture, the “crust.” It’s indistinguishable. Then you take a bite and realize you’ve been duped in the best possible way: vanilla ice cream on the inside, crunchy chocolate-cookie coating on the outside.

It’s clever. It’s ridiculous. It’s delicious.

But here’s what I love most: it delivers surprise—the good kind. The kind adults rarely get. The kind that makes you laugh at the sheer creativity of it all. Dessert as a practical joke, but elevated.

It reminded me how fun it is to be caught off guard… in a way that tastes incredible.

So yes, send a box to someone you care about. But absolutely send one to yourself. Life needs more moments like this—where you open the freezer and think, Oh right… the ice cream chicken.

Card Game – TALES: 150 Conversation Cards (Family Edition)

Last night, we had family over and pulled out a card set called Tales. Inside are 150 questions - stories from childhood, family traditions, regrets, triumphs, the tiny moments that make up a life.

Here’s what struck me: even the people you think you know best will surprise you.

My kids. My sister. My father. Their answers revealed memories I’d forgotten or never knew in the first place. Some responses made me laugh out loud; others stopped me in my tracks. What the cards really did was give us permission to slow down, listen, and reconnect in a way life rarely creates space for.

This is the heart of Thanksgiving—hearing the stories that shaped the people sitting around your table. And it reminded me how easy it is to miss those stories in the rush of daily life.

For the cost of a takeout meal, Tales gave us an evening of presence, curiosity, and connection. In a noisy world, that’s priceless.

Show – Seinfeld - Serenity Now, Serenity Now

My son and I have spent the past month making our way through the old Seinfeld episodes. We knew it was a classic, but we didn’t expect it to be this good. The timing, the writing, the absurdity — it all hits just as hard today as it did decades ago. Every night while I’m making dinner, I put on an episode. It’s become our built-in reset: thirty minutes where the only thing that matters is George overreacting to something wildly insignificant.

And for Thanksgiving week, there’s only one episode that fits perfectly: “Serenity Now.”

Frank Costanza shouting “SERENITY NOW!” at the top of his lungs feels like a public service announcement for anyone cooking, hosting, wrangling family, or simply existing during the holidays. The episode is pure chaos — but the good kind. The relatable kind. The kind that reminds you that everyone, everywhere, is trying to stay calm while life tests their patience.

That’s the brilliance of Seinfeld: it doesn’t just make you laugh, it makes you feel lighter. It gives you permission to drop the seriousness for a moment and enjoy the ridiculousness of it all.

If you need a break from the holiday buzz, put on “Serenity Now.” It’s 22 minutes of comic relief that works every single time.

Here’s to another week of small joys and simple discoveries. Happy Thanksgiving — and thank you for spending a few minutes with me each week. I’m grateful you’re here.

Always ❤️📚💡

P.S. Lab work is back. Will share results and insights in upcoming 3BT.

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

Here are three things that brought me joy, added value to my life, made me laugh, made me cry, solved a problem, or just made life a little more interesting. Basically, cool stuff worth passing along.

Show – Constellation [Prime] [AppleTV]

Constellation blew my mind in the best way. It’s one of those shows where you start off thinking, Wait… what exactly is happening? And then, episode by episode, the pieces start to click, and suddenly you’re all in.

It’s sci-fi, but not with the usual noise and spectacle. It’s quieter, more intimate, strangely hypnotic. And once you find your footing, it becomes absolutely gripping. The story twists in ways that made me pause the screen just to process what I’d seen. The characters feel both familiar and just slightly… off. In the eerie, intriguing way that stays with you.

A year after watching it, I still think about certain scenes. Certain choices. The way the show plays with reality and identity. It’s the kind of series that sneaks into your thoughts long after it ends.

If you’re in the mood for something smart, unsettling, and genuinely original - something that will make you think, rewind, and maybe question your own reality just a little - Constellation is absolutely worth the ride.

Podcast – Heavyweight

If you want a podcast that hits you straight in the heart, Heavyweight is it. The human element in this show is extraordinary. Each episode follows someone trying to untangle a moment from their past - a regret, a fractured relationship, a conversation they never had the courage to finish. And while not every story lands neatly, every single one lands deeply.

What makes Heavyweight so powerful is how real it feels. The stories are raw, imperfect, and unbelievably human. Jonathan Goldstein brings a blend of humor, warmth, and gentle curiosity that disarms people in a way few storytellers can. You find yourself smiling in awe at how honest and vulnerable people can be when someone truly listens.

Some episodes will make you laugh. Some might make you tear up. All of them will make you feel a little more connected to the strange, beautiful mess of being human. If you want a podcast that stays with you long after the final minute, Heavyweight is absolutely worth your time.

A Little Joy – Graeter’s Ice Cream

This one deserves a huge shout-out to my friends Jon and Robin Goldstein (a different Jon Goldstein from the Heavyweight podcast), who surprised us one day with a box of Graeter’s ice cream shipped straight to our front door. That was the magic of it. Ice cream delivery. Not a card, not a gift basket — a frozen box of happiness sitting on our doorstep. I still remember opening it and thinking, This is incredible.

Graeter’s has mastered this process. The packaging is perfect, the ice cream arrives rock-solid, and the flavors… they’re on another level. Rich, creamy, small-batch, and seasonal - made with this old-world French Pot method that gives it a texture unlike anything you can find in a grocery store.

And that one act of generosity sparked a chain reaction. Every few months, I send a 6-pack or 12-pack to a friend, no holiday or birthday required. Just to create that same moment - opening the door, seeing a mysterious frozen box, smiling before you even know what’s inside.

In fact… someone reading this is getting a box of Graeter’s delivered to their doorstep today. Enjoy.

There are very few things in life as universally joyful as surprise ice cream delivered to your doorstep. And Graeter’s has turned that simple idea into something unforgettable.

Here’s to another week of small joys and simple discoveries.

Always ❤️📚💡

PS: Today I’m getting my blood drawn to check in on my cholesterol and LDL levels. I’ll share the results, and the progress of my whole experiment, in the coming weeks. Stay tuned.

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

This is a story of three men whose lives became interlinked–unexpectedly, unintentionally, and unavoidably.

None of them planned it.

None of them saw it coming.

And yet, one would not have become who he was without the other.

Let me take you back to May 2, 1939, in Detroit.

Wally Pipp–a former New York Yankee, now a sports columnist for the Detroit Times–sat alone in the bleachers at Briggs Stadium. He was there to work. To watch the Yankees play the Tigers. To take notes. Just another game in a long baseball season.

But before the first pitch, he saw something he knew was not ordinary.

Lou Gehrig walked up to his manager, Joe McCarthy, said a few quiet words, and handed over his glove. No ceremony. No announcement. No explanation. Just a small gesture that told the entire truth: he couldn’t go today.

Gehrig, the Iron Horse, was taking himself out of the lineup.

For the first time in 2,130 games.

And then a young first baseman jogged onto the field to replace him.

Babe Dahlgren.

As the crowd murmured, Pipp felt something stir inside him. A recognition. A memory of a moment he lived himself fourteen years earlier.

See, from 1915 to 1925, Wally Pipp had been the Yankees’ anchor at first base. Ten straight seasons. Twice the league’s home run champion. Three World Series appearances. A player teammates trusted and fans knew by name.

And on June 2, 1925, he walked into Yankee Stadium expecting to play, just as he had for a decade. Same routine. Same position. Same life.

Except that morning, he had a pounding headache he couldn’t ignore.

So he did something small. Something that felt harmless.

He told his manager, Miller Huggins, “Bench me today.”

Huggins nodded, looked down the bench, and said to a young, unproven player who had appeared in fewer than 25 major-league games:

“Gehrig - take first today.”

Pipp didn’t know it then, but he had just played his final game as the Yankees’ starting first baseman. And Gehrig–quiet, humble, unassuming–never left the lineup again… until this precise moment in 1939, the moment Pipp was now watching unfold before his eyes in Detroit.

From his seat in the stands, Pipp watched Dahlgren take the same position he once held, after the same quiet exchange that had changed his own career. He watched Gehrig sit on the bench–hands folded, eyes forward–just as he had.

And he understood something simple and honest:

This is how it goes.

One day you step in.

One day you carry the responsibility.

And one day you step aside.

All three men were living different parts of the same story:

Pipp - letting go.

Gehrig - enduring.

Dahlgren - beginning.

The field didn’t change.

The game didn’t change.

Only the names did.

Pipp stayed in his seat until the last out. He watched the grounds crew rake the dirt around first base, smoothing the footprints–Gehrig’s and Dahlgren’s–erasing them to prepare for tomorrow.

He stood, took one last look at the field, and walked out of the stadium.

Not defeated. Not nostalgic.

Just clear-eyed about how this all works.

Everyone gets their innings.

Some long. Some short.

But none of them last forever.

Welcome to this week’s Three Book Thursday.

1. Personal development
How to Stop Worrying and Start Living: Time-Tested Methods for Conquering Worry

Summary
Dale Carnegie’s How to Stop Worrying and Start Living offers a simple but powerful idea: worry doesn’t protect us—it drains us. It pulls us out of the present, fills our minds with imagined disasters, and convinces us that spiraling thoughts somehow count as preparation.

Carnegie cuts through that noise with clear, practical principles. Live in “day-tight compartments.” Focus on the small slice of time you can actually influence. Accept what you can’t change so you can finally work on what you can. Ask what the worst outcome might be, make peace with it, and then start improving it.

His stories remind us that worry rarely changes outcomes—but it always changes us. It shrinks our days, narrows our perspective, and steals the energy we need to live fully.

This isn’t a book about eliminating uncertainty. It’s a guide for staying steady inside it. A blueprint for returning to center when your mind is running ahead or replaying the past. A reminder that clarity lives in action, not rumination.

At its core, How to Stop Worrying and Start Living is about reclaiming the moments we lose to fear. It’s about presence, calm, and the discipline of meeting each day as it comes.

Not to avoid worry entirely—but to stop letting it write the story.

• Quote: “Remember, today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday.”

• Principle: Cooperate with the inevitable.

• Insight: One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living.

Author: Dale Carnegie
Themes: Personal development
My personal notes from the book

2. Biography
Tiger Woods

Summary
Jeff Benedict’s Tiger Woods isn’t just the story of a prodigy—it’s the story of what happens when a life is engineered for greatness before a child even understands what greatness is. Tiger was built through repetition, precision, and an almost unthinkable level of parental pressure and structure. His rise wasn’t luck; it was deliberate, disciplined, and often isolating. Benedict shows how mastery can become both a superpower and a burden—fueling historic dominance while quietly narrowing a life until performance becomes identity.

And when that identity cracked, the fall was catastrophic. Tiger’s collapse wasn’t a celebrity scandal—it was the unraveling of someone who had never been taught how to be human. Someone designed to win but not to fail. Someone who could handle pressure but not pain. And yet, that breakdown created space for transformation. The comeback—culminating in the 2019 Masters—wasn’t about golf. It was about reconstruction: confronting pain honestly, rebuilding relationships, relearning vulnerability, and rediscovering a version of himself that wasn’t tethered solely to results.

In the end, Tiger Woods becomes a story about ambition, consequences, and renewal. It’s a reminder that success built on perfection is fragile, but success built on growth endures. And it challenges us to look at our own pursuits—where discipline serves us, where it confines us, and what it means to rise again after everything has fallen apart.

• Quote: “The first thing I taught Tiger, aside from the love of the golf game, was the love of practice.”

• Principle: From childhood, perfection wasn’t the goal — it was the requirement.

• Insight: Redemption began the moment he admitted he needed rebuilding.

Author: Jeff Benedict
Themes: Biography, Sports
My personal notes from the book

3. Memoir
Singular Intimacies: Becoming a Doctor at Bellevue

Summary
Danielle Ofri’s Singular Intimacies captures the reality of medicine in a way few books ever do. Bellevue isn’t just a hospital—it’s a world unto itself, a place where intensity, chaos, and humanity collide every hour of every day. As someone who completed residency at Bellevue, I feel a kinship with anyone who has walked those halls. It was the most formative time of my life—surrounded by brilliant colleagues, unforgettable patients, and the kind of life-and-death moments that shape who you become forever. So whenever a book is set at Bellevue, I devour it. And Ofri delivers insights that feel personal, familiar, and deeply true.

What makes this book powerful is how it strips medicine down to its core: connection. Not the cleaned-up version most people imagine, but the raw, unfiltered intimacy of being allowed into someone’s life at their most vulnerable. Ofri shows how the smallest interactions—a moment of stillness, a quiet admission, a shared breath in a crisis—can leave a lasting imprint on a young physician. These stories remind us that becoming a doctor isn’t a series of milestones; it’s a series of relationships. Every patient leaves a mark, whether we realize it at the time or not.

But Singular Intimacies goes beyond medicine. It’s about being present. About noticing. About slowing down long enough to actually hear the stories unfolding in front of you. It’s a reminder that growth doesn’t come from the big achievements—it comes from being willing to sit in uncertainty, to care deeply, to let experiences change you. Whether you’re in medicine, business, leadership, or simply trying to live with more intention, this book pulls you back to what matters: the human moments. The connection. The honesty. The small encounters that quietly shape the person you become.

At its heart, Ofri’s book reminds us that the real work of any meaningful life isn’t about perfection—it’s about presence. It’s about letting people in. And it’s about allowing the moments that move us—especially the difficult ones—to become the experiences that define us.

• Quote: “Medicine is a front-row seat to the full range of human experience.”

• Principle: Vulnerability is what allows a doctor to truly connect.

• Insight: Every patient carries a story far deeper than the diagnosis.

Author: Danielle Ofri
Themes: Memoir, Patient care, Residency training
My personal notes from the book

If there’s a thread running through Wally Pipp, Lou Gehrig, Babe Dahlgren, Dale Carnegie, Tiger Woods, and Danielle Ofri, it’s this: our lives are shaped not by the moments we plan, but by the ones that force us to change.

Pipp didn’t intend to step aside.

Gehrig didn’t expect his endurance to end.

Dahlgren didn’t ask to inherit a legend’s shadow.

And yet each man learned the same quiet truth: every season of life asks something different of us. Sometimes we’re rising. Sometimes we’re carrying the weight. Sometimes we’re letting go. But in every season, we’re being shaped.

Carnegie shows us that worry steals those seasons before we ever live them.

Tiger’s story reveals how ambition without presence breaks us, and how rebuilding begins the moment we stop pretending we’re invincible.

Bellevue teaches that the most meaningful growth happens in the small, unplanned moments—when we slow down long enough to notice the people right in front of us.

So the question isn’t which season you’re in.

The real question is: Are you actually living it?

Are you present for the innings you’ve been given?

Are you willing to evolve when life hands you a moment you didn’t ask for?

Are you paying attention to the quiet exchanges—the ones that seem small but turn out to be everything?

Because one day you’re Pipp.

One day you’re Gehrig.

One day you’re Dahlgren.

And your life—your real life—is happening in the space between those roles.

If there’s something to take from this week’s books, it’s this:

Show up fully wherever you are. Let each season shape you. And when the moment comes to step in, step up, or step aside—do it with presence, humility, and courage.

Your innings won’t last forever.

But what you do with them will.

Always ❤️📚💡

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

Here are three things that brought me joy, added value to my life, made me laugh, made me cry, solved a problem, or just made life a little more interesting. Basically–cool stuff worth passing along.

Show – Dark Matter [Apple link]

I didn’t expect to love Dark Matter as much as I did. It’s one of those rare shows that hooks you in the first ten minutes and doesn’t let go. Yes, it’s technically science fiction, but you don’t need to like sci-fi to get pulled in – this is more about life’s big questions than alternate universes. It’s about choice, identity, and the countless versions of ourselves that might exist had we turned left instead of right.

The story revolves around a physicist who discovers a way to step into parallel versions of his own life – each one shaped by a single different decision. It’s suspenseful and emotional, but also haunting in the best way. You start thinking about your own life – the doors you’ve closed, the chances you didn’t take, the people who changed your direction without you even realizing it.

What makes Dark Matter so good is that it makes you feel something deeper than just entertainment. It reminds you how thin the line is between the life you have and the life you could’ve had. It’s smart, unsettling, and completely absorbing – the kind of show you’ll want to talk about long after it ends.

Gadget – 6-in-1 Digital Water Tester

Shout out to Shiv Gaglani for this one. This isn’t your average water gadget–it’s a pocket-sized science lab (for only $60). The 6-in-1 Digital Water Tester measures total organic carbon (TOC), chemical oxygen demand (COD), electrical conductivity (EC), ultraviolet absorbance (UV275), temperature, and total dissolved solids (TDS). In plain terms, it gives you a detailed snapshot of your water’s chemical and physical makeup–how pure, mineral-rich, or potentially contaminated it might be.

I tested it across every water source in our house: kitchen faucet, pot filler, RO system, bathroom sinks, even the shower. Each reading told a different story. The EC and TDS show how mineral-heavy the water is. TOC, COD, and UV275 reveal the invisible stuff–organic compounds that can hint at decaying matter or filter fatigue. When the numbers shift, it means something’s changed, even if the water still looks crystal clear.

What I love most is how this small device turns something invisible into data you can see. It’s not for testing specific toxins like lead or PFAS, but it gives you a deeper, lab-grade view of what’s flowing through your taps. For anyone who likes to experiment, measure, or just understand their environment a little better, the 6-in-1 tester is endlessly fascinating–and surprisingly satisfying to use.

Taste – Fustini’s Olive Oil

When I lived in Michigan, I discovered a small shop in Traverse City called Fustini’s that completely changed how I think about olive oil. They specialize in single-varietal, single-origin oils — no blending, no shortcuts. The olives go from tree to oil in about three hours, which is extraordinary. The result is something you can actually taste — bright, peppery, alive.

I’ve been ordering from them ever since. My go-to is the Coratina, bold and robust, perfect for cooking. For salads or finishing dishes, I love the lighter Arbequina — smooth and buttery. And if you want something special, try their 12-year white balsamic vinegar. A drizzle of that on fresh tomatoes or salad? Pure bliss.

Fustini’s isn’t just another olive oil store. It’s a reminder that freshness, craft, and care still matter.

Here’s to another week of small joys and simple discoveries.

Always ❤️📚💡

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

Growing up, as a rare treat, my mom would come home from the grocery store with a “Chinese apple” - otherwise known as a pomegranate. It wasn’t an every-week purchase - pomegranates were expensive then, a kind of luxury fruit. But once in a while, she’d bring one home because she knew how much I loved the taste of those tiny, jeweled seeds.

When she pulled the fruit from the grocery bag, I’d light up. My dad would take out a sharp knife, slice it open, and reveal a world of crimson brilliance inside - hundreds of glistening seeds packed so tightly together they looked like treasure.

From a distance, they seemed easy to reach. But anyone who’s ever pried open a pomegranate knows the truth: you have to work for the reward. The seeds don’t come freely; they resist. You have to pick them out carefully, one by one, staining your fingers red in the process.

As a kid, I dreamed of a big bowl filled with those seeds - no peeling, no picking, no work. Just the pleasure. But that was never how it went. Pomegranates made you earn their sweetness. They taught patience, effort, and appreciation.

Fast forward forty years.

I’m walking through the grocery store with my daughter Ruby, and there it is - an entire container filled with pomegranate seeds, ready to eat. No mess, no work, no waiting. I smile, amazed by how far we’ve come. I buy them often now, grab a spoon, and savor the same crunch, the same sweetness. It still reminds me of home, of my mom calling them “Chinese apples,” of my dad’s careful slicing, of simple afternoons when everything felt abundant because it was rare.

But sometimes, when I eat them now, I miss the work.

I miss the quiet ritual of slicing open the fruit, the red-stained fingers, the reward that came slowly. Because while convenience has given us access to almost everything, it’s also taken away something subtle but sacred - the satisfaction of effort.

There’s a kind of sweetness you can’t prepackage.

Some things are meant to be earned.

Maybe that’s the lesson hidden inside the pomegranate - the things that truly nourish us rarely come easy. They take patience, persistence, and a little bit of mess.

But when you finally hold that small handful of seeds, when you taste what you’ve worked for - it’s worth every bit of it.

Welcome to this week’s Three Book Thursday.

1. Decision making
The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbable

Summary
Every so often, a book doesn’t just change how you think - it changes what you think about. The Black Swan is one of those books. Taleb explores the power of the unpredictable - those rare, life-altering events that seem impossible until they happen, and obvious only in hindsight. The real lesson? Our world is far less predictable - and far more fragile - than we like to believe.

Black Swans are those events that reshape everything - 9/11, the financial crisis, the pandemic. We never see them coming, yet afterward, we tell ourselves we should have. The problem isn’t surprise - it’s arrogance. We crave certainty and order, but life runs on randomness. It humbles us, reminds us that what truly shapes our lives are often the moments we never planned for.

For anyone navigating uncertainty, Taleb’s message is both a warning and a challenge: stop trying to predict the future and build a life that can thrive in its unpredictability. That’s what he calls being “antifragile”- not just resilient, but made stronger by stress and change.

Taleb invites us to stop fearing the unknown and start designing systems–businesses, habits, lives–that benefit from volatility. The same randomness that breaks some people makes others extraordinary.

The Black Swan reminds us that life’s biggest turning points won’t come with a warning label. But if we stay humble, curious, and adaptable, those moments won’t shatter us–they’ll forge us.

• Quote: “The unexpected almost always finds us unprepared, while the predictable rarely changes us.”

• Principle: The world we imagine is always simpler than the world we live in.

• Insight: History is opaque. You see what comes out, not the script that produces events.

Author: Nassim Taleb
Themes: Decision making, Human psychology, Investing
My personal notes from the book

2. Biography
The Snowball: Warren Buffett and the Business of Life

Summary
Warren Buffett once said, “Life is like a snowball. The important thing is finding wet snow and a really long hill.” That single metaphor captures not just his philosophy of investing–but of living. The Snowball isn’t a story about money. It’s a story about time, discipline, and the quiet power of compounding effort, curiosity, and integrity over a lifetime.

Alice Schroeder’s biography takes us inside Buffett’s world - not the Oracle of Omaha we know from headlines, but the man behind the patience. His success wasn’t built on quick wins or strokes of luck; it came from playing the long game, relentlessly. Buffett saw what most of us overlook: that the biggest returns in life don’t come from taking massive leaps, but from steady, consistent motion in the right direction - one good decision after another.

What makes Buffett remarkable isn’t his wealth - it’s his restraint. His ability to say no. To sit still when the world around him is sprinting. To understand that compounding only works when you don’t interrupt it. The same principle applies to our health, our craft, our relationships: what we nurture patiently grows quietly until one day it becomes unstoppable.

The Snowball is ultimately a book about values. About the kind of success that outlives its balance sheet. It’s a lesson in patience, humility, and purpose - reminding us that the true measure of wealth isn’t just financial gain, but the richness of a life built with intention.

• Quote: “You cannot possibly succeed until you start. The way to begin making money is to begin. Hundreds of thousands of people in this country who would like to make a lot of money are not making it because they are waiting for this, that, or the other to happen. Begin it!”

• Principle: Praise by name, criticize by category.

• Insight: In teaching your kids, I think the lesson they’re learning at a very early age is what their parents put an emphasis on. If all the emphasis is on what the world’s going to think about you, forgetting about how you really behave, you’ll wind up with an Outer Scorecard.

Author: Alice Schroeder
Themes: Biography, Personal finance, Investing
My personal notes from the book

3. Memoir
In an Uncertain World: Tough Choices from Wall Street to Washington

Summary
From his years as co-chairman at Goldman Sachs to U.S. Treasury Secretary under President Clinton, Rubin lived his life surrounded by complexity–financial crises, political tension, global volatility–and yet, through it all, he maintained a single guiding philosophy: embrace uncertainty, don’t fear it.

Rubin argues that the world is not predictable - and never has been. Success, in any field, doesn’t come from eliminating risk but from learning how to make good decisions without certainty. He calls it “the probability mindset” - accepting that you’ll never have perfect information, and yet still moving forward with clarity, humility, and courage.

What makes this book timeless is Rubin’s refusal to sugarcoat complexity. He shows that the best leaders are not prophets–they’re problem-solvers. They weigh probabilities, think long-term, and never confuse confidence with certainty. They understand that progress depends not on knowing the future, but on acting wisely within its fog.

There’s a line that runs through this book and straight into life itself: we live in a world we can’t control, but we can control how we think in it. That’s the edge.

Rubin’s story is a reminder that our power lies not in predicting what’s next, but in preparing ourselves to adapt, respond, and lead with integrity when it arrives.

• Quote: “My general experience in life has been that most people can change only within a narrow range, if at all. Many people can acknowledge criticism and advice, but relatively few internalize it and alter their behavior in a significant way.”

• Principle: Markets can remain irrational longer than you can remain solvent .

• Insight: Inner needs drive external accomplishments but can never be satisfied by those external accomplishments.

Author: Robert Rubin
Themes: Memoir, History, Politics, Investing
My personal notes from the book

Maybe the lesson in the pomegranate, Warren Buffett’s snowball, Taleb’s black swan, and Rubin’s uncertain world is the same: the best things in life take time, risk, and a little bit of mess.

We live in a world built for convenience—prepackaged seeds, instant answers, overnight success—but the things that last still require patience. Earning them gives them meaning. The real growth happens not when we know what’s coming, but when we keep moving forward despite not knowing.

So wherever you are—building a business, healing patients, raising kids, or just trying to figure out what comes next—remember this: the sweetness is in the work. The uncertainty, the waiting, the doing. That’s where character compounds, where resilience takes shape, and where life tastes the most alive.

Always ❤️📚💡

P.S. In the 18th and 19th centuries, when pomegranates first began appearing in North America, they were often called Chinese apples because they were exotic, imported from the East, and roughly apple-sized. The term stuck in certain regions - especially the South and parts of the Northeast - and older generations sometimes still use it today.

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

Here are three things that brought me joy, added value to my life, made me laugh, made me cry, solved a problem, or just made life a little more interesting. Basically–cool stuff worth passing along.

Show – Paradise [Hulu Episode link]

Every once in a while, a show surprises you - not because it’s loud or hyped, but because it’s layered. Paradise on Hulu is one of the most under-the-radar shows I’ve seen in years. It’s thoughtful, emotional, and beautifully made. And stays with you in a way that’s hard to explain.

I measure shows by how often I rewatch them, and I’ve already watched Paradise twice. There’s something about its mood, its honesty, and the way it explores what we believe to be real that keeps me coming back.

The music in the show is also great. Especially if you like ‘80s and ‘90s ballads! If you’re looking for something that’ll make you think, feel, and maybe even hit play again when it’s over, Paradise is it.

Product – Kirkland Signature Ultra Plush Microfiber Towel

I’ve always thought a rag was a rag—until I found this one. Costco’s Kirkland Signature Ultra Plush Microfiber Towel isn’t just another cleaning cloth; it’s a quiet little miracle. It picks up everything. I’ve used it to lift a coffee stain out of carpet, wipe down kitchen counters, and even clean my car windows to a perfect streak-free shine.

But here’s where it truly earns its name: it’s the best thing I’ve ever used to clean my glasses (thanks for the suggestion Phyllis). No smudges. No haze. Just crystal clarity. I know it sounds ridiculous to get this excited about a rag, but it’s that good.

These rags are so effective that when I told my wife I was going to share them here, she said, “Don’t—you’ll cause a shortage.” Fair warning.

Treat – Askinosie Box O’ (Mini) Chocolates

I’ve got a serious sweet tooth - especially after meals. If my daughter’s baking, I’ll take down three or four of her chocolate chip cookies without blinking. But when there’s nothing fresh out of the oven, I reach for Askinosie chocolate.

They’re one of the few chocolate makers that still does everything the right way—ethically sourced, small-batch, and ridiculously good. My go-to is their Box O’ (Mini) Chocolates - a mix of dark pieces ranging from 70% to 77% cacao. Each one is just one or two bites, the perfect amount to satisfy a craving without going overboard.

It’s not cheap, but it’s quality you can taste. A box lasts me about two to three months—mainly because I hide it from the rest of the house.

Here’s to another week of small joys and simple discoveries.

Always ❤️📚💡

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

As you may recall from my earlier post about managing my cholesterol, I’ve been trying to lower my LDL without medication. That mission brought me back to the gym with more consistency - nothing extreme, just showing up, putting in the work.

I’ve spent a lot of years in gyms. Dynamic Fitness at 17, where a few high school buddies (shout out to Seth Churi) and I would lift for two hours in the evenings. The SERF at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, where I also happened to meet the woman who one day I would marry—she was the ID checker. During med school, it was the JCC and Rutgers Rec Center. During residency, it was NYU’s gym. And after that, any house I moved into, I made sure to build a gym in the basement. For a few years in Michigan, I worked out in Andrew Rees’s garage (Urban Gym) - hands down the best workouts I’ve ever had.

But wherever I’ve trained, one thing has been constant: the mirror.

Every gym has a wall of them. And almost every workout, my routine eventually lands me in front of that mirror, usually seated on a bench, doing bicep curls.

After the first set, I drop the dumbbells, lean forward, hands on my knees, headphones in. And I look up.

And there I am–staring back.

It’s that moment between sets I’ve grown to love the most.

I don’t use it to flex (at least not anymore). I use it to reflect.

Not on how I look, but on what I’m doing—with my time, my health, my life. I think about what’s possible. About who I’m becoming. About the gap between where I am and where I want to be.

In those two minutes, I’m thinking about potential.

And lately, I’ve started noticing everyone else around me in those moments. The guy doing a shoulder press. The woman at the squat rack. The college kid doing dead lifts. All of them–just for a moment–staring at themselves in the mirror, too.

And I wonder: What are they seeing?

What story are they telling themselves between sets?

Maybe they’re admiring progress. Or regretting time lost. Maybe they’re chasing something–confidence, health, redemption. Maybe they’re just proud to be there, doing the work, not quitting.

And maybe, like me, they’re looking into their future. Measuring not who they are–but who they still want to be.

See, most of our day is spent looking outward–at other people, at screens, at problems we’re trying to solve. But in the gym, that mirror pulls you inward.

It’s the rare moment when you get to see your effort–not just your appearance. And when you catch that glimpse, it can light a spark.

It reminds you that you’re still in the fight. That change is possible. That progress, even slow and silent, is still progress.

So now, when I see others staring at themselves between sets, I smile–not out of judgment, but out of solidarity.

Because I know that moment.

I know how sacred it can be.

And I hope–whoever they are, whatever they’re working through–they find something in that reflection worth believing in.

Welcome to this week’s Three Book Thursday.

1. Entrepreneurship
The Practice

Summary
There’s a quiet but powerful truth at the heart of this book: you don’t become creative, prolific, or successful by accident. You earn it through the practice. Not a practice. The practice.

In The Practice, Seth Godin strips away the mythology of creativity—that it’s reserved for the lucky, the inspired, the chosen. He reminds us that meaningful work—whether it’s writing, building a business, delivering care, raising a family, or leading a team—doesn’t come from waiting for a lightning bolt. It comes from showing up. Every day. Especially when no one is watching.

I’ve long considered Seth Godin my adulthood mentor. We’ve never met, but I’ve read all of his books, and his ideas have shaped how I think about work, purpose, and contribution. His writing is the filter I often run my own ideas through—a reminder to lead with generosity, consistency, and courage.

The book reads like a series of sharp, purposeful reflections. Each one a small nudge forward. He challenges the idea that we need confidence to begin. In fact, it’s the opposite. We build confidence by doing. Over time. Through repetition. Through generosity. Through making things better by making things first.

For anyone who’s felt stuck—staring at the blank screen, the unlaunched idea, the quiet season of uncertainty—this book is fuel. Godin gives you permission to stop stalling and start sharing. To stop obsessing over perfect and start trusting the process.

It’s not about chasing outcomes. It’s about becoming someone who ships. Someone who leads. Someone who makes things better.

You don’t need guarantees. You need a process.

You don’t need validation. You need to keep showing up.

That’s the practice.

And if you commit to it, over time, it changes everything.

• Quote: “The only way to be on the journey is to be on the journey.”

• Principle: Your work is too important to be left to how you feel today.

• Insight: Creativity is an action, not a feeling.

Author: Seth Godin
Themes: Entrepreneurship, Personal development, Culture, Starting a business, Running a business
My personal notes from the book

2. Biography
Elon Musk

Summary
Love him or hate him, Elon Musk has changed the world.

You don’t have to agree with his methods, admire his personality, or even like the guy. But if you care about innovation, leadership, or building something that leaves a mark–then understanding Musk matters. Because what Isaacson gives us in this biography isn’t just a portrait of a person. It’s a deep dive into what happens when someone refuses to accept limits.

This book doesn’t read like a highlight reel. It’s raw. At times uncomfortable. It doesn’t hide Musk’s flaws–his intensity, his erratic decisions, his often brutal leadership style. But that’s part of what makes it so powerful. Isaacson shows us what it really looks like to build rockets while bankrupt, to sleep on factory floors, to push through setbacks with a level of obsession most people can’t understand—–et alone tolerate.

And that’s the central tension of the book: Musk isn’t balanced. He’s not the guy you go to for advice on work-life harmony. But he is a reminder of what’s possible when you’re willing to bet everything on your vision.

For anyone trying to move the needle in their world–Elon Musk is both cautionary tale and masterclass. It forces you to ask hard questions: What are you willing to sacrifice? How do you balance conviction with empathy? When do you follow reason–and when do you break the rules?

But in a world that often values comfort over courage, Musk’s story is a jolt–a reminder that progress doesn’t come from playing it safe.

It comes from those willing to build, fail, rebuild, and keep going.

• Quote: “The people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who do.” -Steve Jobs

• Principle: It’s not how well you avoid problems. It’s how fast you figure out what the problem is and fix it.

• Insight: I was concerned that if I didn’t study business, I would be forced to work for someone who did.

Author: Walter Isaacson
Themes: Biography, Running a business, Product development
My personal notes from the book

3. Living a full life
How to Live: A Search for Wisdom from Old People (While They Are Still on This Earth)

Summary
This book is built around one question: What have you learned about how to live? Henry Alford sets out to ask that question to people in their 70s, 80s, and 90s—some famous, some not—but all of them carrying stories and truths we rarely slow down to hear.

What he finds isn’t advice in bullet points. It’s something quieter. More human. People who’ve lived long lives talk less about achievement and more about joy. Less about winning, more about connection. Regrets are usually about what wasn’t tried, not what was. Gratitude shows up everywhere. So does humor.

As someone who’s always looking forward—building, doing, planning—this book reminded me of the value of looking backward, through the eyes of those who’ve already lived the miles we’re still walking.

For the ambitious, the busy, the driven—this is a pause worth taking. A chance to gather wisdom while it’s still here to be shared.

It’s not a guide to success. It’s a nudge toward meaning.

Because the best way to learn how to live… is to ask someone who already has.

• Quote: “It’s not about adding more years to your life, it’s about adding more life to your years.”

• Principle: A good life is made up of a thousand small decisions that no one applauds.

• Insight: Never underestimate the value of staying curious.

Author: Henry Alford
Themes: Living a full life, Personal development
My personal notes from the book

Each of these books circles the same quiet truth: the space between effort is where the real work begins.

It’s in that pause—between sets, between decisions, between chapters—where we start to see who we’re becoming. Not through intensity, but through intention. Through reflection, not reaction.

Whether it’s building something big, staying consistent with what matters, or learning how to live before it’s too late—it’s the space between that reveals the direction we’re headed. And sometimes, that’s all we need to keep going.

Always ❤️📚💡

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

The feedback from the initial Three Things Thursday was incredible—thank you. So…let’s keep it going.

Here are three things that brought me joy, added value to my life, made me laugh, made me cry, solved a problem, or just made life a little more interesting. Basically–cool stuff worth passing along.

Show – The New Look [Episode link]

I wasn’t expecting to like this show as much as I did. Why? Because it’s about fashion–and if you ask my wife, that’s not exactly my area of interest (or appearance). I buy new clothes every 5–10 years…lately, it’s closer to 10.

But after the first episode, I was hooked. The New Look is so much more than a story about fashion. It’s about history, values, perseverance, hope, entrepreneurship, family, and legacy. It’s beautifully made and unexpectedly emotional. If you love history, drama, or stories of triumph, you’ll enjoy this one.

Tool – Detachol Adhesive Remover

I first came across Detachol Adhesive Remover during my emergency medicine residency at Bellevue Hospital. We used it constantly to remove sticky bandages without tearing skin.

These days, I use it for the everyday annoyances–removing sticker residue or anything with leftover glue (always an issue when trying to peel labels off of things). Just this week, I had to peel off an old parking sticker from my windshield, and it left a mess. A little Detachol on a cotton ball, and within seconds the glass was spotless.

I don’t use it often, but every time I do, it makes me smile. It’s one of those small, underrated tools worth keeping in the house. Hard to find, but this particular brand is made in Ferndale, Michigan–just down the road from where I lived years ago.

Video – Bike Lanes by Casey Neistat

This one’s pure fun. It’s a short video, but it’s vintage Casey Neistat–creative, clever, and laugh-out-loud funny. A reminder that sometimes the simplest ideas, when done well, can make the biggest impact.

Here’s to another week of small joys and simple discoveries.

Always ❤️📚💡

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

I’ve been tracking my blood work since the year 2000.

It started back in medical school. I was drowning in lectures, night shifts, and cafeteria coffee, but somehow found the energy to build a spreadsheet–cholesterol, LDL, triglycerides, year over year. I’d log my labs and look for patterns. I remember noticing, maybe only anecdotally, that during the most stressful chapters of training–ICU months, Step exams, long stretches of 24-hour shifts–my cholesterol would spike. And when the dust settled, so would my numbers.

After residency, I kept tracking. A commitment that stretched across decades. I now have 25 years of data–enough for a graph with a meaningful trend line.

For most of that time, everything was in the normal range. Until about three years ago, when the numbers started to shift–specifically my LDL, which took a steady climb upward. And that number, we know, is linked to increased risk of atherosclerosis.

If a friend came to me with my exact numbers, this is what I’d tell them (and I have as some of you know!):

Get your ass off the couch. Make fitness a priority. Ease up on the burgers and late-night ice cream. Commit for six months–real effort, not half-hearted promises. Then redo your blood work. If there’s improvement, keep going. If there’s not, it might be time to consider medication. Simple. Honest.

But the truth? I didn’t follow my own advice.

Not right away.

Like a lot of us, I lived in that space between knowing and doing. I told myself I was fine. I exercised—kind of. I watched my diet—sometimes. But mostly, I coasted.

Until this year.

At the end of August, I made the commitment. I turned the whisper of concern into a full-volume experiment.

Daily movement.

Strength training, walks, hikes, jump rope, swimming.

Diet changes—less alcohol, smaller portions, fewer sweets.

(One scoop of Häagen-Dazs, not the pint… most nights.)

It’s been a month now.

Not long enough to declare victory, but enough to feel the difference. In mood, in sleep, in how my clothes fit. And in something less measurable but more important–how I show up for myself.

I’m sharing this with you for two reasons:

1. For accountability. I want to stay honest.

2. Because maybe there’s someone out there–maybe it’s you–who’s been sitting on the edge of a decision for too long. And if this helps you take one small step, that’s worth it.

I’ll retest my labs at the end of 2025. I’ll share the results, whatever they are. And in the meantime, I’ll keep you posted on whether I’m keeping the promise–almost daily movement, and more intentional meals.

And just to be clear: I’m a doctor, but this isn’t medical advice. Talk to your own doctor about your own numbers.

Welcome to this week’s Three Book Thursday.

This week, we’re revisiting four books—three as usual, plus one bonus. These books shaped the framework I’m using for this experiment.

1. Health and wellness
Outlive: The Science and Art of Longevity

Summary
This is probably the best, most practical book I’ve read on longevity and healthspan. I’ve been following Attia for quite some time and could never truly get onboard with his philosophy–it was always a bit too complex and, frankly, impractical. But once he turned 50-years-old, his thinking simplified and he seems to have found a strategy and voice that I can work with (and so can you). If your health matters to you, this is a must read. It is never too late to focus on your health–physical and mental. I’ve learned that our bodies are amazingly resilient and can withstand years of poor nutrition, poor sleep, and little exercise. But if you give it what it needs–exercise, nutritious foods, sleep, relationships–your body will return the favor and you’ll feel the best you’ve ever felt. It does not take any special diets or training plans to make this change. All it takes is for you to get started. The rest will take care of itself.

• Insight: Regular exercisers live as much as a decade longer than sedentary people.

• Insight: I now consider exercise to to be the most potent longevity drug in our arsenal.

• Quote: There comes a point where we need to stop just pulling people out of the river. We need to go upstream and find out why they’re falling in. -Bishop Desmond Tutu

Author: Peter Attia
Themes: Health and wellness, Living a full life
My personal notes from the book

2. Personal development
Own the Day, Own Your Life

Summary
This is a fresh approach to health, wellness, and building effective routines. The book fundamentally changed how I approach each morning and had a significant impact on my diet and fitness routines.

• Principle: To live one day well is the same as to live ten thousand days well. To master twenty-four hours is to master your life.

• Insight: The little things are the big things.

• Quote: No man ever steps into the same river twice. For it’s not the same river, and he is not the same person -Heraclitus

• Instruction: Accomplish these tasks in the first 20 minutes of waking up

  • Activity (light movement)

  • Hydration (water)

  • Outside light (sunlight)

Author: Aubrey Marcus
Themes: Personal development, Health and wellness
My personal notes from the book

3. Health and wellness
The New Evolution Diet: What Our Paleolithic Ancestors Can Teach Us About Weight Loss, Fitness, and Aging

Summary
I am not one for diet books (in fact, I believe there is no such thing as a successful diet). Nonetheless, this was a fascinating read and touched on diet and health principles that I was unfamiliar with. It challenged my previously held beliefs. The advice makes sense. I’ve adopted a few new behaviors from this book. There will be other health and wellness books in future Three Book Thursday’s that I’d recommend more than this one. But, The New Evolution Diet is worth a read. See what you think.

• Insight: Of all athletes, those who sprint-basketball, soccer, rugby players, and football players, are the most capable and have the best bodies.

• Insight: Walking and sprinting are the safest and most beneficial forms of aerobic exercise.

• Insight: Muscle is medicine against developing metabolic diseases.

• Insight: Doing a few intense muscle exercises, each lasting about 30 secs, dramatically improves your metabolism in just two weeks.

Author: Arthur De Vany
Themes: Health and wellness
My personal notes from the book

Bonus: Health and wellness
Younger Next Year: A Guide to Living Like 50 Until You’re 80 and Beyond

Summary
If you are looking for something to inspire physical change in your life, this book is it. Another two reader for me, once on audio and once hardcopy. I recommended this book to my friend Barry Kanczucker and he said it changed his life. I think his Peloton streak is now more than 1,000 days and he is fitter than ever! We are learning that exercise is truly the key to healthspan. It’s so simple, yet so few do it. This book may be just the right spark.

• Insight: The message from thousands of studies, over decades of medical research, is clear: Never go on a diet again. The only way to lose weight is to embark on a program of steady, vigorous exercise, avoiding the worst foods being thrust upon you in our national diet and eating less of everything.

• Insight: People with arthritis often see it as a barrier to strength training. But arthritis is not a contraindication. Quite the contrary. The combination of strong muscles and improved proprioception protects the joints from further damage and lets them heal.

• Insight: Exercise changes all this because if, and only if, you exercise regularly, the chemistry of your blood changes. The chronic inflammatory signals of sedentary life get replaced by signals to grow, to heal, to recover. The bottom line. Exercise reverses the chemistry of decay.

Author: Chris Cowley and Henry Lodge
Themes: Health and wellness, Living a full life
My personal notes from the book

Always ❤️📚💡

P.S. Let me know if you’ve been on a similar journey and what were some of your most effective behavior changes that led to positive results.

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

Most mornings I spend about 30 minutes with a book from my shelf, transferring the notes I took years ago into Evernote. Those notes eventually become the Three Book Thursday posts you read each week (or every other week…or sometimes every three weeks, LOL).

Right now, that list sits at 415 books. To date, I’ve shared about 270. I still have another 50–100 waiting to be catalogued, and since I read about 1–2 books per week, at my current pace I’ll finish processing everything in about six months.

But here’s the thing—I’ve been thinking about how else I can provide value to the 25,000+ of you who read Three Book Thursday. Ozan Varol and Tim Ferriss both share weekly roundups of what they’re reading, watching, or exploring, and I’ve always loved those posts. They’re short, practical, and often spark something new. So I thought: why not make my own version?

Enter Three Things Thursday.

Each week, I’ll share three things that brought me joy, added value to my life, made me laugh, made me cry, solved a problem, or simply made life more interesting. Basically—cool shit worth passing along.

So here’s act one. Let me know what you think.

Podcast Episode – Rich Roll interviews Dr. Marc Brackett [Episode link]

On my daily walks or hikes—usually about an hour—I’ll either catch up with friends and family on the phone or listen to a podcast. I listen to so many that sometimes I have to take a break just to let my queue refill. This week, one stood out: an interview with Dr. Marc Brackett on the Rich Roll Podcast.

Dr. Brackett, a Yale professor and founding director of the Yale Center for Emotional Intelligence, dropped insight after insight. Every idea made me pause: That makes sense. I want to try that. Now I get why I reacted that way. His work is both practical and profound. By the end, I had already ordered his latest book, Dealing with Feeling: Use Your Emotions to Create the Life You Want.

Gadget – Vitamix 5-Speed Immersion Blender

I love to cook—and I love kitchen gadgets. I first pulled out this immersion blender because my son hates tomato chunks in his sauce (I love Rao’s marinara). In seven seconds flat, I could smooth the sauce and pour it back into the jar. Since then, I’ve used it for everything from blending soups to whipping cream—half-and-half turns into whipped cream in about 45 seconds. It’s become one of those tools I can’t imagine my kitchen without.

Movie – The Life of Chuck [Amazon], [Apple]

This has quickly become one of my favorite recent films—I watched it twice in one week. If you’re looking for something that’s both entertaining and heartwarming, this is it. The story is metaphorical and unfolds in reverse chronological order, so it takes a moment to find your footing, but once you do, it’s deeply rewarding. I loved it so much I bought the book it’s based on, written by Stephen King (the movie is better than the book). This isn’t horror. It’s reflective, sweet, and uplifting. Expect to shed a tear or two.

That was fun. What do you think?

Always ❤️📚💡

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

This past week, the annual ACEP conference came to Salt Lake City—the city I now call home for much of the year. It had been years since I last attended, but I decided to stop by. I wanted to catch up with old friends, sit in on a few lectures, and soak up the sense of purpose and possibility that always seems to linger in the hallways of conferences like this.

So I walked into the Salt Palace Convention Center, name tag-free, no agenda, just curious. I spent the morning wandering from session to session, lingering at the edges of familiar faces and hallway conversations. And just as I was about to head out, a man and woman approached me.

“Are you Dr. Rosh?” he asked.

I nodded, and he smiled.

His name was Raymond. He started talking about Rosh Review—how he had used it to prepare for his boards, how it helped him through one of the most high-pressure seasons of his life. I’ve had a lot of these conversations over the years. But then Raymond shifted.

He started talking about Three Book Thursday.

He told me how much it had meant to him. How it helped him feel less alone. That he, too, had once struggled to get into medical school. That test-taking hadn’t come easy. That the pressures of clinical work still pressed in. That he and his wife were raising a child who was facing some profound challenges right now.

And right there, in the corner of a busy convention hallway, he opened up. He shared details most people save for late-night talks with close friends. He didn’t hold back. And I didn’t want to move.

Because in that moment, I understood something I hadn’t before.

These newsletters I send… sometimes it’s easy to forget there’s a real person on the other end. That the stories I write—the moments of struggle, failure, doubt, joy—might actually land somewhere. Might actually matter. Might actually help someone keep going.

Raymond reminded me of that.

He reminded me of the impact we can have just by showing up. Just by telling the truth. Just by being a little bit more human.

And as if the week needed one more dose of meaning, I had just finished reading What You’re Made For by George Raveling—a book gifted to me by my friend David Mishkin. David had no idea how perfectly timed that gift would be. Raveling’s voice lit me up. He gave shape to things I’ve always believed but never had the words for.

So I did what we all should do when a book moves us—I passed it on. I sent a copy to Mike Sanders, a friend who I know will not only appreciate it, but pay it forward.

Raveling died earlier this month at the age of 88. His life was full—athlete, coach, mentor, Nike executive, civil rights leader. But what made him special wasn’t the titles. It was how he used them. He saw his life not as a resume, but as an opportunity. A chance to serve, to shape, to inspire.

This week reminded me of that.

So to Raymond—thank you. For your honesty, your vulnerability, your courage. For reminding me why I write.

To David—thank you for the book, the friendship, and the thoughtfulness that always seems to show up at the right time.

To Mike—thank you for being someone I trust to carry the torch.

And to Anthony Mazzarelli—thank you for breakfast.

Welcome to this week’s Three Book Thursday.

1. Living a full life
What You're Made For: Powerful Life Lessons from My Career in Sports

Summary
I first heard George Raveling’s name back in June 2020, during a podcast with Tim Ferriss. Raveling was sharp, grounded, and full of wisdom that didn’t sound like advice—it sounded like truth. He spoke like someone who had earned every insight. I remember thinking, “I need to read more about this man.” And then, like so many things, I moved on. Never followed up.

Fast forward three years. I get handed the book by my friend David Mishkin.

What You’re Made For isn’t just about sports, though Raveling’s life was deeply rooted in the game. It’s about discipline. Relationships. Service. It’s about what happens when you stay curious long enough, work hard enough, and care deeply enough to live a life that means something—not just to you, but to the people around you.

Raveling’s journey is full of unexpected turns. He grew up poor, lost his father early, and lived through America’s most turbulent racial divides. And yet, he became a Big East basketball coach, Nike executive, mentor to presidents, and the man who held the original copy of Dr. King’s “I Have a Dream” speech. But that’s not what defines him.

What defines Raveling is how he lived—with urgency, gratitude, and depth. He didn’t just show up for his career. He showed up for people. For growth. For the long game.

Reading this book reminded me that living a full life doesn’t require fanfare. It requires intention. Effort. And the humility to learn from everyone you meet. Raveling calls that out directly: don’t chase titles. Chase meaning. Don’t hoard knowledge. Share it. Don’t wait to become the person you want to be. Start building that version of yourself right now.

This book didn’t hand me a blueprint. It handed me a mirror. A reminder to lead with heart. To live fully. And to keep finding the people—and the moments—that bring you back to what really matters.

Thank you, Dave, for handing me this spark.

And thank you, George Raveling, for showing us what a life well-lived actually looks like.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “Plant a lot of flowers on the way up, because you’re going to have to pick them on the way down.”

• Insight: Our struggles give meaning to our triumphs.

• Principle: Small, daily victories can compound into life-changing achievements.

Author: George Raveling
Themes: Personal development, Living a full life, Leadership

2. Fiction
All the Light We Cannot See: A Novel

Summary
Set during World War II, All the Light We Cannot See follows Marie-Laure, a blind French girl navigating a crumbling world, and Werner, a German orphan with a gift for engineering who’s pulled into the war. Their lives move toward each other slowly, inevitably, and what unfolds isn’t a grand collision—but a series of small, powerful moments that ask what it means to be good in a broken world.

This book isn’t about war. It’s about resilience. About navigating the unknown, finding beauty in ruin, and holding onto integrity when everything around you asks you to let go.

What moved me most was how much this story mirrors our own lives—how we lead, how we parent, how we move through uncertainty. Marie-Laure doesn’t have sight, but she sees what matters. Werner is trained to obey, but starts to listen to something deeper. Both remind us: clarity isn’t about seeing everything. It’s about choosing what to see.

Slow down for this one. It’s worth it.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “Time is a slippery thing: lose hold of it once, and its string might sail out of your hands forever.”

• Insight: See obstacles as opportunities. See darkness as a canvas.

• Principle: Even the largest avalanche is triggered by small things.

Author: Anthony Doerr
Themes: Fiction

3. Memoir
A Wrestling Life: The Inspiring Stories of Dan Gable

Summary
Dan Gable isn’t just a wrestling legend. He’s a symbol of what’s possible when you combine obsession with purpose. This is a man who went undefeated through high school, lost only once in college, and then went on to win Olympic gold without giving up a single point. But this book isn’t just a record of wins–it’s a story of what it takes to get there. The hours. The losses. The tragedy. The pain. And ultimately, the choice to rise.

Gable doesn’t tell his story to impress. He tells it to teach. He walks us through the habits, the mindset, the sacrifices that shaped his life–and he does it with humility and honesty. What emerges isn’t just a portrait of an elite athlete, but of a man who understood that success isn’t an event, it’s a system. It’s showing up. Every day. Especially when you don’t feel like it.

One of the most powerful themes in this book is how Gable responded to adversity. His sister was murdered when he was a teenager–a loss that could have broken him. But he channeled that pain. Turned it into fuel. And that resilience, that ability to turn personal tragedy into performance, is something that speaks far beyond the mat.

This book made me think deeply about what it means to commit–to something, to someone, to yourself. Gable teaches that greatness isn’t a gift. It’s earned. Rep by rep. Hour by hour. Through discomfort, discipline, and the decision to keep going when no one’s watching.

For anyone chasing excellence, A Wrestling Life is a reminder that you don’t need to be perfect. But you do need to be relentless.

Because sometimes the fight isn’t against an opponent—it’s against the urge to settle.

And Dan Gable shows us what happens when you never stop wrestling.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “Gold medals aren’t really made of gold. They’re made of sweat, determination, and a hard-to-find alloy called guts.”

• Insight: I never feared the opponent. I feared not living up to my own standard.

• Principle: Most people stop when they’re tired. Champions stop when the job is done.

Author: Dan Gable
Themes: Memoir, Peak performance, Personal development

This week reminded me that our lives are built in the small moments. A conversation in a convention hallway. A book passed between friends. A spark that shifts something inside us.

Raymond’s words, George Raveling’s legacy, Dan Gable’s grit, Marie-Laure’s resilience—they all point to the same truth: we are shaped by the choices we make in mundane moments. When we decide to show up. To share. To keep going.

We don’t always know who’s listening. Or which gesture will matter. But the ripple starts somewhere.

And sometimes, that’s all it takes to change a life.

So this week, do the small thing. The kind thing. The thing that might feel too simple to matter. It does.

Plant the flower. Send the book. Say the truth.

You never know what it will become.

Always ❤️📚💡

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

Back in 2011, a close friend of mine—David Mishkin, someone I worked with at Detroit Receiving Hospital—texted me with an offer I couldn’t pass up: 50-yard line tickets to a Monday night Miami Dolphins game. He knew I was a die-hard Dolphins fan. I had never been to an NFL game, so I planned the trip around an overnight ER shift. I’d finish at 7 a.m., head straight to the airport, and catch some sleep on the plane.

I still remember that shift. A trauma rolled in at 5 a.m., and I wasn’t sure I’d make it. But we stabilized the patient, got him to the OR, and I made it to DTW airport just in time. I walked to the gate as the boarding process began. But just before I scanned my ticket, my phone rang.

It was my wife. Our babysitter had canceled. My wife—who had just started her faculty role at Wayne State University—needed to teach her class. And there was only one person left to watch our kids: me.

I didn’t board the plane.

I turned around, went home, and never made it to the game. I called my friends to apologize, but I don’t think they ever fully believed me. Maybe they thought I flaked. I felt awful about it for years.

So when David called again almost nine years to the day—this time with tickets to a Dolphins game in November 2022—I jumped at the chance. Not just because I still hadn’t been to a Dolphins game. But because I wanted to prove I’d show up. I’d make good on the trip.

David mentioned something almost as an afterthought: “Bring Rhys’s glove and bat. There’s a guy down here who gives hitting lessons.”

That guy turned out to be Brandon Brewer—an assistant coach at the University of Miami. What started as a casual training session turned into something far more meaningful.

We flew down, just Rhys and me. We played catch with David and his sons, hit ground balls at a local park, and then headed to the University of Miami for that first lesson. Brewer spent two hours with Rhys—and taught him more than he’d learned in two years. There was magic in it. You could feel it.

That night we went to the Miami Heat game. Sunday we finally made it to the Dolphins game. And the rest of the weekend—New York–style pizza at Miami’s Best, nitrogen ice cream at Chillin, sunshine, laughter—was pure joy.

But here’s the thing: that weekend wasn’t the destination. It was the beginning.

Since then, Miami has become a second home. We’ve returned dozens of times, each visit anchored by baseball training but expanded into something much bigger. A rhythm. A tradition. A joy.

It’s been three years now—of early Saturday mornings on the field, of pizza and ice cream and university t-shirts, of watching U Miami baseball games and being welcomed like family. And that’s what it’s become. A family. One we never expected.

And it’s all because of two people: David Mishkin and Brandon Brewer.

Their invitation, their presence, their generosity—changed our lives.

David reentered my life just when I needed it. Brewer showed up for Rhys in ways that shaped not just his swing, but his confidence, his path, his future.

From one phone call, one missed flight, one unexpected batting lesson—came a cascade of moments that shaped our family. That formed friendships that will last a lifetime.

That’s the beauty of life, isn’t it?

You think you’re going for the football game. Turns out, you’re showing up for something much bigger.

Welcome to this week’s Three Book Thursday.

1. Memoir
Molly's Game: The True Story of the 26-Year-Old Woman Behind the Most Exclusive, High-Stakes Underground Poker Game in the World

Summary
Molly’s Game is one of those books that grabs you from the first page and doesn’t let go. It’s fast, sharp, and wildly entertaining—but behind the glamour and chaos is something deeper: a story of ambition, resilience, and reinvention.

I didn’t expect to be so inspired by a story about underground poker rooms and Hollywood elites. But Molly Bloom isn’t just a former Olympic hopeful who built the most exclusive, high-stakes poker empire in the world—she’s a force of nature. She had an instinct for people, a hunger to succeed, and the kind of courage that shows up strongest when everything falls apart.

This was such a fun, addictive read—and the movie adaptation? Outstanding. But what really stayed with me was Molly’s refusal to quit. She could’ve taken an easier route. She could’ve betrayed her players, taken deals, sold out. Instead, she stood her ground. She took the hit. And then she started again.

Molly’s Game is more than a tell-all. It’s a blueprint for how to carry yourself when the stakes are high and the spotlight is blinding. It’s about betting on yourself—not just when you’re winning, but especially when you’re not.

If you’ve ever had to pivot, rebuild, or prove yourself in a room where no one expected you to belong—this one will speak to you.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “Everyone’s life is either a warning or an example—mine is both”

• Insight: Poker is much more than a game. It's a strategy for life. If you are going to be a risk taker, make sure you're taking calculated risks.

• Principle: People will pay a fortune to feel powerful—but they’ll betray you for free

• All of my notes

Author: Molly Bloom
Themes: Memoir, Gambling, Growing a business

2. History
A People's History of the United States

Summary
A People’s History of the United States doesn’t read like the history books I remember from school.

It doesn’t celebrate conquest. It doesn’t let power go unchallenged. Instead, it flips the script—putting the voices of the marginalized, the workers, the dissenters, the forgotten, front and center.

I first heard about the book in college, thanks to the movie Good Will Hunting. There’s a scene where Will, played by Matt Damon, says: “You wanna read a real history book? Read Howard Zinn’s ‘A People’s History of the United States.’ That book’ll… knock you on your ass.” So I read it.

And he was right.

The book is dense. It’s heavy. It’s not something you breeze through on a Sunday morning with coffee. But it’s worth every page. Zinn doesn’t just tell you what happened—he asks you to question who’s telling the story. He walks you through the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, the labor movement, the civil rights era—not through the eyes of generals and presidents, but through the people who lived in the shadows of those decisions. The coal miners. The enslaved. The immigrants. The activists. The people who usually get a footnote, if they’re mentioned at all.

Reading it gave me something I didn’t know I needed at the time: a reminder that truth depends on perspective. That history is not just about what happened, but who tells it. And that the voices on the margins often carry the clearest vision of justice.

That lesson stuck with me. It’s shaped how I see medicine, how I approach business, how I try to parent and lead. It reminds me that in every room, every team, every system—there are perspectives not being heard. And if you want to make good decisions, or just be a better human—you need to make the effort to hear them.

A People’s History doesn’t give you a feel-good story. But it gives you something better: the full story. One that forces you to see the complexity of progress. One that challenges you to pay attention to the people history usually leaves behind.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “There is no flag large enough to cover the shame of killing innocent people”

• Insight: If those in charge of our society — politicians, corporate executives, and owners of press and television — can dominate our ideas, they will be secure in their power.

• Principle: Small acts, when multiplied by millions of people, can transform the world.

• All of my notes

Author: Howard Zinn
Themes: History

3. Fiction
Vector

Summary
I still remember the class—an elective in college on bioterrorism. We were assigned Vector as part of the syllabus, and to be honest, I didn’t expect much. Up to that point, I hadn’t read much fiction, especially not cover to cover. But this one grabbed me. I tore through it. It became the first fiction book I ever finished in full during college—and it opened the door to an entire genre I’ve come to love. Medical thrillers. The line between science and story. Truth and terror. And Vector has stayed with me ever since.

Robin Cook, a physician-turned-author, has made a career out of crafting stories that sit at the intersection of medicine, ethics, and public fear—and Vector delivers all of that with intensity.

The premise is chilling: a former Soviet bioweapons technician defects to the U.S. and finds himself disillusioned, angry, and underemployed. He partners with white supremacists and extremists in New York City to unleash a biological attack—anthrax, precisely delivered. What makes this story terrifying isn’t just the science—it’s the psychology. It’s how quiet, fringe anger can turn into coordinated destruction. It’s how disinformation, ideology, and resentment can merge with expertise to create something lethal.

What struck me then—and still does—isn’t just the science (which is spot on), but the vulnerability. How thin the line is between safety and catastrophe. How easily a system can be breached not by a villain in a lab, but by someone hiding in plain sight.

But Vector isn’t just a thriller. It’s a cautionary tale. A reminder that knowledge is neutral—it’s how we use it that gives it power. That science, without ethics, can be weaponized. And that protecting the public requires more than protocols—it requires people who are willing to pay attention, ask hard questions, and act fast.

Vector is a compelling reminder that the quiet things, the overlooked things, the things no one wants to imagine… are often the ones we need to understand the most.

This was the book that made me realize fiction can teach us something real.

And that thrillers—when done well—don’t just entertain us.

They wake us up.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “The truth doesn’t care about politics, comfort, or opinion—it just waits to be discovered.”

• Insight: In a world driven by science, ignorance is the most dangerous pathogen

• Principle: The scariest part of evil is not its size—but its subtlety

• All of my notes

Author: Robin Cook
Themes: Fiction, Science fiction

Sometimes the biggest shifts in our lives don’t announce themselves. They arrive as a text message. A missed flight. A weekend trip that wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

But then something—or someone—changes the course.

This week’s stories all speak to that truth. A poker game that became a life’s turning point. A forgotten voice in history that reshaped how we understand justice. A fictional thriller that pulled real fear into focus.

And a football game that wasn’t really about football at all.

It’s a reminder that meaning often hides inside the moments we almost overlook.

So say yes. Take the trip. Follow the thread.

Because sometimes, what looks like a detour is actually the beginning.

Always ❤️📚💡

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

I just returned from Japan.

It was my second time there, and I’ll say this again: if you’ve never been, go. At least once in your life. It’s a place unlike any I’ve ever visited. The kind of place that doesn’t just show you things—it teaches you things. Quietly. Gently. Without trying to.

Japan holds a rhythm all its own. Ancient temples and futuristic toilets. Sake bars and Zen gardens. It’s a country that’s adapted to the modern world without surrendering its soul. Walking through it felt like walking through a poem—each street a stanza, each shrine a verse.

And in the middle of this poetic chaos, I found myself sitting across from a Buddhist monk.

My list for the trip was mostly food, sake, and wandering the neighborhoods of Tokyo and Kyoto. But one morning, I accepted an invitation to visit a temple. I was met by a guide who walked me through its history and customs, and then I was introduced to the monk—a gentle man in his sixties who had the kind of presence you notice before he even speaks. Through a translator, we began to talk about meditation.

Now, I’m not a formal meditator. I don’t sit cross-legged on cushions or use apps that track my breath. But I do meditate—I just never called it that. I find it on long walks, park benches, early mornings with coffee. Quiet moments where the world softens and the noise goes dim.

Still, I figured—when in Japan. So I agreed to sit with him.

He lit a single candle and placed an incense stick beside it. The room was still. He asked me to look at the flame, then follow the smoke rising above it.

“Watch it,” he said. “Not just once. Every second.”

The smoke twisted and curled above the flame. Sometimes straight. Sometimes erratic. It shifted with every breeze in the room, every beat of air. And then he said something memorable:

“Appreciate the change. That is life. Every moment, different than the last. Different from the next. This moment you are in—it is the only one like it. You will never get it again. So notice it. Fully. And then… let it go.”

It made sense at the time. It was a beautiful metaphor.

The next morning, waking up in my hotel room, something deeper clicked.

It wasn’t about how fleeting life is. I already know that. I’ve watched enough last breaths in the ER to know how short our time can be.

No, this wasn’t about death. It was about aliveness.

It was about this second. This exact heartbeat.

I realized how much of my life is spent somewhere else—thinking about what’s next, what needs to be done, what I’m becoming. But that monk reminded me that the only time I truly own is the one I’m in.

That’s what meditation is, I think. Not the posture or the breathing—but the noticing. The stillness inside the motion.

And I’ve been thinking about that candle ever since.

The smoke rising above it, never the same shape twice.

Just like us.

Welcome to this week’s Three Book Thursday.

1. Memoir
I Love Capitalism!: An American Story

Summary
I Love Capitalism!: An American Story is more than a memoir—it’s a raw, unapologetic celebration of hustle, grit, and belief in possibility.

I picked up this book for a personal reason. I did my emergency medicine residency at NYU—NYU Langone—and for years, I wondered about the “Langone” behind the name. Who was he? What did he build? How did his story unfold?

This book answered all of that—and more.

Ken Langone is best known as one of the co-founders of Home Depot, but what makes his story extraordinary isn’t just the scale of his success. It’s where he started. Born to working-class parents in Roslyn Heights, Long Island, Langone wasn’t handed anything. No trust fund. No fancy degrees. Just a willingness to outwork everyone around him and a deep respect for relationships—especially the kind built on loyalty, integrity, and doing the right thing when no one’s watching.

What struck me most was his clarity. Langone never pretends to be perfect, but he owns his story—every bet, every loss, every fight, every win. And that honesty is rare. Whether he’s reflecting on his role in taking companies public, navigating backroom boardroom drama, or standing up for the underdog, he brings you inside his world with the same boldness that made him one of Wall Street’s most influential figures.

But this book isn’t just about business. It’s about identity. About values. About legacy. Langone shows us that capitalism, when done right, isn’t just about profit—it’s about people. It’s about giving back, paying forward, and lifting others as you rise. He doesn’t see success as something to hoard—he sees it as something to share.

For anyone who’s ever built something from scratch—or dreamed of doing so—this book is fuel. It’s a blueprint for boldness, a field guide for doing business with heart, and a playbook in what it means to bet on yourself—and win.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “A kid once said to me, "Money doesn't buy everything." I said, "Well, kid, I was poor, and I can tell you right now, poverty doesn't do a very good job either."”

• Insight: You don’t need permission to chase your dream, you just need the guts to start.

• Principle: If you believe in something deeply enough, you fight for it—even if everyone else walks away.

• All of my notes

Author: Ken Langone
Themes: Memoir, Entrepreneurship, Economics, Wealth creation

2. Entrepreneurship
The New New Thing: A Silicon Valley Story

Summary
The New New Thing isn’t just about Silicon Valley—it’s about the spirit of reinvention. It’s a book about chasing what’s next before anyone else even sees it coming.

Michael Lewis, in his usual brilliant, observational style, gives us a front-row seat to the rise of tech culture at the turn of the millennium. At the center of it all is Jim Clark—an entrepreneur not content with building one billion-dollar company. He wanted to build three. Or more. He started Silicon Graphics, then Netscape, then Healtheon, each time redefining not just an industry, but the nature of ambition itself.

What struck me wasn’t just Clark’s restlessness—it was his pattern: see something the world hasn’t noticed yet, build fast, and never look back. Clark wasn’t a manager. He was a builder. An engineer of disruption. A man so allergic to stillness that even his yacht—a literal floating mansion—had to be wired with real-time tech to satisfy his need for speed, precision, and control.

And that’s the heartbeat of the book: the new new thing. That moment just before a breakthrough becomes obvious. That whisper of a possibility before it’s a headline. Lewis captures the people who live in that space—between innovation and instability, confidence and chaos—and it’s a place that should feel familiar to anyone who’s built something, risked something, or tried to change something.

Reading this reminded me that the edge—the uncomfortable, untested, unproven—is where growth happens. It’s messy. Uncertain. But it’s also where possibility lives.

Whether you’re in medicine, business, research, or leadership, the lesson here is clear: the world doesn’t stop moving. And if you want to matter in it, you have to be willing to break the mold, to move fast, to bet on what’s not obvious—and to trust that boldness, curiosity, and discomfort are the prerequisites for impact.

The New New Thing isn’t about tech. It’s about mindset. And it’s a powerful reminder that the future doesn’t arrive fully formed. It’s built—by those crazy enough to start early.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “The best technology is indistinguishable from magic.”

• Insight: Most of them are no more interesting than you and me. You have to trust me on this (Lewis on billionaires).

• Principle: The people shaping the future rarely wait for permission.

• All of my notes

Author: Michael Lewis
Themes: Entrepreneurship, Running a business

3. Memoir
Eyewitness To Power: The Essence of Leadership Nixon to Clinton

Summary
Eyewitness to Power is a study in leadership under the highest pressure, with the greatest stakes, written by someone who stood close enough to feel the heat.

David Gergen served in the White House for four presidents—Nixon, Ford, Reagan, and Clinton—and advised a fifth, George H. W. Bush. He had a front-row seat to power, watching how leaders lead, how they fall short, how they rally, how they fail. But this isn’t a gossip memoir. It’s a blueprint. A search for the essence of what real leadership looks like, stripped of spin and self-deception.

What struck me most was how different these presidents were—and yet how much their effectiveness came down to a few core things: moral compass, emotional control, clarity of vision, willingness to listen, and the ability to build a team that could both challenge and execute.

Gergen doesn’t romanticize anyone. Nixon was brilliant but paranoid. Ford was decent but lacked vision. Reagan communicated with unmatched skill, yet delegated to the point of disconnect. Clinton was dazzling in intellect and charisma—but undisciplined. And yet, in each of them, you find pieces. Strengths and blind spots. Gifts and gaps. And the thread that runs through all of it? Character. Leadership always bends back to character.

Reading this, I couldn’t help but think about the people I’ve worked with—in hospitals, in business, in coaching—and how often leadership falters not from lack of skill, but from lack of self-awareness. Gergen’s reflections offer a reminder that being in charge doesn’t make you a leader. But how you carry the weight of responsibility might.

For anyone managing teams, guiding organizations, or even just navigating their own ambition—this book delivers. It’s a mirror. A caution. A call.

We live in a time that desperately needs better leadership—not just in politics, but in every field. And Eyewitness to Power offers more than nostalgia or critique. It gives us a framework. A chance to ask: What kind of leader am I becoming?

And maybe more importantly—what kind of leader do the people around me need?

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “It is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.” -Winston Churchill

• Insight: The measure of a leader, it is said, is the shadow he leaves behind.

• Principle: Leadership is less about charisma and more about clarity.

• All of my notes

Author: David Gergen
Themes: Memoir. Politics

The candle, the smoke, the moment—what the monk reminded me is this: presence fuels purpose. Langone’s grit, Clark’s reinvention, Gergen’s leadership—they all stem from people showing up fully in the moment they’re in. Not distracted. Not scattered. But clear, focused, and alive in the now. You don’t need to meditate to be mindful. You just need to notice what’s in front of you—and choose to engage with it like it matters. Because it does. The next breakthrough, the next win, the next insight—it starts right here. In this second. This breath. This heartbeat.

Always ❤️📚💡

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

The other day, I was hiking the hills near my house in Salt Lake City. It wasn’t Everest, but it wasn’t easy either—just a steep, steady climb up the side of the Wasatch Mountains. I passed the giant “U” for the University of Utah etched into the hillside, snapped a photo, and kept going. My body felt strong. My mind, however, had other ideas.

As I climbed, I was deep into a podcast on black holes—gripping stuff, until I started thinking about something far more terrestrial: chicken tikka masala. And a movie night. And my couch. You know how it goes. The legs start to ache. The mind starts negotiating. You think about turning back.

That’s where I was—mid-debate with myself—when I walked past a sign, partially hidden in the brush. I kept walking a few steps, then stopped. Something made me turn back. I stepped off the trail, leaned over, and read the words:

DON’T GIVE UP.

That was it.

Three simple words planted in the ground, anonymously and quietly. No name, no branding, no QR code—just a reminder.

And I smiled. Because whoever put that sign there knew. They knew this was the moment—the moment when hikers start bargaining with themselves. They knew this was where many people decide whether to keep going or not. And they also knew how close the summit really is.

The sign didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. But it told me exactly what I needed to hear.

We all reach these points—on hikes, in life, in work, in relationships—where turning back feels easier than moving forward. Not because we’ve reached our physical limit, but because our minds get tired. Distracted. Weighing the comfort of stopping versus the discomfort of pressing on.

That little sign reminded me that belief—especially belief in yourself—is often the difference.

So I kept going.

Finished the hike. Felt the sweat. Felt the win. And yes, still made it home in time for that tikka masala.

But I carried something more with me: the power of small encouragements. Of unexpected nudges. Of reminders planted by people I’ll never meet but who still found a way to help me through.

Sometimes we don’t need a loud cheer. We just need a quiet sign that says:

Keep going. You’re closer than you think.

Welcome to this week’s Three Book Thursday.

1. Negotiation
Getting to Yes: Negotiating Agreement Without Giving In

Summary
Getting to Yes is one of those books I wish I had read earlier—not just for business, but for life.

It’s about negotiation, yes—but not in the way most people think. There’s no strong-arming here, no manipulative tactics or power plays. This book is about how to negotiate without destroying relationships. How to stand firm on what matters while remaining open to new paths. And how to walk away not just with an agreement—but with respect.

At its core, Getting to Yes is about principled negotiation. It teaches you to separate the people from the problem. To focus on interests, not positions. To invent options for mutual gain. And to insist on using objective criteria to reach decisions. Sounds simple. It’s not. But it’s a mindset shift that changes everything.

Reading it, I kept thinking about the places where conflict shows up in our lives—contract negotiations, business deals, family dynamics, parenting, even internal battles with ourselves. So much of that tension comes from trying to win. But this book reminds us: negotiation isn’t about victory. It’s about movement. Alignment. Progress.

One idea that stuck with me was BATNA—Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement. It’s the concept of knowing your walk-away option. Knowing your BATNA changes how you show up. You’re clearer. You’re stronger. You’re not negotiating out of fear—you’re negotiating from a place of purpose.

This isn’t just a toolkit. It’s a philosophy. One rooted in empathy, clarity, and strength. The kind of strength that doesn’t need to shout. It just stands firm.

For anyone navigating a career transition, leading a team, managing conflict, or simply trying to get better at tough conversations—this book is gold. And for those of us in medicine, where negotiation often lives in the unspoken—between physicians and patients, administrators and staff, policy and practice—it offers a way forward. A way to say yes to outcomes that matter, without giving in on the values that define us.

If you’ve ever felt stuck in a conversation that’s going nowhere—or lost yourself in a negotiation that became a battle—this book will bring you back.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “Perhaps the best way to change their perceptions is to send them a message different from what they expect.”

• Insight: The more you clarify your position and defend it against attack, the more committed you become to it. The more you try to convince the other side of the impossibility of changing your opening position, the more difficult it becomes to do so. Your ego becomes identified with your position.

• Principle: Bitter feelings generated by one such encounter may last a lifetime.

• All of my notes

Author: Roger Fisher and William Ury
Themes: Negotiation, Human psychology

2. Fiction
Arrow of God

Summary
Arrow of God is the kind of novel that reaches into a specific moment in history—and somehow tells a story that feels personal, timeless, and unsettlingly familiar.

I first encountered this book in college, during a course on African literature. I remember walking in skeptical. I didn’t know what to expect—and honestly, I wasn’t sure it would speak to me. But what happened in that class reshaped my understanding of story, power, and perspective. I was introduced to Chinua Achebe—and through him, to a body of literature and a history I likely never would have found on my own.

Set in colonial Nigeria, Arrow of God explores the collision between tradition and change, faith and power, identity and resistance. It’s not just a historical novel—it’s a psychological one. A slow burn. A deep dive into what happens when the world you’ve built starts to fracture.

At the center is Ezeulu, the chief priest of the god Ulu—a man deeply rooted in ritual, structure, and spiritual authority. He believes he is acting on divine instruction. He believes he is holding the line. But the world around him is shifting—colonial forces, Christian missionaries, tribal politics—and his refusal to adapt sets in motion a quiet unraveling.

What struck me most wasn’t just the story of Ezeulu. It was what it revealed about leadership, certainty, and the cost of being “right.”

We’ve all seen it—leaders who refuse to bend, who confuse stubbornness with strength. Ezeulu is brilliant, devout, and principled—but his rigidity becomes his undoing. He’s a man caught between the gods and the British Empire, between loyalty to the past and the chaos of the present. And in trying to preserve his world, he ends up accelerating its collapse.

Achebe doesn’t moralize. He doesn’t offer easy heroes or villains. What he gives us is complexity—and in that, something far more valuable. A mirror. A chance to reflect on how we lead, how we listen, and what we’re willing to let go of to make room for something new.

Arrow of God isn’t just a novel about colonialism. It’s about identity. Power. Change. And what it means to serve something greater—without losing yourself in the process.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “The death that will kill a man begins as an appetite.”

• Insight: The world is like a mask dancing. If you want to see it well, you do not stand in one place.

• Principle: A man who brings home ant-infested firewood should not be surprised when lizards visit.

• All of my notes

Author: Chinua Achebe
Themes: Fiction

3. Investing
How to Trade In Stocks

Summary
How to Trade in Stocks by Jesse Livermore is a time capsule of market psychology and personal discipline from one of the most legendary traders to ever live. First published in 1940, its lessons still ring true today, not because they’re technical or algorithmic, but because they speak to the deeper truths of human behavior, risk, and decision-making.

I read this book not as a manual, but as a mindset shift. Livermore doesn’t just share how he made millions (and lost them)—he shares how he thought about markets, about himself, about fear, greed, and discipline. That’s what makes this book timeless. It’s not about stock tips. It’s about self-awareness.

Livermore believed that the stock market is never wrong—but people often are. He taught that the key to success isn’t prediction—it’s observation. Wait for the market to tell you where it’s going. Don’t act on hope or fear. Act on confirmation. And once you make a decision, stick to it with conviction—but only as long as the data supports it. That delicate balance between patience and decisiveness? That’s the real edge.

He also stressed the importance of protecting your capital above all else. Livermore’s rule: never add to a losing position. Emotion is the enemy of clarity. The market doesn’t care about your feelings, and neither should your strategy.

For me, the relevance of this book goes beyond trading. It’s about developing a system that aligns with your principles and sticking to it. Whether you’re leading a company, managing a crisis, or navigating personal decisions—the lesson is the same: have a plan, test it with small bets, protect against downside, and let your winners run.

How to Trade in Stocks reminds us that in business, in markets, and in life—the real game is emotional control.

And mastery doesn’t come from knowing what’s next. It comes from knowing how you’ll respond.

If you want to sharpen your thinking, study your tendencies, and learn from a man who turned discipline into fortune—this book is worth your time.

It’s not about Wall Street. It’s about human nature.

And that’s a market that never stops moving.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “Profits always take care of themselves, but losses never do. ”

• Insight: Being a little late in your trade is your insurance that you are right or wrong.

• Principle: Have the courage of your convictions and stay with it.

• All of my notes

Author: Jesse Livermore
Themes: Investing, Personal finance

That small sign on the trail—DON’T GIVE UP—wasn’t about hiking. It was about mindset.

Each of this week’s books explores the same truth: progress comes not from force, but from clarity. From knowing when to hold steady, when to adapt, and when to let go. Negotiation, leadership, investing—these aren’t games of domination. They’re acts of awareness. Of focus. Of belief.

You don’t have to be loud to be powerful.

You just have to know where you stand—and have the courage to keep going.

Always ❤️📚💡

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

Last week, I shared the story of Three Years, Three Stars, One Unforgettable Team. And now comes the harder part: closure.

How do you wrap up something that meant so much? How do you step away from a team that didn’t just take the field together—but built something lasting together?

We tried our best.

We gathered in Salt Lake City for a final banquet. Almost every Star and their families were there. The room was full—of laughter, of tears, of stories told and hugs that lingered just a little longer than usual. It was more than a goodbye. It was a celebration of everything we built.

My close friend Mike Sanders used to remind me: a small group of ordinary people can do extraordinary things.

Well, this group did.

And I wanted to honor them properly. To reflect. To share what this team truly became.

What follows is a tribute to each of the players and coaches who made the Salt Lake Stars what they were—followed by the closing remarks I shared that night, words that tried to capture what this team, and this journey, meant to me.

Because this wasn’t just baseball.

It was community. It was belief. It was love.

Introducing, the Salt Lake Stars

Dash Allen #3

Dash joined the Stars at 13U and stayed through 14U. From the very beginning, you could feel the passion in the way he approached the game. There’s a quiet fire in Dash—a deep competitive spirit that came out when the moment was big and the team needed him most.

He started with us as a shortstop, but when he moved over to first base, everything clicked. His glove transformed our infield. Dash turned tough plays into routine outs, picked balls out of the dirt, and gave our defense a sense of calm and confidence.

At the plate, he delivered so many key hits—mixing power with precision—and in the dugout, he was always tuned in, always present, always ready.

But what made Dash truly special was his balance. On the outside, he was gentle and kind. On the inside, he was a fierce competitor. That contrast made him respected by everyone who shared the field with him.

Dash, thank you for your heart, your grit, and the edge you brought to this team. You made the Stars tougher, sharper, and better.

Downtown Jack Brown “JB” #2

Jack was with us from the very beginning—12U fall and spring—and left a mark that went way beyond the stat sheet. He was always positive, always smiling, and somehow always made the team feel a little lighter. Whether he was handing out nicknames in the dugout or just flashing that trademark JB grin, Jack reminded us that baseball is supposed to be fun.

But don’t let the easy smile fool you—Jack was a competitor. He worked hard, stayed focused, and learned to overcome challenges on and off the field.

JB, thank you for being the kind of teammate everyone wants to play with. Your heart, humor, and hustle helped shape this team’s identity.

Xadian Butcher “Butch” #14

Xadian joined the Stars in a way that perfectly fits who he is—we posted an ad on the RMSB website, and Brittani answered. No tryout. Just trust. And from day one, Xadian proved he belonged. He played every position on the field—pitcher, catcher, infielder, outfielder—and no matter where we put him, he played hard.

If we had asked him to run through a brick wall for the team, he would’ve done it. That’s the kind of player Xadian was—fierce, fearless, and absolutely committed. Whether it was making diving plays in the outfield, firing throws from behind the plate, or just delivering in a big moment, Butch always found a way to impact the game.

Off the field, he was the heart of the dugout—laughing, creating videos with his teammates, cracking jokes, and building friendships that will last long after the Stars. He brought intensity, fun, and fire—everything a team needs to win and stay together.

Xadian, thank you for your courage, your edge, and your willingness to give this team your whole heart. You were the engine in so many of our wins—and a core piece of what made the Stars a family.

Ryan Cushman #11

Ryan wasn’t the loudest voice in the dugout, but make no mistake—his presence was always felt. He brought a calm, grounded energy to the Stars, and when Ryan was on the field, there was a quiet confidence in the way he played.

And when he wasn’t on the diamond with the Stars, he was often beating his teammates on Xbox—which, depending on who you ask, might’ve been just as competitive.

Ryan, thank you for being the kind of teammate who brought steadiness and a quiet determination that anchored the team in ways that often go unnoticed—but never unappreciated.

Griffin Dickson #9

Griffin grew—literally and figuratively. He developed into a confident, skilled athlete.

He was critical of himself, always pushing to improve, always demanding more. And when the moment called for it, Griffin delivered—especially on the mound. He gave us big-time performances in high-stakes games, especially in Omaha, where he pitched with total focus and composure. But beyond the stats, Griffin was a core leader on this team.

Off the field, he connected deeply with his teammates. Whether it was a late-night meal with his teammates or just time in the dugout, Griffin found his place and made it feel like home.

Griffin, thank you for your leadership, your drive, and your passion for this game. You’re the kind of player who makes everyone around you better—and you’ve helped define what it means to be a Star.

Sebastian “Sebbe” Estrada #50

Sebbe joined the Stars at 13U and quickly became one of the most reliable and versatile players on the field. It didn’t matter where we needed him—outfield, infield, pitcher—Sebbe always said yes and gave everything he had.

He plays the game with grit. There’s a quiet toughness about him that every coach notices and every teammate respects. You’d look up and realize Sebbe was making plays everywhere—fielding with precision, throwing with confidence, or stepping on the mound in big moments.

But beyond his natural talent, what stood out most about Sebbe was his steady presence. He wasn’t the loudest voice, but his impact was felt deeply. He showed up, competed hard, and made everyone around him better.

Sebbe, thank you for bringing your fire, your skill, and your team-first mentality to the Stars. You were one of those players who could do it all—and did.

Jack Fuller #8

Jack isn’t someone who demanded the spotlight—but he always found a way to make a meaningful impact. Whether it was delivering a clutch base hit, making a big play in the field, or stepping onto the mound when the team needed him, Jack showed up. He played with quiet strength and a deep sense of purpose.

And let’s not forget—it’s not always easy to play on a team where your dad is one of the coaches. But Jack handled it with maturity and grace. He carved out his own identity and did it with humility.

Jack, thank you for your perseverance, your quiet leadership, and your steady growth. You are the kind of player every team needs—and we’re better because you were a part of this one.

Barrett Glotzbach #48

Barrett was with us from the beginning—12U, 13U, and into 14U—and his impact can’t be overstated. Even before the Stars officially existed, we knew Barrett was someone we needed.

Barrett was a natural leader. When the energy dipped, when the dugout got quiet, when the game got tough—he was often the one who pulled the team back together. He brought fire, joy, and intensity to every inning. He was the guy you relied on to lift the group, whether with his play, his voice, or just his presence.

And off the field, Barrett was the same—always helping out, always showing up for his teammates. He brought consistency, character, and passion to this team from day one.

Barrett, thank you for being the spark, the leader, and the teammate every coach dreams of. You were there from the beginning, and your fingerprints are all over what this team became.

Taydem Hamblin #35

Taydem proved to be one of the most versatile and reliable players we had. He played almost every position on the field—not because he had to, but because he could. Infield, outfield, catcher, pitcher—wherever the team needed him, Taydem stepped up.

And when we needed strikes, when the game called for someone calm and collected on the mound, Taydem was the player we turned to. He wasn’t flashy—he was steady. He gave us what every coach hopes for: trust. You could trust Taydem to compete, to stay composed, and to deliver.

Taydem, thank you for your adaptability, your consistency, and your unshakable presence. You were a rock for this team—and the kind of player that helps hold everything together.

Drew Johnson #10

Drew joined us at 12U without ever having tried out—he came to us on a trusted recommendation, and from that moment on, he earned everything. Over the next three years, Drew became a steady, vital presence in our lineup and in our team culture. He turned into our leadoff hitter, delivered clutch hits, ran the bases hard, and brought consistency to every part of his game.

But Drew’s greatest strength may have been his quiet competitiveness. He wasn’t flashy—but he cared deeply. He worked through hard moments, battled when things didn’t go his way, and kept showing up—ready to contribute, ready to grow.

Drew, thank you for the steadiness, the grit, and the care you brought to this team. You made the Stars better every time you took the field—and we’re proud of the player and person you’ve become.

Ashton McDonald #5

Ashton played with us at 12U and 13U, and what immediately stood out was his attitude. He showed up to every practice and every game with a smile on his face and a heart full of energy. He was always kind, always coachable, and always ready to give his best—no matter the role, no matter the situation.

Ashton had this way of lifting the team just by being himself. His presence reminded us that the game is supposed to be fun. And yet, behind that ever-present grin was a player who quietly worked hard, paid attention, and gave 100% every time he stepped on the field.

Ashton, thank you for being a light on this team. Your attitude, effort, and love for the game made a lasting impact—and we’re all better for it.

Aaron “Air” McNair #2

Aaron joined us in the fall of our final season, and stepping into a close-knit team that late is never easy. But Aaron didn’t just fit in—he became the anchor of our 14U squad. He showed up with humility, embraced the challenge, and earned every bit of respect that followed.

He grew tremendously—not just in skill, but in confidence and presence. Whether it was taking the mound in tight situations or laughing with teammates from across the field between plays, Aaron quickly became a central thread in the Stars fabric.

I’ll never forget that game-saving moment when the bases were loaded, two outs, and a rocket shot was ripped up the middle—only for Xadian to make a diving catch behind Aaron and seal the win. That kind of trust between teammates doesn’t happen overnight. Aaron had built that connection. He had become one of them.

Aaron, you brought steadiness, heart, and quiet leadership to this team. You made us better, and you reminded us what it looks like to step into a new challenge and own it.

Korbin Middleton #31

Korbin joined us at 13U, and from the moment he stepped on the field, you could tell: this was a player who would do whatever it took for his team. Catcher, pitcher, outfield, infield—Korbin did it all, and he did it with intensity, focus, and joy. He was the definition of a utility player, and more than that—he was a spark.

Whether he was starting a rally or sprinting out to warm up a pitcher, Korbin was always ready. And when the pressure was highest, like in Omaha, he dug in and found something deeper—grit. He handled big moments with poise and proved time and again that he could rise when it mattered most.

Off the field, Korbin was pure fun. He kept the mood light, made his teammates laugh, and brought a contagious energy that lifted the dugout. His joy for the game reminded all of us why we started playing in the first place.

Korbin, thank you for being all-in, all the time. Your toughness, versatility, and spirit made you indispensable—and unforgettable.

Jaxon Mustache #99

Jaxon joined us for 13U and 14U, and from the moment he strapped on the catcher’s gear, he became a wall behind the plate. He took more foul tips, hard blocks, and bruises than most players will in a lifetime—and he never backed down. Game after game, inning after inning, Jaxon caught with toughness, pride, and purpose.

But it wasn’t just the physical grit. Jaxon brought a presence. A big personality. A voice that echoed through the dugout. He made people laugh, fired up his teammates, and made opposing runners think twice. He had a way of making every game feel just a little more alive.

And his leadership behind the plate was undeniable. He kept pitchers calm, controlled the tempo of the game, and made sure everyone knew what was coming next. He was the heartbeat of the defense.

Jaxon, thank you for your toughness, your voice, and the fire you brought to the Stars. You anchored this team—not just with your glove, but with your energy, your leadership, and your heart.

Jack Nalder #12

Jack was with us for both 13U and 14U, and from the beginning, it was obvious—this kid had serious talent. He could play anywhere on the field and make it look easy. Whether it was tracking down a fly ball or taking the mound, Jack brought smooth, effortless athleticism to every position he touched.

But what made Jack special wasn’t just his physical ability—it was his quiet confidence. He didn’t need to say much. He just played. And in doing so, he earned the respect of his teammates and coaches alike.

Jack, thank you for your versatility, your calm presence, and your steady commitment to the team. You showed us that impact doesn’t always come from being loud—it comes from showing up and delivering, time and time again.

Enrique Negrete #16

Enrique joined us for our 14U season, and from day one, it was clear—this kid had heart. But what made Enrique stand out wasn’t just what he brought physically—it was how much he wanted to learn, to grow, and to succeed.

He worked hard. He took feedback. He cared. That combination made him incredibly coachable and made the team stronger. Even though he joined later in the journey, Enrique quickly became someone we could count on for the way he showed up every day to compete and improve.

Enrique, thank you for stepping in, stepping up, and showing what it looks like to mix natural talent with hard work. Your future is bright, and we’re proud you wore the Stars jersey.

Jackson Noonan #4

One of the most courageous things Jackson did was choosing to play with the Stars, even when his dad was coaching the Park City Miners. That decision took self-belief, independence, and a quiet kind of strength—core values we talk about but rarely see lived out so clearly.

Jackson may not have been with us for every tournament, but when he was, you felt his presence. He played with intent, hustle, and heart. He showed us that being a Star isn’t about how long you’re here—it’s about how you show up while you are.

Jackson, thank you for choosing this team. Your courage and commitment to your own path made you unforgettable.

Finley Peterman #23

Finley played with the Stars from 12U through 14U, and over those three years, he did it all—pitching, catching, first base, outfield. He’s one of the most gifted athletes we’ve had, and what made him special wasn’t just his raw ability—it was that when Finley believed in himself, you could feel the shift. He became unstoppable.

There were times we leaned on Finley on the mound, times when we needed a big hit, times when we needed someone to simply settle things down. And more often than not, he delivered. Quietly. Calmly. Confidently.

But perhaps what stands out most is how Finley evolved—not just as a player, but as a person. He came in with potential and left as someone who understood what he could do when he trusted his talent and his training.

Finley, thank you for your presence, your growth, and your quiet leadership. You were one of the pillars of the Stars—and your journey helped shape the team into what it became.

Luis Rendon #28

Luis joined us in the spring of our 13U season, and though his time with the Stars was short, the impact he made was lasting. Luis brought undeniable talent—quick hands, a strong arm, and natural ability that stood out right away. But even more than that, he brought heart.

Luis was always willing to lend a hand, to support his teammates, and to step in wherever he was needed. He played with humility and joy, and that energy lifted everyone around him.

Though life took him to Texas, Luis remains part of the Stars family. His time with us, however brief, is a reminder that sometimes it only takes a moment to make a mark.

Luis, thank you for the talent, kindness, and spirit you brought to this team. Once a Star, always a Star.

Rhys Rosh #7

Rhys has been with the Stars since the very beginning. Over the course of three years, he grew into a player that every team dreams of having. He had the skill, the discipline, the competitive fire—but what defined Rhys most wasn’t his talent. It was his impact.

Rhys was the kind of player who could change a game. He often pitched in the biggest moments, closed out tight wins, and stood in the batter’s box with calm in high-pressure situations. But more importantly, Rhys became the player his teammates looked to—when they needed steadiness, confidence, or belief.

Playing for your dad is never easy. Being coached by your dad in front of your peers is even harder. But Rhys handled that with grace, maturity, and a level of self-awareness well beyond his years. And for me—as his coach and his father—there is no greater privilege than having had a front-row seat to watch him grow, not just into an elite player, but into a leader, a teammate, and a young man I deeply admire.

There were moments that tested him—when the game didn’t go his way, when frustration hit—but each time, he responded with resilience. He kept coming back. Kept working. Kept leading.

Rhys, thank you for being the heartbeat of this team. For your leadership, your humility, and the example you set every time you stepped onto the field. And thank you—for the memories we’ve made together, the hard conversations, the laughs, the long car rides, and the silent understanding that this has always been about more than baseball.

Mateo Sigala #0

Mateo joined us at just 11 years old, stepping onto a team filled with older, bigger, more experienced players—and he never flinched. He adjusted. He competed. He proved he belonged. And over the years, he didn’t just keep up—he quietly became a cornerstone of this team.

There are so many moments to celebrate, but one stands out. In his very first tournament, Mateo got picked off first base reading his wristband—a tough moment for any young player. But after that game, we gave him the first-ever “Be a Goldfish” award and talked about learning, letting go, and moving forward. Mateo took that lesson to heart, and he’s been modeling it ever since.

His presence in centerfield became almost automatic—a sure thing. His ability to stay calm in high-pressure situations, trust his training, and contribute to the team in big moments set him apart.

Mateo, thank you for your heart, your poise, and your belief in yourself. You showed us that age doesn’t define leadership—and that character is what truly makes a teammate.

Major Smith #9

Major joined us at 12U and stayed with the team through 14U. From the very beginning, he was someone we could count on. He played everywhere—outfield, first base, pitcher, catcher. He never asked for attention, never sought the spotlight, but always stepped up when the team needed him.

Major is thoughtful. Kind. Steady. And he’s also tough—mentally and physically. He played through setbacks, handled pressure with maturity, and became a deeply respected voice in the dugout. Whether he was warming up pitchers or driving in runs, he did it with heart.

Major, thank you for the grace you carried, the strength you built, and the belief you inspired—not only in yourself, but in the team around you. You’ve left a lasting mark on the Stars, and on everyone lucky enough to share the field with you.

Miles “Money” Swenson #13

Miles was with us from the beginning—12U through 14U—and over those three seasons, we watched him grow in every way.

Miles played with heart. He showed up ready, he gave everything he had, and he never gave up. Whether he was in the lineup or waiting for his moment, he was always locked in, always supporting his teammates, and always looking for a way to contribute.

He brought joy to the dugout, hustle to the field, and consistency to everything he did. There was no ego—just effort, and lots of it. Miles became the kind of player every coach hopes to have: reliable, hard-working, and full of character.

Miles, thank you for your spirit, your team-first mentality, and the way you always showed up ready to compete. You earned the name “Money”—and then some.

Coaches

Coach Jake Broadbent

Jake was cheering us on from afar before he ever stepped into the dugout—watching GameChanger streams, texting encouragement, following our journey. And when he was able to join us in person—whether in Cooperstown, Omaha, or right here at home—he brought a special presence that instantly elevated the energy of the team.

Jake connected with the boys in a way that’s hard to teach. He made them feel seen. He made them feel understood. He lifted them up—always with humor, always with positivity, always with a calm, steady voice. Whether it was encouragement in field, a word in the dugout, or just a quick smile between innings, Jake built real, lasting bonds with our players.

Jake, thank you for believing in the Stars, for showing up in every way that matters, and for helping make this team feel like home.

Ty “GM” Dickson

Without Ty, there would be no Stars. He’s been the lynchpin of this organization from the very beginning, not just in what he did, but in who he is.

Ty, your presence has been woven into every part of this team—whether it was planning behind the scenes, keeping things running smoothly, or bringing levity and warmth to the dugout. You were never just a support—you were a cornerstone. Your personality, your steadiness, your humor, and your genuine love for the boys were essential to everything the Stars became.

There are few people in the world like you—maybe no one, truly. And beyond the team, you’ve become one of my closest and most trusted friends here in Salt Lake City. I’ve learned from you. I’ve leaned on you. And I’ve admired the way you show up—as a father, as a friend, and as a person.

Thank you, Ty, for the hours you gave, the effort you put in, and the heart you brought—not just to the Stars, but to my life. You helped build something unforgettable.

Coach Gary Fuller

There are no words that can fully capture how thankful and grateful I am for Coach Gary Fuller. But I’ll try—because without him, there are no Stars. Period.

Gary was there from the very beginning. He stood beside me at the founding of this team, before there were uniforms, before there were wins, before anyone believed in what this could become. Gary believed. He believed in the vision, in the players, in the culture we wanted to build—and he gave everything he had to help bring it to life.

For three years, Gary was more than a coach—he was my partner, my co-pilot, and the steady presence who made sure the work got done. He was the one checking the fields, loading the gear, unlocking cages, setting up BP. He was the one who knew every player, every family, and every nuance of what this team needed to thrive.

And when life pulled me away during our final season, Gary stepped in and kept the Stars alive. He didn’t just fill a role—he led with grace, patience, and care. He carried the team forward, and he did it without hesitation, without ego, and with the kind of integrity that defines what coaching is truly about.

Gary didn’t just live the Stars culture—he helped create it. He believed in these boys, he pushed them, protected them, and showed up for them, over and over again.

Gary, thank you. For your time, your sacrifice, your leadership, and your unwavering commitment to this team. The Stars were only possible because you were part of it—and I will forever be grateful.

Coach Dave Gorner

There’s something undeniably poetic about coaching side by side with Dave Gorner.

Dave and I met in nursery school. We played our first baseball game together at age 7 and continued playing together—year after year—all the way through high school. We shared fields, dugouts, bus rides, wins, losses, and everything in between. And after all that, decades later, we found ourselves sharing the third-base line once again—this time as coaches, not kids.

Dave has always been my loyal friend—someone who would do anything for me. So when I asked him in 2022 if he’d come help coach a youth team I was building, he didn’t hesitate. He showed up. And what he brought changed everything.

Dave didn’t just coach. He helped define the identity of the Stars. His passion, his energy, his voice—it became part of who we were. Opposing coaches would come up to me at tournaments and say, “Who is that guy?” And I’d smile and say, “That’s Dave.”

He brought a fire and intensity that lifted us in our biggest games. He kept players locked in, taught them to take pride in the little things, and led with everything he had. Dave truly embodied our core values—competing with heart, showing up for his team, and leaving it all out on the field.

And for me personally, coaching alongside him has been one of the most meaningful full-circle moments of my life. From childhood teammates to lifelong friends to Stars coaches—this chapter is something I’ll treasure forever.

Dave, thank you for your loyalty, your leadership, and for giving this team—and me—everything you had.

Coach Brett Hamblin

Brett brought an incredible depth of baseball knowledge to the Stars, but what truly set him apart was his care for the boys. His coaching went far beyond mechanics—he taught with patience, belief, and quiet strength. So many parents have mentioned the impact Brett had on their sons—how he broke down swings, how he helped players see themselves differently, how he believed in their potential before they believed in it themselves.

And beyond all that—Brett drove an hour and a half each way to be at practices. That’s not convenience. That’s commitment. That’s heart.

Brett, thank you for saying yes to this team, for pouring your time, energy, and passion into these boys, and for being such a steady, generous force throughout our journey. You gave the Stars so much—and we’re better because of you.

Coach Andrew Malkin

Andrew didn’t have a son on the team. He didn’t have any reason to volunteer his time other than his love for the game and his belief in the value of showing up for kids. And that’s exactly what he did—he showed up, with a smile, a joke, and a calming presence that made even the tensest situations feel manageable.

He brought balance. While the rest of us paced or stressed, Andrew had a way of lightening the moment. And in doing so, he gave our players the space to breathe, to laugh, and to remember that baseball, at its core, is supposed to be joyful.

His impact wasn’t loud or flashy—but it was felt. He made our dugout better. He made our players more at ease. And he reminded us of the power of simply being there—for the right reasons.

Andrew, thank you for your generosity, your spirit, and your genuine investment in these boys’ lives. You brought heart to this team in a way that will never be forgotten.

Tim McNair

Tim stepped up in a big way this season as our video streamer and GameChanger keeper—two roles that are absolutely vital but often go underappreciated. From capturing the big moments on video to tracking every pitch, every out, and every run, Tim made sure that players, coaches, and families stayed connected to every detail of every game.

Tim, thank you for your time, your consistency, and your willingness to jump in and help.

Josh Peterman

Josh was a constant—a presence in the stands, a supporter at every game, and someone who always stepped in when something needed to get done. Whether it was organizing carpools, helping with gear, lending a hand on the sidelines, or simply offering steady encouragement, Josh was one of the unsung heroes of this team.

And truthfully—when we first started this journey, I didn’t know if we could pull it off. But once Josh bought in, I knew we were on the right path. His belief gave me confidence. His support helped build the foundation. And his quiet leadership helped hold it all together.

Josh, thank you for being all in. You were the glue—steady, supportive, and essential to what the Stars became.

Coach Karl “Pop Pop” Rosh

The only thing better than having my dad by my side as a teenager on the baseball field… is having him by my side as a coach.

For the past three years, I’ve had the privilege of sharing this journey with my father—Coach Pop Pop—and it’s hard to put into words just how meaningful that’s been.

I always knew my dad understood the game of baseball. But over these three seasons, I’ve come to realize just how deeply he sees the game—how he understands people, pace, rhythm, and the nuance that transforms a good team into something more. I’ve learned more about baseball from standing next to him in these dugouts than I have in a lifetime of playing and watching.

But beyond that, I’ve learned even more about life. About patience. Presence. Humor. Timing. And love. The joy, the laughs, the quiet moments of reflection—these three years have been one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received. A time I will always carry with me.

And I’m not the only one who feels that way. The players listened when you spoke. You earned their respect by being steady, wise, and always having their back. You knew exactly what to say when they were up, and even more importantly, when they were down. You pulled them aside for quiet pep talks, reassured them with just a look or a line. You made them feel believed in.

You were our secret weapon—our calming presence in chaos, our wise voice in the noise, our culture carrier. You were our differentiator.

Pop Pop, thank you for being there—not just for me, but for all of us. Coaching beside you has been one of the true honors of my life. This team wouldn’t be what it became without you. And I wouldn’t be the man I am without you either.

Paul Sigala

Paul kept score in the physical baseball scorebook for every single game. In an era of apps and livestreams, Paul was our historian—tracking every pitch, every hit, every substitution with care and precision. And when there was ever a debate about a call or a play—when emotions ran high or memory got fuzzy—Paul was the one we turned to for the truth. He had it in ink.

But Paul didn’t just keep the book. He brought thoughtfulness, insight, and a calm professionalism that grounded the team. And while plenty of teams have a scorekeeper, no other team has a scorekeeper with a PhD in the dugout keeping the official book.

Paul, thank you for your consistency, your quiet leadership, and your contribution to the culture of the Stars. You chronicled this journey one pitch at a time—and we’re incredibly grateful.

Coach Matt “Marty” Smith

Matt Smith, known to all of us as Marty, has been a constant presence, a steady hand, and a source of wisdom, laughter, and support since the beginning. From the very first practice to our final tournament, having Marty around meant I could breathe easier. Why? Because when Marty was on site, I knew we had all bases covered.

Cybersecurity? Covered. Nutrition? Covered. Physical security, dugout integrity, pop-up tent logistics, comedic relief? Covered. There is simply no category Marty doesn’t quietly manage.

But more than any role or task, Marty showed up with selflessness, kindness, and a spirit of generosity that you rarely see. He gave of his time, his energy, and his heart—not for credit, not for recognition—but because he believed in the boys, believed in the team, and believed in the power of showing up.

Marty, thank you for being the unofficial commissioner, the on-site problem solver, the morale booster, and the friend we could all count on. Your impact on the Stars goes beyond what can be measured. This team was stronger, better, and more complete because you were part of it.

Coach Josh Swenson

Josh was there from the very beginning. He didn’t wait to be asked—he volunteered. He saw what we were trying to build and offered his time, energy, and heart to help bring it to life. In those early days, when the Stars were still just an idea, Josh was integral to their formation.

As the program evolved, Josh continued to lead. When we needed someone to help guide Stars White—Josh stepped up and, alongside Coach Fuller, kept the culture alive and strong. He didn’t do it for recognition. He did it because he cared.

And in our final season, when so much was in motion, Josh took over a key role as acting GM. He handled logistics, kept the trains running, and made sure the boys had everything they needed to compete at the highest level. His work behind the scenes allowed the rest of us to stay focused on coaching—and without him, none of it would have run as smoothly as it did.

Josh was selfless in his contribution. He never asked for credit. He just gave—again and again—and we are all better for it.

Josh, thank you for your quiet leadership, your steady presence, and your unwavering belief in what the Stars could be. We couldn’t have done it without you.

Michelle Peterman & Ashley McNair

Note: Michelle and Ashley did not trust any other photographer to take their photo, so they preferred to go photo-less

A huge thank you to Michelle Peterman and Ashley McNair—the talented and generous photographers behind so many of the memories we hold dear.

Over three years you were there—camera in hand, capturing the moments that define what this team truly was. Not just the action shots, but the smiles. The hugs. The dugout glances. The celebrations. The quiet in-between.

So much of our story—the one we’re celebrating tonight—is preserved because of the images you gave us. And years from now, when the boys are older, and these days feel further away, it’ll be your work that brings it all back.

Thank you for giving us a way to keep smiling, keep remembering, and keep the spirit of the Stars alive—frame by frame.

Closing Remarks

Three years ago, this was just an idea.

An experiment.

Could we build a team that was about more than talent? Could we create something rooted in values, in effort, in belief? Could we make room for joy, for second chances, for grit, for growth?

The answer… is sitting right here in this room.

In the players who wore the Stars jersey with pride.

In the parents who showed up in the cold, the wind, the rain, and the heat.

In the coaches who gave their time, their hearts, and their weeknights and weekends.

Together, we didn’t just build a team.

We built a culture.

And that culture—those values, that feeling, that sense of belonging—it doesn’t end tonight.

It lives on in every moment these boys carry with them.

In how they show up in high school.

In how they respond to adversity.

In how they treat their teammates, their classmates, their future friends and families.

The Stars weren’t about playing perfect baseball.

They were about playing with heart.

They were about laughing between games, throwing footballs in the outfield, dancing in the dugout, and picking each other up after a strikeout.

They were about learning how to lose, how to win, and how to do both with character.

And somewhere along the way, in trying to teach that… we were all changed too.

I know I was.

I became a better father. A better friend. A better version of myself—because of what we built together.

And while this chapter is closing, what we’ve created is far from over.

Because culture doesn’t end. It echoes.

It shows up in new dugouts. In new friendships. In future teams. In how these boys lead.

And in how they remember what it felt like to truly be a part of something.

So to the players: carry that with you.

Carry the Stars with you—not as a team you were once on, but as a way you now move through the world.

Carry the effort. The attitude. The belief.

Carry the memory of what it meant to be cheered for by your teammates, trusted by your coaches, and loved unconditionally by your families.

If you remember that… if you live that…

Then the Stars will always keep shining.

Thank you—for the greatest three seasons of my life.

Welcome to this week’s Three Book Thursday.

1. Peak performance
Peak: Secrets from the New Science of Expertise

Summary
We tend to talk about talent like it’s something magical—sprinkled on a lucky few at birth. But Peak challenges that myth with something much more empowering: science.

Anders Ericsson—whose research laid the groundwork for the now-famous “10,000 hour rule”—offers a deeper, more precise look at how people truly become great at what they do. And it’s not about innate ability. It’s about deliberate practice. Focused, structured, feedback-driven work that pushes you just beyond your comfort zone. Repeated. With intention.

This book was a wake-up call. Not just for how we think about skill, but for how we limit ourselves with the stories we tell. Ericsson makes it clear: greatness isn’t reserved for the few. It’s available to the committed.

The biggest takeaway? You’re not stuck. You’re not limited. And you’re not finished.

Growth isn’t about time spent—it’s about how you spend that time. Want to master a skill? Break it down. Get specific. Seek feedback. Practice with purpose. Build mental representations. This is the kind of approach that separates real progress from rote repetition.

But this book isn’t just tactical—it’s philosophical.

It asks a deeper question: What if your potential is not a ceiling, but a starting point?

That’s what stayed with me. That we don’t rise to our expectations—we rise to our training. And that training, with the right focus and feedback, can change everything.

Peak reminds us that expertise is not born. It’s built.

And if you’re willing to build it—brick by brick, day by day—you might just surprise yourself with what you’re capable of.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “When people say Allen was blessed with a beautiful jump shot...Don't underestimate the work I've put in every day. Not some days. Every day.” -Ray Allen

• Insight: Learning isn't a way of reaching one's potential but rather a way of developing it. We can create our own potential.

• Principle: The reason most people don't possess extraordinary physical abilities isn't because they don't have capacity for them, but rather because they're satisfied to live in the comfortable rut of homeostasis and never do the work that is required to get out of it. They live in the world of good enough.

• All of my notes

Author: Anders Ericsson and Robert Pool
Themes: Peak performance, Human psychology, Sports performance

2. Fiction
Bang the Drum Slowly

Summary
Bang the Drum Slowly is one of those books that sneaks up on you. You think you’re stepping into a baseball novel—a story about players, contracts, spring training, and road games—and you are. But like the best sports stories, this one isn’t really about the game. It’s about people. It’s about loyalty. It’s about dignity. And most of all, it’s about how we care for each other in the quiet, complicated spaces that exist outside the spotlight.

The narrator is Henry Wiggen, a star pitcher for the fictional New York Mammoths. His voice is honest and matter-of-fact, but underneath that simplicity is something profound. When Henry finds out that his teammate Bruce Pearson—a slow, often-overlooked catcher—is dying of a terminal illness, he makes a choice. He decides not to let Bruce fade into the background. Instead, he protects him. Advocates for him. Walks beside him during what will be Bruce’s final season.

What unfolds is not a sentimental story, but a deeply human one. The other players don’t know. The coaches don’t know. It’s just Henry, carrying the weight of this secret, choosing again and again to be the kind of teammate we all hope we’d be.

And that’s where this book lands its punch.

It’s not about heroics. It’s about presence.

It’s about standing by someone not because it’s easy, but because it’s right.

It’s about the slow, often unspoken way we show up for each other—not with speeches or grand gestures, but with consistency, kindness, and grace.

Reading this, I thought about all the teams I’ve been part of—on the field, in the hospital, in business, in life. The real test of a team isn’t how it performs when everything’s going well. It’s how it holds itself together when someone is quietly falling apart.

Bang the Drum Slowly is tender, smart, and quietly devastating in all the right ways. It reminds us that greatness isn’t just what you do with your talent. It’s how you use your place in the world to make space for others.

And in the end, it’s a reminder that when the season is over—when the lights go out and the crowd goes home—the thing that lasts is how you made people feel.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “This is a game played by boys in the fields, but it is lived by men in their hearts.”

• Insight: Heroes aren’t made in the big moments—they’re made in the quiet ones when no one’s watching

• Principle: The game goes on, but not everyone who played gets to keep playing

• All of my notes

Author: Mark Harris
Themes: Fiction

3. Personal development
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values

Summary
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance is a classic. But not the kind that gathers dust on a shelf—it’s the kind that lingers, confronts, and transforms you long after you’ve turned the final page.

I picked it up expecting a simple road trip narrative. A father and son on a motorcycle, crossing the American West. And while that’s the frame, what unfolds is something far more intimate and philosophical. This is not just a story—it’s a meditation on life, meaning, quality, and the pursuit of something deeper than success.

Robert Pirsig invites us into a journey of ideas as much as miles. He weaves between memories, mechanics, and metaphysics, all while introducing one of the most provocative questions I’ve encountered in a book: What does it mean to live with Quality?

This isn’t “self-help.” It’s not neat or linear. At times, it’s dense, even maddening. But that’s the brilliance. Pirsig doesn’t give answers—he gives frameworks. He dismantles the divide between logic and emotion, science and art, technology and humanity, and shows us that true wisdom lives in the tension between them.

What makes Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance timeless is how it challenges us to examine our relationship with the world. How we build. How we fix. How we care. Whether it’s a motorcycle, a relationship, a career, or our own internal landscape—the approach matters.

And in that sense, the motorcycle is a metaphor for everything.

This book asks you to slow down. To get your hands dirty. To pay attention to the systems behind the surface. And most of all—to pursue a kind of excellence that isn’t about perfection, but about presence.

It’s not an easy read. But it’s one of the most important ones.

For anyone trying to bridge the gap between doing and being, building and becoming, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance is more than a book. It’s a companion for the road ahead.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “The truth knocks on the door and you say, “Go away, I’m looking for the truth,” and so it goes away”

• Insight: You look at where you’re going and where you are and it never makes sense, but then you look back at where you’ve been and a pattern seems to emerge.

• Principle: Peace of mind produces right values, right values produce right thoughts, right thoughts produce right actions.

• All of my notes

Author: Robert M. Pirsig
Themes: Personal development, Philosophy, Living a full life

The word that kept surfacing this week was: believe.

It was stitched into every moment of the Salt Lake Stars banquet. Not in bold declarations—but in the quieter ways that mattered more. A boy who believed he could rise to the moment. A coach who believed in a player before the player believed in himself. A group of teammates who believed in something bigger than wins and losses.

And that belief didn’t end with the final game.

It showed up again in Peak—the science behind how belief, paired with deliberate practice, reshapes potential. It echoed in Bang the Drum Slowly—in how belief can carry a teammate when words fall short. And it was reflected in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance—in the hard-earned belief that excellence isn’t perfection, but care.

The takeaway?

You don’t need certainty to move forward.

You just need belief.

In effort.

In growth.

In one another.

And when belief is shared—between teammates, families, friends—that’s when it becomes something even greater:

It becomes a legacy.

Always ❤️📚💡

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

Three years ago, I started an experiment.

Not in a lab or an office—but on a ballfield in Salt Lake City, Utah.

At the time, I thought I was starting a baseball team.

I didn’t realize I was starting something that would change my life.

We had just moved from Michigan, where my son Rhys had played in a small-town baseball league—the kind I grew up in. Local fields. Neighborhood kids. A rhythm that felt honest, joyful, and real.

When we landed in Salt Lake City, Rhys joined a new team. But something felt off. The coaches barked. The energy felt transactional. Players weren’t being developed. The game that had brought us so much joy started to feel heavy.

I kept complaining in my head. Until one day, my friend back in Michigan, Andrew Rees, said, “Why don’t you stop talking about it—and build something better?”

So I did.

I called it the Salt Lake Stars.

But this wasn’t just about baseball. It was about values. About testing a theory I’d carried with me from the emergency room, to the days of building a startup, to every team I’ve ever led:

That culture drives everything.

That if you can build confidence, if you can instill belief, if you can teach kids to trust each other and themselves—the results will take care of themselves.

And they did.

Over three years, the Stars went from an unknown team to one of the most successful youth baseball programs in the state. We won more than 170 games (174-56-7), took home fifteen championship trophies from Utah to Omaha, and played in some of the biggest youth tournaments in the country.

But that’s not what this story is about.

Because as powerful as those wins were, as incredible as that final walk-off hit in Omaha felt—what I’ll remember most is something more impactful. Something deeper.

What I’ll remember is the community we built.

The trust.

The laughter.

The moments between moments.

The huddles after losses. The goldfish reminders after errors. The late-night team dinners. The way the boys began to carry themselves—not just as ballplayers, but as people.

When I created the team logo (beautifully brought to life by Stephen Deutsch), I chose three stars—each one rising, each one slightly larger than the last. It was meant to symbolize growth, forward motion, and the journey from age 12 to 13 to 14—before launching into high school and everything beyond.

But looking back now, I see something I didn’t expect.

Those three stars weren’t just about the kids.

They were about me.

One star for each year I got to spend doing something that mattered. One star for the way this team changed me—made me a better father, a better friend, a better leader. One star for all the light they brought into my life.

The Stars gave me more than I ever gave them.

They gave me time with my father—precious, unexpected, beautiful time I’ll never forget. They gave me the chance to rekindle a childhood friendship with Dave Gorner, my teammate since nursery school, who flew across the country to coach by my side. They gave me a deeper bond with my son, watching him grow—not just as a player, but as a leader.

They gave me roots in a place that once felt unfamiliar.

And they gave me purpose.

Because that’s the thing about service—when you show up for others, you often find what’s been missing in yourself.

The experiment is over now. The boys are heading to high school. And I find myself at the end of something that became far more than a baseball team.

I started out building a team for them.

But in the end, they built something for me.

They built a place where I belonged.

A place where joy was shared, values were lived, and growth wasn’t just measured in batting averages—but in belief, in effort, in how loudly the dugout cheered for one another.

They reminded me that real success isn’t in what you accumulate—it’s in what you give.

Your time. Your presence. Your belief in someone else.

I thought I was building a team to teach boys how to compete.

Turns out, they were teaching me how to love something deeply again.

To care. To lead. To lose and still laugh. To win and still be humble. To show up—fully, fiercely, and without keeping score.

That’s what I’ll carry now.

Not the trophies. Not the stats.

But the way this team made me feel alive.

The Salt Lake Stars are moving on.

But the best parts of them—the heart, the fire, the joy—will always stay with me.

And I hope, wherever they go, that feeling stays with them too.

That real confidence is forged through effort, tested by failure, and lifted by attitude.

That belief—in yourself and in each other—is the most powerful thing we can pass on.

And that sometimes, the best thing you’ll ever build… builds you right back.

Always ❤️📚💡

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

This past week, I found myself in Omaha, Nebraska, surrounded by some of the people I love most—my son, my father, my nephew, my childhood friend, and the 14U baseball team I coach, the Salt Lake Stars.

We were there for the Omaha Slumpbuster, one of the largest youth baseball tournaments in the country, held in tandem with the College World Series.

Last year, we came as 13-year-olds and somehow left with a championship trophy. This year, we came back to see if lightning might strike twice.

It did.

In the final inning of the title game, with one out and the score tied, one of our players delivered a walk-off hit. The bench emptied. The boys screamed. Parents wept. And I stood there in the dugout, watching it all—knowing this was a moment they’d carry for the rest of their lives.

It was one of the most joyful, unforgettable wins I’ve ever been part of.

And yet, just a day earlier, something else happened—something quieter, but equally lasting.

I was walking down the street with my father when I saw someone in the corner of my eye. A face from another life. A flash of familiarity sharpened by time.

Matt Schilling.

I hadn’t seen him in over 35 years.

When I was a freshman at Hightstown High School, Matt was a senior—and a legend. Varsity goalkeeper in soccer. Wing in ice hockey. Infielder in baseball. He wasn’t just good—he was that guy. Fast, fearless, clutch. The kind of athlete that other kids talked about in awe.

But what made Matt different wasn’t just what he did on the field. It was how he carried himself off of it.

He noticed people. He encouraged the younger players. He gave feedback, not just high-fives. He made you feel seen when you didn’t even know you were looking to be seen. He was someone you wanted to be like—not just in how he played, but in how he made others feel.

I followed in his footsteps. When he graduated, I became the varsity goalkeeper. I played wing in ice hockey. I manned the infield in baseball. I didn’t reach his level of greatness, but I tried to match his integrity.

And now, there we were—two former teammates, standing on a sidewalk in Omaha. Both of us coaches. Both of us older, grayer, balder, a little heavier around the edges, but somehow, instantly back in rhythm.

Matt was there as the assistant coach of Coastal Carolina’s baseball team—a team that has swept through Omaha and is now preparing for the championship round.

We started talking—about coaching, about family, about the weird and beautiful way baseball ties time together. Then Matt said something I didn’t expect.

“You remember that game during my senior year? The state tournament? I needed a new pair of goalie gloves. You ran to my house and brought me the backup pair.”

And just like that, the memory came flooding back.

He had asked me—me, a freshman—to run to his house and grab the gloves. It felt like the most important job in the world. I sprinted like the game depended on it. Because for a few minutes, it did.

And somehow, that was the memory he carried all these years.

Not a win. Not a stat. Not a goal.

But a favor.

A moment of trust.

A simple gesture that mattered to him, enough to hold onto for more than three decades.

I had forgotten it entirely. But he hadn’t.

And it made me think—about presence, about the stories we carry, and the quiet ways we matter to one another.

We don’t always get to choose which moments will stick with others.

But we do get to choose how we show up in them.

And sometimes, the smallest things—a run across town, a pair of gloves, the feeling of being needed—can echo longer than we ever expect.

That day, Matt handed me a job. Small on the surface, but huge to me. And in doing so, he gave me something far more powerful: the chance to feel useful.

I carried his gloves.

He carried that moment.

Now, I carry this story.

So the next time you’re given a small task, a quiet role, a behind-the-scenes moment—

Do it well.

Be dependable. Be kind. Be someone who runs hard for someone else.

Because you never know which moments will echo for years.

And sometimes, the glove you return becomes the memory that endures.

Welcome to this week’s Three Book Thursday.

P.S. Thank you Aunt Edie for the idea to write this story.

1. Memoir
The Motorcycle Diaries: Notes on a Latin American Journey

Summary
There was a stretch of time—late in college and into medical school—when I fell into a full-on Che Guevara phase. Not the political iconography, but the complexity of the man. The contradictions. The intensity. The journey. I didn’t know what to make of him entirely, but I was drawn to the story. Especially this part of it—before the speeches, before the revolution, before the legend.

The Motorcycle Diaries is that story. A raw, beautifully written account of a young Ernesto Guevara, a 23-year-old medical student who set off with a friend on a motorcycle journey across Latin America. He wasn’t Che yet—he was just a curious kid with a stethoscope, a journal, and a desire to see what was out there.

And what he saw changed everything.

Through dusty roads, remote villages, mining towns, leper colonies, and border crossings, he witnessed deep poverty, injustice, and resilience. He met people who had nothing but still offered everything. He began to understand suffering not as a clinical case, but as a human reality—something that medicine alone couldn’t fix. And as the miles added up, so did the questions. About inequality. About purpose. About what it means to truly live with—and for—others.

This isn’t a manifesto. It’s a coming-of-age story. It’s about awakening. It’s about looking at the world and deciding you can’t unsee it. That maybe the real journey isn’t across a continent—but into a deeper version of yourself.

Reading it reminded me of why we travel. Why we ask hard questions. Why we leave comfort and routine and head toward the unknown—not because it’s easy, but because it’s real.

Yes, Che is a complicated figure. He provokes strong opinions. But this book—the early chapter of his life—isn’t about hero worship. It’s about paying attention. It’s about letting the world change you so you can figure out how to change it back.

There’s also a movie version of The Motorcycle Diaries–it’s worth the watch. It captures the heart of the story—the beauty, the tension, the transformation. But the book is where you feel it most. The pages are full of dust and hunger and laughter and fire.

And if you’re in a season of searching—if you’re questioning your next step or wondering how to make your life matter—this might be the book you need right now.

Because sometimes, it’s not the path that changes. It’s you.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “Solidarity is learned through footsteps, not words.”

• Insight: Each time I take a step, I am closer to a different version of myself.

• Principle: Let the world change you, and you can change the world

• All of my notes

Author: Ernesto Che Guevara
Themes: Memoir

2. History
Beethoven's Hair: An Extraordinary Historical Odyssey and a Scientific Mystery Solved

Summary
Some stories find you when you’re not looking. Beethoven’s Hair was one of those for me.

It starts with a lock of hair—cut from Beethoven’s head after his death in 1827. An object that, on its surface, seems small. Simple. A relic for a display case. But what unfolds in Russell Martin’s hands is anything but small. It’s sweeping, layered, unexpected. This book is about history, yes—but it’s also about legacy, science, pain, and the enduring mysteries that live inside genius.

The hair changes hands. It crosses borders. It survives war. It becomes a clue, a key, a question mark. And as it moves through time—from Beethoven’s Vienna to Nazi-occupied Europe to a modern-day laboratory—the story expands. Through careful analysis, researchers uncover shocking medical insight that reframes how we understand Beethoven’s struggles—his deafness, his torment, and perhaps even his temperament.

But what makes this book so powerful isn’t just the science or the sleuthing. It’s what it reminds us about the human condition.

That greatness often coexists with suffering.

That what we leave behind may one day answer questions we never thought to ask.

And that sometimes, in tracing the physical remnants of a life, we find emotional truths that speak across centuries.

This is a book about Beethoven—but it’s also about us. About how we search for meaning in artifacts. About how pain and brilliance aren’t mutually exclusive. About how something as fragile as a strand of hair can carry stories that outlast empires.

If you’ve ever wondered how history breathes—how art, illness, and identity weave together in one remarkable life—Beethoven’s Hair will leave a mark.

It did for me.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “History isn’t just in books—it’s alive in fragments, waiting to speak.”

• Insight: The past isn’t distant; it’s carried forward in strands, echoes, and questions.

• Principle: Unraveling history isn’t only about the past—it’s about shaping our future understanding of ourselves.

• All of my notes

Author: Russell Martin
Themes: History, Music

3. Patient Care
Intern

Summary
Intern by Doctor X is the kind of book that punches you in the gut—quietly, precisely, and without warning.

It’s raw. Stark. Unapologetically honest.

Written under a pseudonym in the 1960s, Intern chronicles one year in the life of a young medical intern at a major urban hospital. No polish. No heroics. Just the unfiltered truth of what it feels like to step into the white coat for the first time, exhausted, terrified, and underprepared.

Reading it, I was taken back to my own days as a trainee—when your name barely registers, your judgment is shaky at best, and your confidence swings wildly between hope and collapse. The book doesn’t try to make you feel better about those days. It just shows them to you. Night shifts that blur into each other. Patients who die unexpectedly. Moments of brilliance and moments of shame. It’s all here.

But what makes Intern linger isn’t just the medicine. It’s the humanity.

Doctor X writes with a detachment that somehow heightens the emotion. You feel the toll—the physical decay, the emotional numbness, the ethical erosion that creeps in when you’re too tired to care and too afraid to admit it. And yet, beneath that exhaustion, there’s a pulse of something real: the desire to serve. To help. To get it right, even when everything’s going wrong.

This book is a reminder that behind every doctor is a student who barely survived their training. Who was once overwhelmed by the weight of it all. And who learned, sometimes the hard way, how to live with the consequences of their choices.

For anyone in medicine, this book is a mirror. For those outside of it, it’s a rare invitation inside.

And for all of us—doctors, leaders, parents, creators—it’s a meditation on what it means to hold responsibility before you feel ready. To act in the midst of fear. To grow not by getting it right, but by showing up again after getting it wrong.

Intern doesn’t wrap things up neatly. That’s not its job.

Its job is to show us what it means to be human in a place where perfection is demanded but impossible.

And somehow, that’s what makes it so inspiring.

Author: Doctor X
Themes: Patient care, Residency training, Medical school

We think it’s the big moments that define us—the wins, the speeches, the breakthroughs. But often, it’s the unnoticed ones that leave the deepest mark.

A high school freshman running a pair of goalie gloves across town. A medical student waking up to the pain that numbers can’t explain. A strand of hair revealing a truth no one saw coming. A dusty road in Latin America that shifts a young man’s view of the world forever.

What ties them together isn’t grandeur. It’s presence. Being there, fully. Doing the thing that seems small but matters. Staying curious when it would be easier to look away. Choosing to serve even when you’re unsure of yourself.

This week’s stories remind us that significance doesn’t announce itself in the moment. It shows up later—in memory, in meaning, in the way someone tells your story years down the road.

So keep showing up. Pay attention. Do the quiet thing well.

Because one day, it might be the only part they remember. And it just might be the part that mattered most.

Always ❤️📚💡

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

• If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

• Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

• Or, do both!

It’s been more than 30 years since I last walked the halls of Hightstown High School.

Three decades since the morning bell signaled the start of another day filled with laughter, awkwardness, quiet ambitions, and endless energy. Some days were joyous, others full of teenage confusion. Most were just chaotic in the way only high school can be.

Back then, my life revolved around sports. Fall meant soccer, winter was for ice hockey, and spring—always—was baseball. My teammates were my closest friends, and nearly every day after school, we stayed long after the final bell, chasing greatness on whatever field or rink we could find. Wins and losses came and went, but what remained was the feeling of being part of something—of giving your best effort in pursuit of a common goal. That’s what high school was for me: team, routine, resilience, and the beginning of becoming.

Of course, there were bumps along the way—social missteps, academic pressure, the ever-present maze of teenage identity. Girls, grades, friendships, and futures. And yes, some unforgettable characters. It was New Jersey in the ’80/90s—we even had a smoking porch outside the cafeteria. Hightstown was nothing if not colorful.

By the end of senior year, I was ready to leave it all behind. I chose the University of Wisconsin-Madison, a school in a state I had never even looked at on a map. I wanted something different, a clean break. But within months, I found myself missing it all—the streets of my hometown, the rhythm of familiarity, the friends who knew me before I knew myself.

That’s the thing about the places that shape us: we never really leave them. They stay tucked inside, even as the years stretch on. Faces blur, names fade, and yet—some part of you is still walking those halls.

Two nights ago, I felt it again.

At the Hightstown High School Sports Banquet, something I never could have imagined back in 1993 took place: The inaugural Rosh Legacy Award was given to two student-athletes—one from the softball team and one from baseball. The award isn’t about stats or medals. It’s about impact. It’s about grit, leadership, integrity, and team-first commitment. It’s about how you make people feel, how you lift others up, and how you carry yourself when no one’s watching.

I wasn’t there in person. But my father was—sitting in the audience. And one of my best friends from childhood, David Gorner—the same kid I met in nursery school, the same teammate I battled with on baseball fields for over a decade—stood on stage and read the words we wrote together. He honored two remarkable athletes who now carry the torch.

Their names—Kady Olsen and Michael Guarino—are the first to be etched into the Rosh Legacy Award. But what moved me most was realizing that this isn’t about what I left behind. It’s about what they carry forward.

Legacy isn’t a statue or a speech. It’s not something you hand down like an old glove or a folded jersey. Legacy is a motion. A set of values put into practice, passed hand to hand, through effort, through example. You live it first. Then you step aside. And if you’ve done it right, someone else picks it up—and carries it farther than you ever could.

That’s what last night meant to me. That even from 2,000 miles away, something I care deeply about—grit, leadership, commitment—found a way to keep going. That in an auditorium I haven’t stepped inside in over thirty years, surrounded by faces I may never meet, a seed I planted took root.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the idea of impact. How we can influence others not by preaching, but by living. Not by controlling, but by modeling. Not by staying, but by preparing others to go.

The Rosh Legacy Award is just a small gesture. But it’s one that honors a bigger idea: that your life becomes most meaningful when you make it about more than just yourself.

Here is Coach David Gorner, the natural, announcing the Rosh Legacy Award at the annual Hightstown High School Senior Awards Night. He crushes it.

Welcome to this week’s Three Book Thursday.

P.S. Happy Birthday Dad

P.P.S Thank you Rhys Rosh for encouraging me to write this story

1. Biography
The Book of Charlie: Wisdom from the Remarkable American Life of a 109-Year-Old Man

Summary
Some books feel like a long conversation with someone who’s lived through everything—and come out wiser, lighter, and more grounded on the other side.

The Book of Charlie is exactly that.

David Von Drehle introduces us to Charlie White, his neighbor in Kansas City, who, by the time they met, was already past 100 years old. But don’t let the number fool you. Charlie wasn’t coasting into old age—he was living. Fully. Curiously. With grace and grit and a deep well of perspective.

Over the course of their friendship, Von Drehle unearthed a life that reads like fiction: orphaned at 6, medical school in the midst of the Great Depression, Hollywood house calls in the golden age of film, World War II, deep personal losses, reinventions, risks, and wisdom gathered across ten decades. Charlie didn’t just live through history—he lived through change. And he never stopped evolving.

What makes this book so powerful isn’t just the extraordinary life story—it’s the posture Charlie held toward life itself.

He stayed open. He adapted. He kept his sense of humor. He remained rooted in principle but was never bitter. He believed that a meaningful life wasn’t defined by status or accomplishment, but by the ability to grow, to love, to endure, and to keep going.

Reading it reminded me that wisdom doesn’t come from age alone—it comes from how you live through your years. Charlie turned tragedy into compassion, discipline into freedom, and curiosity into longevity. For anyone navigating uncertainty, change, or simply trying to stay connected to what really matters, Charlie’s story is a quiet reminder that joy, strength, and purpose don’t retire with age. They evolve. If we let them.

This is a book to slow down with. To reflect alongside. To remember what kind of legacy you want to leave—not just in terms of what you did, but in who you were while you were doing it.

And Charlie? He was the kind of person we should all hope to become.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “Love the hand that fate deals you and play it as your own.” -Marcus Aurelius.

• Insight: Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight, or any experience that reveals the human spirit.

• Principle: Charlie understood that we don't live in the world's future; we live in our own present moment, inside the much smaller zone of our actions and our own will. We can't control tomorrow: that's realism. But optimism teaches that we can watch for tomorrow, seek to understand it, and leap when the moment arrives to grasp it–perhaps even to shape it.

• All of my notes

Author: David Von Drehle
Themes: Biography, On living and dying, Living a full life

2. Patient care
Becoming a Doctor: A Journey of Initiation in Medical School

Summary
Becoming a Doctor: A Journey of Initiation in Medical School isn’t just a memoir—it’s a mirror. A mirror held up to the raw, unfiltered transformation that happens when someone decides to dedicate their life to medicine.

I read this book while in graduate school at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. At the time, I was straddling two worlds: one foot still in the lab, the other beginning to step toward the clinic. I didn’t have a clear plan yet—but I had a longing. A sense that maybe medicine was the path. This book lit the fire. It didn’t glamorize the profession. It didn’t promise certainty. But it showed me, with brutal honesty and breathtaking clarity, what it felt like to become a doctor. And that made all the difference.

Melvin Konner came to medical school with a background in anthropology—and that lens makes this book different from any other memoir about training in medicine. He sees things most students don’t. He questions rituals others accept. He pays attention to what we often overlook: the subtle, the human, the spiritual. Through each rotation—pediatrics, surgery, psychiatry—Konner doesn’t just observe the medicine. He observes the people behind it. The mentors who shape him. The systems that constrain him. The moments that almost break him.

But what makes this book unforgettable is its honesty. It’s a chronicle of becoming—not just a doctor, but a person. A person who is asked to witness suffering, to make impossible decisions, to carry the weight of other people’s lives—and still find their own center. There are no shortcuts here. No polished narrative. Just the slow, often painful process of learning how to think like a physician and feel like a human being at the same time.

This book was my compass. It clarified that medicine was not about being perfect—it was about being present. About showing up when things are hard. About learning to listen, to lead, to care—and to keep caring even when you’re tired.

For anyone on the path to medicine—or even just considering it—Becoming a Doctor will challenge and affirm you in equal measure. And for those long past their training, it’s a beautiful reminder of why we chose this life in the first place.

Because becoming a doctor isn’t a title. It’s a lifelong process of becoming.

And for me, it all started with this book.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “At the conclusion of all our studies we must try once again to experience the human soul as soul, and not just as a buzz of bioelectricity; the human will as will, and not just a surge of hormones; the human heart not as a fibrous, sticky pump, but as the metaphoric organ of understanding.”

• Insight: The black widow spider and the praying mantis have found a way to have their males and eat them, too.

• Principle: A great change in life is like a cold bath in winter—we all hesitate at the first plunge.

• All of my notes

Author: Melvin Konner
Themes: Patient care, Medical school, Residency, Medicine

3. Biography
Lincoln The Unknown

Summary
Lincoln the Unknown surprised me.

I picked it up with mild curiosity—more of a historical detour than a deliberate destination. A book from the 1930s? Written by Dale Carnegie, better known for How to Win Friends and Influence People? I wasn’t expecting much.

But by the end, I was moved. Genuinely. Deeply.

This book taught me more about Abraham Lincoln—and the Civil War era—than I could’ve anticipated. Not just the big, sweeping history, but the human side. The inner world. The quiet suffering. The slow formation of a man who would go on to carry the weight of a fractured nation on his shoulders.

Carnegie doesn’t write like a historian. He writes like a storyteller. And what he gives us in Lincoln the Unknown is not the icon, not the monument, but the man. A man who endured heartbreak after heartbreak. A man who grew up with almost nothing. Who lost his mother young, who fought through crippling self-doubt, depression, and failure—and still kept going. Still kept believing in something bigger than himself.

Reading this made me realize how little I actually knew about Lincoln, beyond the basics. And more than that, it sparked something in me. It made me want to read more about the Civil War. About leadership in times of darkness. About how character is formed not in comfort, but in pain.

This isn’t a textbook. It’s not trying to cover everything. It’s from a different time—yes, written with the tone and framing of the 1930s—but the heart of it is timeless. It shows us Lincoln not as a legend, but as a human being. And somehow, that makes his legacy feel even more profound.

For anyone who enjoys history—or wants to feel closer to one of the most important figures in American life—this is an outstanding read. Short. Accessible. Strangely intimate.

Lincoln the Unknown doesn’t just tell you about a president.

It reminds you of what’s possible when a person decides to keep showing up, even when everything hurts.

Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle

• Quote: “The little advance I now have upon this store of education, I have picked up from time to time under the pressure of necessity.”

• Insight: When I do good, I feel good, when I do bad, I feel bad, and that's my religion.

• Principle: One of the most valuable assets any man can have, even from a university education: a love of knowledge and a thirst for learning.

• All of my notes

Author: Dale Carnegie
Themes: Biography, History

Legacy doesn’t begin when we’re gone. It begins with how we show up—right now.

Charlie White lived 109 years, but what made his life extraordinary wasn’t its length. It was how fully he stayed present to its lessons. Melvin Konner became a doctor not through the rituals of training, but by confronting the weight and wonder of what it means to care. And Abraham Lincoln—lonely, self-taught, haunted by grief—led not because he was fearless, but because he dared to carry the fear with integrity.

Three very different men. Three legacies shaped not by grand gestures, but by showing up, again and again, with purpose.

And maybe that’s the through line—what connects the auditorium in Hightstown to the White House to the trauma bay.

Legacy is not a moment. It’s a practice.

It’s the daily choice to lead with character, to stay curious, to lift others up, even when no one’s watching. It’s realizing that you don’t need to be extraordinary to leave something lasting. You just need to be consistent in what you value, in how you serve, and in who you become.

We don’t get to choose the hand we’re dealt. But we do get to play it with intention.

And that, more than anything else, is how we’re remembered.

Always ❤️📚💡

Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?

1. If you find value here, please support the newsletter.

Donate to 3BT

1. Or,

2. Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.

Share Three Book Thursday

1. Or, do both!