EXPERIENCE 002
Before the Numbers Could Tell the Story
Before the Numbers Could Tell the Story
Before the Numbers Could Tell the Story
Growth Officer & Embedded Strategy Consultant
Growth Officer & Embedded Strategy Consultant
Growth Officer & Embedded Strategy Consultant
A company doesn’t always need more data to become investable. Sometimes it needs someone to find the coherence that was already sitting inside it, unorganized.
A company doesn’t always need more data to become investable. Sometimes it needs someone to find the coherence that was already sitting inside it, unorganized.
A company doesn’t always need more data to become investable. Sometimes it needs someone to find the coherence that was already sitting inside it, unorganized.
Subi had already been turned down once before I joined. Digital Sandbox, a Kansas City nonprofit that runs cohorts and awards funding to early-stage companies, had passed on the company — a rejection that, on its face, was about the product not being ready. I came in afterward as an embedded growth consultant, effectively a fractional Chief Growth Officer, with a fairly specific mandate: figure out why investors weren’t responding, and fix it.
The product itself was easy enough to describe. It helped people find others nearby who wanted to play the same sport or activity. That description explained the mechanics, but it didn’t explain why this particular company deserved outside capital. Pickup sports apps, leagues, clubs, and informal group chats built around already knowing enough people to text when you wanted to play weren’t in short supply, and Subi didn’t have a matching algorithm meaningfully better than anyone else’s, or the user density yet to make games easy to find everywhere. There was no spreadsheet I could point to and say there, that’s why we win — which meant the rejection wasn’t really about a missing feature. It was about the company not yet having a coherent argument for itself.
So I started working the problem from several directions at once. I pushed to formalize the product roadmap around actual milestones instead of an open-ended feature list, tightened feature selection down to what the company could credibly ship and defend, and began rebuilding the language the company used to describe itself — because the existing framing sat too close to the rest of its category, all the products built around athletic identity, competition, and performance. That framing works for people who already see themselves as athletes. I was more interested in the people standing at the edge of that identity: people who wanted to play but didn’t have anyone to call, people who’d just moved to a new city, people whose social circles had scattered, people who wanted to try something new but didn’t want to walk into an established group alone. The value was never really about making people better at a sport. It was about making it easier for them to play at all — and once I could see that clearly, the roadmap, the market focus, and the pitch itself all had something real to organize around instead of pulling in different directions.
The founder later found the 4Impact program and wanted to apply, and the application became the forcing function that pulled all of that work into one argument. An application like that doesn’t let a company hide behind a vague description of what the product does — it demands a real answer to who it’s for, what problem it solves, and why it matters. By that point I’d already done the underlying work; the application was where it had to become airtight. The founder’s own story anchored it — searching field to field for a pickup soccer game and getting turned away, an experience that was his and stayed his throughout. My job was building the rest of the argument around it: that people lose social circles, that participation quietly depends on already knowing the right people, and that the sport was really just the shared reason for two strangers to show up in the same place. That synthesis, the roadmap discipline behind it, and the investor-facing narrative were mine to build. The application gave the strategy a deadline. It didn’t invent the strategy.
The company was accepted into 4Impact and won funding through the program — a direct reversal of the Digital Sandbox outcome, on largely the same underlying product, now organized around a coherent argument instead of a feature list. The same month I left the company, Subi was accepted into the Apple App Store, the culmination of the roadmap work that had been the other half of the mandate the whole time. I wasn’t there for whatever came after that, so I won’t claim the longer funding story as something that happened on my watch. What I can say is that the company went from being turned down to being funded and shipped, in the same stretch of months I was responsible for making it investable — and that a company doesn’t always need new data to become fundable. Sometimes it needs someone to find and organize the argument that was already sitting inside the product, waiting to be told correctly.
Subi had already been turned down once before I joined. Digital Sandbox, a Kansas City nonprofit that runs cohorts and awards funding to early-stage companies, had passed on the company — a rejection that, on its face, was about the product not being ready. I came in afterward as an embedded growth consultant, effectively a fractional Chief Growth Officer, with a fairly specific mandate: figure out why investors weren’t responding, and fix it.
The product itself was easy enough to describe. It helped people find others nearby who wanted to play the same sport or activity. That description explained the mechanics, but it didn’t explain why this particular company deserved outside capital. Pickup sports apps, leagues, clubs, and informal group chats built around already knowing enough people to text when you wanted to play weren’t in short supply, and Subi didn’t have a matching algorithm meaningfully better than anyone else’s, or the user density yet to make games easy to find everywhere. There was no spreadsheet I could point to and say there, that’s why we win — which meant the rejection wasn’t really about a missing feature. It was about the company not yet having a coherent argument for itself.
So I started working the problem from several directions at once. I pushed to formalize the product roadmap around actual milestones instead of an open-ended feature list, tightened feature selection down to what the company could credibly ship and defend, and began rebuilding the language the company used to describe itself — because the existing framing sat too close to the rest of its category, all the products built around athletic identity, competition, and performance. That framing works for people who already see themselves as athletes. I was more interested in the people standing at the edge of that identity: people who wanted to play but didn’t have anyone to call, people who’d just moved to a new city, people whose social circles had scattered, people who wanted to try something new but didn’t want to walk into an established group alone. The value was never really about making people better at a sport. It was about making it easier for them to play at all — and once I could see that clearly, the roadmap, the market focus, and the pitch itself all had something real to organize around instead of pulling in different directions.
The founder later found the 4Impact program and wanted to apply, and the application became the forcing function that pulled all of that work into one argument. An application like that doesn’t let a company hide behind a vague description of what the product does — it demands a real answer to who it’s for, what problem it solves, and why it matters. By that point I’d already done the underlying work; the application was where it had to become airtight. The founder’s own story anchored it — searching field to field for a pickup soccer game and getting turned away, an experience that was his and stayed his throughout. My job was building the rest of the argument around it: that people lose social circles, that participation quietly depends on already knowing the right people, and that the sport was really just the shared reason for two strangers to show up in the same place. That synthesis, the roadmap discipline behind it, and the investor-facing narrative were mine to build. The application gave the strategy a deadline. It didn’t invent the strategy.
The company was accepted into 4Impact and won funding through the program — a direct reversal of the Digital Sandbox outcome, on largely the same underlying product, now organized around a coherent argument instead of a feature list. The same month I left the company, Subi was accepted into the Apple App Store, the culmination of the roadmap work that had been the other half of the mandate the whole time. I wasn’t there for whatever came after that, so I won’t claim the longer funding story as something that happened on my watch. What I can say is that the company went from being turned down to being funded and shipped, in the same stretch of months I was responsible for making it investable — and that a company doesn’t always need new data to become fundable. Sometimes it needs someone to find and organize the argument that was already sitting inside the product, waiting to be told correctly.
Subi had already been turned down once before I joined. Digital Sandbox, a Kansas City nonprofit that runs cohorts and awards funding to early-stage companies, had passed on the company — a rejection that, on its face, was about the product not being ready. I came in afterward as an embedded growth consultant, effectively a fractional Chief Growth Officer, with a fairly specific mandate: figure out why investors weren’t responding, and fix it.
The product itself was easy enough to describe. It helped people find others nearby who wanted to play the same sport or activity. That description explained the mechanics, but it didn’t explain why this particular company deserved outside capital. Pickup sports apps, leagues, clubs, and informal group chats built around already knowing enough people to text when you wanted to play weren’t in short supply, and Subi didn’t have a matching algorithm meaningfully better than anyone else’s, or the user density yet to make games easy to find everywhere. There was no spreadsheet I could point to and say there, that’s why we win — which meant the rejection wasn’t really about a missing feature. It was about the company not yet having a coherent argument for itself.
So I started working the problem from several directions at once. I pushed to formalize the product roadmap around actual milestones instead of an open-ended feature list, tightened feature selection down to what the company could credibly ship and defend, and began rebuilding the language the company used to describe itself — because the existing framing sat too close to the rest of its category, all the products built around athletic identity, competition, and performance. That framing works for people who already see themselves as athletes. I was more interested in the people standing at the edge of that identity: people who wanted to play but didn’t have anyone to call, people who’d just moved to a new city, people whose social circles had scattered, people who wanted to try something new but didn’t want to walk into an established group alone. The value was never really about making people better at a sport. It was about making it easier for them to play at all — and once I could see that clearly, the roadmap, the market focus, and the pitch itself all had something real to organize around instead of pulling in different directions.
The founder later found the 4Impact program and wanted to apply, and the application became the forcing function that pulled all of that work into one argument. An application like that doesn’t let a company hide behind a vague description of what the product does — it demands a real answer to who it’s for, what problem it solves, and why it matters. By that point I’d already done the underlying work; the application was where it had to become airtight. The founder’s own story anchored it — searching field to field for a pickup soccer game and getting turned away, an experience that was his and stayed his throughout. My job was building the rest of the argument around it: that people lose social circles, that participation quietly depends on already knowing the right people, and that the sport was really just the shared reason for two strangers to show up in the same place. That synthesis, the roadmap discipline behind it, and the investor-facing narrative were mine to build. The application gave the strategy a deadline. It didn’t invent the strategy.
The company was accepted into 4Impact and won funding through the program — a direct reversal of the Digital Sandbox outcome, on largely the same underlying product, now organized around a coherent argument instead of a feature list. The same month I left the company, Subi was accepted into the Apple App Store, the culmination of the roadmap work that had been the other half of the mandate the whole time. I wasn’t there for whatever came after that, so I won’t claim the longer funding story as something that happened on my watch. What I can say is that the company went from being turned down to being funded and shipped, in the same stretch of months I was responsible for making it investable — and that a company doesn’t always need new data to become fundable. Sometimes it needs someone to find and organize the argument that was already sitting inside the product, waiting to be told correctly.