Dearest Reader,

2025 is upon us. And wow, did it get off to a flying start. 

We returned from London for the holidays with just enough time to see the ball drop in the States and ring in the New Year with some friends here in the city.

It’s wild to me that in America, you can very reasonably celebrate four NYEs in a three-hour span—ET, CT, MT, and PT—depending on how crazy your night is. It illustrates the sheer size of this place, yet we talk about it as if it’s the size of the UK.

I got an early one since my beloved Fighting Irish were scheduled to play against the Georgia Bulldogs in the New Orleans Sugar Bowl on New Year’s Day. The game was delayed by 24 hours, so I could have revelled in the NYE cheer a little longer.

Come Jan 2, however, I was on tenterhooks. Little did I know how the game would unfold and the plans it would spin into motion for the first two weeks of 2025.

You could argue that the craziest successive plays of Notre Dame’s entire season took place in the Sugar Bowl. FG. Strip Sack. Touchdown. Halftime. Kickoff return. We hadn’t beaten UGA in our prior five meetings. I was in South Bend in 2019 on that wretched day when Georgia’s backup QB gave us the runaround.

Six years later, I couldn’t believe what was unfolding in front of me. We delivered the special teams play of the season, which felt like vindication after our trick play against Indiana was ruled out. We won 23-10. Freeman totally outclassed Smart.

When the game finished, I got a text from my old roommate.

It said: “We going to Miami?”

7 days later, I’m touching down in the Sunshine State at MIA for the Orange Bowl.

We’re taking on Penn State at the Hard Rock Stadium, and I’m tailgating on the 2nd corner of the Miami GP race track. Pinch me. What’s hilarious is that I hadn’t watched a Notre Dame game live in a stadium since 2019 (UGA). When we travel to South Bend, often via party bus, I prefer to watch at a local bar. Now booze is finally being served in the stadium this season, maybe my tradition will change.

Anyway, to attend two of the biggest games in our modern-day history in a 10-day span is crazy in its own right. To do it after a 6-year hiatus is a whole other thing.

Despite being nowhere near Miami—the stadium is in Miami Gardens, which is a good 2-hour Uber ride from downtown on game days—the Hard Rock was a blast. There’s no real pre-game energy around the stadium since there are no bars, and it’s not in the best neighbourhood. But once inside? Totally worth it. It was a balmy 56 degrees at 7 PM, which for a Chicagoan like me in January felt absolutely surreal.

We started the game brilliantly, scoring on our first drive. We were in total control for most of the first half. Then disaster struck in the second. Leonard throws a pick and then proceeds to get a concussion. The vibe in the stadium was awful. I remember thinking to myself, we’ve blown this. How wrong was I. Jordan Faison, Steve Angeli, and the Holy Spirit of Touchdown Jesus had other ideas.

We win 27-24 thanks to a last-minute FG from Mitch Jeter. Pandemonium erupts.

One of my friends burst into tears and sobbed through the entire Alma Mater. He’s a lifelong ND fan who had waited a long time for this. I light up a victory cigar, FaceTime anyone who will answer, and we float our way back across the racetrack.

I think they call that the luck of the Irish. It all felt like a dream.

After Miami, it was time for the National Championship game in Atlanta, GA.

The biggest challenge for the National Championship, other than getting there, was sourcing tickets. The whole world wanted to be at this game. And who could blame them? My problem was that I wasn’t a season ticket holder. I wasn’t a big donor. And I had no familial or generational connections to ND alumni.

Third-party seats started at ~$2500/PP. It looked pretty bleak. Yet there was no way I was missing our first championship game since 2012—a year before I arrived in South Bend for my freshman year, or really even knew what Notre Dame was.

Luckily, a friend introduced me to this exceptional service called CFP RSVP.

The platform enables you to purchase call options for your preferred CFP team at a market-based price. A call option is a fancy word for paying a small fee to lock in the price of something you might want to buy later. If the price goes up, you can still redeem it at the price you paid, or sell it and make a profit—if not, you lose the fee.

In this case, the deal was that if the team you bought the option for advanced to the National Championship, you could then redeem your option and buy a ticket to the final at face value. I purchased 3x Notre Dame options and hedged my odds with 1x Penn St option. I did this before kickoff at the Orange Bowl in Miami.

This meant that as soon as Mitch Jeter kicked the winning FG, I knew my dad, my brother, and the friends I’d roped in to CFP RSVP were all going to the final. It made the moment so much sweeter because it was all anybody could discuss after the game in Miami. There wasn’t a soul in all of Florida who didn’t want to go after the way we won. Knowing we were going for face value was the icing on the cake.

I can’t tell you how much I respect CFP RSVP, especially with the antitrust suit going on with Live Nation. I’m a huge sports fan. I’m turning 30 years old later this year. I have never been to a major final before (outside of the FA Cup). Sure, I’m lucky enough to support two absolute heavyweights in United and Notre Dame.

My real point is that modern-day ticketing sucks. Nobody wins. This whole experience just felt different. I made an intelligent bet on my team with a hedge that would allow me to break even in any scenario. I was aware of what I could lose, but at least I was actually in with a fair shot—not competing against some cadre of bots.

This should exist for every single sport. It puts the power back in the fan’s hands.

With tickets sorted, we turned to logistics. It was cheaper for my dad and brother to fly LHR–ATL (4,210 miles) than for me to fly from ORD–ATL (587 miles).

Luckily, I had a brainwave: what about Milwaukee? A friend offered to drive us up, and we secured a seat on a reasonably priced flight from MKE-ATL. We even landed a First Class upgrade, which is proof of the magic (no security lines) and occasional luck that can sometimes come with a flight out of a non-hub airport.

The vibes were immaculate, especially after what happened to me the night before.

While celebrating our 10th anniversary at Prime & Provisions, my wife and I noticed Jon Gruden dining a few tables over. I wasn’t going to bother him, but my wife said I should before we left to catch a show. I’m glad she did. He couldn’t have been more gracious. Turns out he’s a South Bend native, Clay High School grad, and his dad coached the Irish when Joe Montana was quarterback. A total class act.

It felt like divine intervention. I left the restaurant convinced we were going to win.

Knock on wood if you’re with me!

Atlanta was busy. And boy was it freezing. The NFL playoffs, unfortunately, dominated the consciousness (and all the bar seats) Saturday and Sunday before the game. This meant that it was nearly impossible to get into a single bar, let alone find a place to sit. I think this was a total miss, and screwed the overall atmosphere.

I’m not sure who needs to hear this, but you don’t schedule the NFL playoffs on the same weekend as the National Championship. You don’t schedule a Champions League game the same day as the FA Cup finals. It distracts from the spectacle.

We tried our best to soak up the pre-match atmosphere on Sunday downtown at the MLK Centre. It took me three attempts to kick a field goal in my Timberlands, but we got there. We did well to arrive at the Capital One Pep Rally early. By the time we left, 10,000 people were trying to get in. There was nowhere else to go.

It felt like Atlanta was a bit overrun. It’s undoubtedly got one of the best stadiums in the country, but as a city, I left feeling like it couldn’t really handle the crowd a major final brings. It’s so spread out. Having three separate urban areas (Downtown, Midtown, and Buckhead) creates very awkward commuting distances for fans.

You sort of had to pick a spot and hope for the best. Additionally, all the bars closest to the stadium were bought out by the schools. Chicago/London, which is what I’m used to, would never have that problem. They can absorb a major sports event, and you won’t even feel it in your local. You know to avoid Wembley or Soldier Field if there’s a game on. However, the city doesn’t screech to a halt, and 5-10 minutes away, you wouldn’t even know there was a game going on anyway because there are 1) that many bars and 2) accessible neighbourhoods via public transport.

I hope ATL figures it out before the World Cup. International fans will be perplexed otherwise. And wow, do I wish Chicago had a WC game. Fans would love this city. Could you imagine a Chicago Natty? That would be something else.

Gameday arrived on Monday. We took a party bus into the city. It was truly electric.

We scored on our first drive of the game and then faded. I thought we would finish our four-quarter comeback Man Utd style, but the 3rd and 11 explosive play from Smith with 2:45 to go just ended the proceedings. It was an incredible season and performance, especially considering that we had zero first-round draft picks compared to OSU’s four. Our highest draft pick (Benjamin Morrison) was injured all season and was selected in the second round as the 53rd overall pick. Levels. 

I’ve got nothing bad to say about the game. Mercedes-Benz is a hell of a stadium. Enjoying a reasonably priced beer on the concourse while looking out on the field pre-match is a total spectacle. The cost of concessions has increased (like everything) since my 2018 trip, but they are still competitive. We loved our seats.

The only thing I’ll moan about is the in-game DJ. Sack him off before the World Cup, he was awful. I had better DJ talent at my 9th birthday party. Added nothing to proceedings and was a total distraction. The game is enough entertainment. 

Notre Dame also fumbled the bag on swag. I ordered a Xavier Watts jersey after the UGA win, and it didn’t arrive for 2 weeks. I was unable to get the customisation I wanted (e.g. WATTS 0), and the quality of the jersey was poor. In the NIL era?!

Thank god for Homefield. They came in so clutch. All in all, this was the first championship run of any sport that I’ve got to be a part of. Incredible experience. Proud of the boys. Hungry for more. We will be back next year. Mark my words.

With ND’s infamous CFP run over, it was time to settle back into the grind.

I got home from ATL on January 15. From there, it was an 8-week sprint until our quarter-end vacation in Florida with my in-laws during the last weekend of March.

Overall, a robust and exciting quarter. I’m happy with our output and progress.

I published my 2024 Annual Review, which received a tremendous reception and was a real highlight. My wife and I celebrated our 10th anniversary. My Irish passport arrived. I can move like a European Union (EU) citizen again. I completed Tour De Echlon 2024. Recorded the first bestie podcast in-person since 2019. I subscribed to print editions of The Atlantic and The Washington Post. I can’t read that deeply on my iPhone/iPad. I long for joy of the physical reading experience.

We had a few health issues in our house. I dealt with a bout of insomnia, which meant I missed  Folamour’s Chicago gig. WHOOP got me through. F&B highlights included Maxwells Trading, a friend’s new opening (Sharpies) and natural wine fest Third Coast Soif. Shout out to Eddie Chami from Mersel Wines. Cool winemaker, and I just love Lebanese wine. However, it was the Albariño Pet Nats from the Central Coast that blew me away, particularly from Catch & Release.

Anyway, that’s enough about me. Let’s get onto business. 

Advisor.

Man, does it feel good to be back in the world of keynotes and conferences. In a sense, it’s like I never left, but my role couldn’t be more different this time around.

My speechwriting practice evolved naturally from the early ghostwriting I did for a NYT bestselling author. What’s new (and cool) is that I’m now negotiating the speaker deal (agent) and creating the content of the speech itself (speechwriter). It’s a powerful example of vertical integration done right. The dual role is a total blast.

I feel like the years I spent travelling the world on the conference circuit (2015-2018) give me a real edge. I can put myself in the organiser’s shoes. I know what real value looks like for an audience. I know what most speakers don’t do, in terms of preparation and delivery. So we can blow that bar out of the water with a structure that brings the best out of everybody—the speaker, the organizer and the audience.

Negotiating an innovative structure with a great fee, killer speech, and up-front travel courtesy of business-class.com is rewarding. My partner shared the stage with Fabrizio Romano, which was a pretty cool bonus. I’m excited to double down on this proposition in 2025 and see where in the world speaking takes us next.

Hospitality.

We had a tremendous quarter on the hospitality front.

My confidence is through the roof. Our product went live with a hospitality group across all 10+ units. It was a special moment. Watching the scale of impact we had on night #1 and continue to have night after night of service astounds me.

It is fantastic to hear people who’ve worked in this space for decades and seen it all say, “Wow, you’ve really got something here.” I’m excited to keep blowing minds.

What we do—help groups identify their true superfans—not only works. It’s the entire game, especially in today’s climate. With rents, wages, inflation, tariffs, and labour shortages squeezing every margin, the only edge you have left is your data.

And yet so few groups can do something meaningful with it. Hence our value, and the tremendous downstream effects we create for operations, marketing and events.

Diners want so much more from their favourite groups. Period.

The generic mass blast email campaign marketing tied to holidays, you know the “buy $100 in gift cards, get a $25 bonus”, is a tired and broken playbook. It is also the antithesis of great hospitality—the art of being personal, warm, and proactive at scale, which is the very thing these groups strive so hard to be. Do you see the irony?

Everyday Hospitality enables groups to be hospitable at scale because we help you recognise, reward, and retain your very best guests over time. Imagine a world where every restaurant group skips the random influencer comps and the cringey IG story videos for a new opening, and instead invites its actual superfans—the ones who have already proven their loyalty—to experience their new concept first.

Superfans don’t just show up for a free meal; they show up because they’re proud to belong. They bring the buzz, drive return bookings, and contribute to the bottom line. That’s the shift we’re driving in hospitality. Like CFP RSVP, we’re flipping the model: enabling groups to reward their realest fans, not just the loudest ones.

Travel.

Q1 is always a busy season for travel, and this year was no exception.

Right now, we’re gearing up for Retreat XXVIII in Wine Country. Each retreat we curate raises the bar: more intimacy, more excellence, more magic. When you’re operating at this level of luxury, the challenge becomes finding venues that make the last one look ordinary. There are only so many properties in the world that can truly take your breath away—and we’ve made it our mission to find them.

Q1 also marks the start of the luxury hotel events season. Think Bridgerton, but for hotels. The top brands—Auberge, Aman, Belmond, Montage, and Marriott Luxury—descend on cities like Chicago for a flurry of dinners, presentations, and social events. There’s a certain charm to it: business cards in hand, stories told with fluency and conviction by reps who may not even live near the property they’re selling. It’s old-school in the best way. A dying craft, maybe, but one I respect deeply.

That said, the format of these events badly needs a rethink. It’s either too presentation-heavy or there are too many representatives from different properties under the same brand competing for the same clients and spend in the room. One-upmanship kills the vibe. Curators like me expect better from luxury groups. There are smarter, more intentional ways to truly connect in real life. We’re the proof.

Our model and philosophy for convening are different from most. We like to curate small groups with big impact. Our footprint may seem modest compared to a 100-room conference. Yet, the reality is we often drive just as much revenue, if not more, and it’s better business, because we don’t blitz inventory or overwhelm the lobby.

The difference is in the experience. Our guests don’t wear ugly plastic lanyards, write notes with cheap pens or drink lukewarm black coffee from styrofoam cups. They have conversations that matter, in places that inspire, often the best a property has to offer, over exceptional food, wine and company.  That’s the real opportunity.

The smartest hotels are starting to get it. They realise they’re not just selling rooms, but rather offering unique spaces, time, and transformation to people who need it. What we’ve secured for Napa is the perfect example. How do I know I’m right?

Because if you ask someone where they imagine having a life-changing conversation, it’s never in a ballroom. It’s in a living room or over dinner.

Q2

I can’t lie. It’s a big one. We’ve got several plates spinning.

I’m back in the lab on design. We need to get our materials refreshed and up to scratch before we head into the summer. I’ve got some fun international travel on the books. It’s Tax SZN. I’m turning 30. Summer’s coming. All good things. I’m looking forward to keeping it on point in the gym and with my pen. 

As always, if you’d like to follow along, please drop your email here for updates or reach out directly if you’d like to get involved in the world we’re building.

I’m always on the lookout for innovative and ambitious partners.

Here’s to Q2—CGM.