SAM'S DILEMMA

Friday, 6:46 p.m.

When he dreamed about retirement, Sam had imagined that one day he'd leave this company with his flags flying high. Retirement would be the exclamation point at the end of his career. But tonight, Sam wasn't feeling any of that. As he climbed into his car, he loosened his belt buckle. He had to do something about this weight, which was just one more thing to stress about.

He glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror. The man he saw looking back at him was definitely not riding the waves of success. He looked absolutely drained. As he drove home from work, fighting Friday night traffic, he wondered if he could even make it through the next couple of weeks, let alone until retirement. Staring at the endless taillights in front of him, he ruminated over the tough week that had just ended and decisions that loomed in the week ahead.

First had come the news that his team had missed their targets for the third straight quarter. But that was nothing compared to what had happened next. Jerry, one of the warehouse supervisors and a star performer, walked into Sam's office just as Sam was wrapping up the day. When Sam saw him coming, he grabbed the report, thinking surely Jerry could help him come up with ideas to boost the fulfillment numbers.

But something was off. Jerry wasn't his usual lighthearted self. In fact, he looked nervous. Trying to lighten the moment, Sam said, "What's up—worried about the game tonight? Afraid your team is going to lose?"

That's all it took. Jerry blurted it right out. He had gotten another job offer, and he'd accepted it.

Jerry went on to explain that there were several reasons why he'd taken it. The offer was one he couldn't refuse. It was more money, a shorter commute, and better hours. And then, as quickly as Jerry had come in, he left.

As Sam sat in stunned silence, he wondered if there was more to it. Over the past six months, he'd been pushing Jerry harder than usual. The warehouse wasn't making its numbers, and Jerry was the only one he could rely on to get the work out. The other supervisors just didn't seem to have the drive anymore, unable to light a fire under their teams so they'd accomplish what had to get done. Jerry did. Jerry was Sam's go-to guy, the one man who could always pull a rabbit out of his hat.

But now Jerry was leaving. Sam worried about how he would manage without him. And in the back of his mind, Sam couldn't help wondering if Jerry was leaving because of him. Sam was familiar with the saying, "People don't quit the company; they quit their boss." In Jerry's case, was that true? Sam had planned on giving him a raise when it was review time, but what did that matter now? Jerry was also the only one on the team who could have stepped into Sam's job when he retired in four years. Now what was he going to do? With Jerry gone, Sam was left with a broken, unmotivated team.

Thankfully, Jerry had given two weeks' notice. That would buy a little time to find a replacement. But who? How could he replace someone like Jerry?

Tiny raindrops spattered the windshield. Sam flicked his wipers on slow speed. It hadn't always been like this. He remembered joining the company straight out of school. He'd had big dreams about his career back then and soon realized that he'd need a degree to make those dreams come true. So as soon as he was eligible for the company's tuition reimbursement program, Sam had enrolled part time at the local college. Six and a half years later, he had his degree in supply-chain management and his first promotion. He was on his way.

Twenty-five years and several promotions later, Sam's dream had become a reality. He was made manager of the largest parts warehouse in the company.

The raindrops were getting larger, and with them Sam faced a growing realization. Instead of spending his last years with the company reveling in his accomplishments, he was drearily counting down the days to retirement. Not exactly what he'd planned.

It was pouring hard by the time Sam pulled into the driveway. The battery in his garage door opener chose today to go dead, forcing him to make a mad dash through the rain to the front door. Sam stood dripping in the foyer for a moment, catching his breath. He listened. The house was empty. He knew he was late. The traffic jam had been unrelenting. But he'd avoided the accident that had fouled up everyone's Friday night commute, and that was some consolation. He found a note on the table from his wife, telling him she was out running errands and that he'd find his dinner in the oven.

Sam grabbed his dinner and a Heineken from the fridge and headed for the patio. The rain had stopped, but a bank of dark clouds to the west still threatened. He poked at the food, not really hungry. Pushing the plate aside and taking a long sip from the green bottle, he contemplated what to do about Jerry. As much as he tried to focus on a solution, he couldn't avoid going back to that nagging question: "Is Jerry quitting me?"

Sam recalled some of the managers he'd had in his past. Some were real pieces of work. The last guy he'd reported to was a complete jerk, a yeller who constantly told people they were idiots. Sam had promised himself that when he became manager, he would never treat people that way. And when he did get the promotion, he tried hard to be one of the guys.

But in time, some of his team had begun taking advantage of Sam's easygoing spirit. Performance numbers started to slip, so he had to get a little tougher. But at his very worst, he was nothing like the prior manager. Of that he was sure. He got frustrated at times, and occasionally he lost his temper, but didn't everyone? The warehouse could be a pressure cooker sometimes. He always went back and made amends once he'd calmed down. The truth was, sometimes he had to lay down the law to get the guys in gear.

Sam admitted he was at a total loss for what to do. And without food, the beer was going straight to his head. He couldn't concentrate. He grabbed his untouched plate and the empty beer bottle and headed inside as the second wave of rain began to pound the deck.

Gloom hung over Sam for the remainder of the weekend. On Monday morning, he dragged himself into the office. No sooner had he sat down and started going through his e-mail when he heard a tap on his door. Looking up from the monitor, he saw Reggie leaning in his doorway. Reggie was Sam's boss, the regional manager. This is all I need today, Sam thought, convinced that Reggie had arrived to grill him about his lackluster production numbers.

He was wrong. Reggie came in and sat opposite him. His manner was surprisingly pleasant for someone who was about take Sam to task for another period of poor results. "How are you doing?" Reggie asked genuinely. "I heard the news about Jerry and wanted to come talk...