You've already forgotten a moment someone else will never forget

Football (soccer) was the most important way of socialising when I was a kid growing up in Belgrade. If you were a useful player, you had a place in the pack. It gave you status among the other kids.

One beautiful, sunny day, a bunch of us gathered in front of our building to play football. The building was new, so most of us had only recently met.

Marko, who later became my best friend for life, and I were the youngest kids, maybe 10 or so. Everyone else was three to five years older. At that age, that’s a huge physical and mental difference.

Obviously, we got picked last. We were told to either play in goal or stay back - basically try not to screw up too much. If we did, an older kid would yell at us or even punch us. The streets of Belgrade were that way at the time - learning to stand up for yourself without escalating a fight with someone twice your size. Valuable life lesson, I guess.

About an hour into the game, a new guy, Pedja, came along to play with us. He was four years older than me. We had to reshuffle the teams, and for some reason he picked both Marko and me for his team. He was really good, probably the best on the pitch that day.

I remember having the ball right in front of the goal. I hesitated too long, played a late, inaccurate pass, and the ball went out of bounds. Chance squandered. I was ready to be yelled at.

Instead, Pedja said: “It’s OK. Next time, just raise your head and you’ll see me. Pass quicker. Let’s get back now.”

That was it.

Each time one of us smaller kids made a mistake, he would encourage us and give us a quick piece of advice. He was talking to us constantly, and we started talking to each other. It was a completely different way to play the game. I felt valued and motivated.

From then on, Marko and I always wanted to be on Pedja’s team. We became lifelong friends. And he taught me one of the first leadership lessons of my life, on the streets of Belgrade, without even knowing it.

I want to share key learnings from this seemingly small experience. And also, let's explore how an ordinary moment for you can be a defining moment for someone else 👇

What Pedja gave me

Playing with Pedja built my confidence. I started making decisions and taking risks (practicing agency), instead of constantly looking to the older kids for approval (dependency on authority).

He still corrected my mistakes. But his response gave me something to do with them. Lift your head. Look. Pass sooner. Try again.

There was room to learn while still being part of the game.

That is how I began to experience agency: trusting that I could make a choice, contribute, and learn from what happened.

Research from Harvard found a similar thing in hospitals. The nursing teams with the best leadership reported more medication errors than the weaker teams. At first, it looked like the "best teams" were making the most mistakes. They weren't. They felt safe enough to admit their mistakes, so they could fix them and learn from them. When mistakes get punished, they don't go away. They go quiet and unresolved.

Pedja's words also carried a second message: I believe you can do this. That message matters more than we think.

In a study of seventh-grade students, teachers returned essays with critical comments. Some students also received a note saying the teacher held them to a high standard and believed they could meet it. Those students were more likely to revise their essays and improve.

Feedback lands quite differently when those receiving it trust you and see that you trust them and believe in their capacity to improve.

Same game, different stakes

For us younger kids, even being allowed to play with the older kids was a big deal. For most of the older kids, it was just another game.

An ordinary moment for you can be a defining moment for someone with less power.

Think about a meeting you have this week. You may have been in hundreds like it. For an intern, a new hire, or a colleague stepping into a bigger role, it might be their first chance to contribute in front of that group, on that level.

You might barely remember the meeting afterward. They may remember whether you invited them in, what happened when they hesitated, and whether they got another chance after making a mistake.

Why it matters most in uncertain times

The goal of this issue today is to make you aware of these seemingly small moments, how much they can matter to the people around you, especially if you have power or a title, and how your everyday habits affect others more than you think. Becoming aware of this sharpens your leadership reflex.

This matters even more when you, your team or your organisation are going through a transition or facing a big challenge (high levels of uncertainty). In those moments, even more of what we do is driven by the leadership instincts we have already built. Under pressure, we tend to stop thinking things through and fall back on what we always do. At the same time, the people with less power around you are watching you even more closely, trying to read what the change means for them.

If you're not in the middle of a high-uncertainty situation right now, good. Habits are built in more stable times, so that when the challenge hits, you're ready.

✨ Adventure of the week

Look at your next meeting, event, presentation, or game. Who might have more at stake in that moment than you do?

Pick one person and do something concrete:

• Invite them to contribute.
• Listen to their answer without rushing to take over.
• If they make a mistake, give them something useful to try next.
• Make sure they get another chance.

You don’t have to turn the moment into a big leadership exercise. Pedja didn’t. He just paid attention to two younger kids on his team and changed how we experienced the game.

I leave you with this question: Who is trying to find their place in this game, and what will my response teach them?

Until next time, keep evolving ✊