SUCCESSFUL ENTREPRENEUR, HOW TO BE COME A SUCCESS

Successful entrepreneur, how to be come a success online, the ability to sell is the key to really successful entrepreneur

I believe that being given an understanding of any product, I could sell it to anyone who had a genuine need or desire. I don't need to sit in a training room for a week, I don't need anyone to hold my hand and show me the ropes. I can simply pick up a telephone and talk to people, unscripted and without notes.

Start of article about becoming a successful entrepreneur.

We are always on the lookout for high calibre sales people who can do this. They are like gold dust and, although we get lots of applicants, the sales people who can sell without having a sales manager breathing down their neck all the time are a rarity. Only people who have total belief in themselves can do this.

Belief in oneself is the foundation for all the other qualities needed by the successful entrepreneur. Without this belief, the knocks and disappointments that all entrepreneurs have to deal with will erode all the other qualities until you eventually surrender. Life as an entrepreneur is not easy and certainly does not suit many people.

CONFIDENCE

Some people could argue that confidence is the same thing as belief in oneself, but I would suggest that confidence, like arrogance, is a by-product of that belief.

I, like virtually everybody else, am not the whole article. I know my weaknesses and areas where I lack the skills, knowledge and expertise, and I am not afraid to surround myself with partners with greater abilities, understanding and experience than I have.

Do I have total belief in myself? Yes, if I am doing something within my comfort zone. Am I a confident person? Yes and no. I have had to do a lot of public speaking in my time and I hate it. I would prefer my partners to do the radio and television interviews, but I will happily talk to a newspaper reporter on a one to one basis.

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I have had standing ovations after giving talks and afterwards been asked to give tips on how I was so relaxed, when the truth was that I was leaning on the lectern because my legs were shaking so much I was scared I would fall down.

If I got in the ring to fight for the world heavy weight championship I would not for one moment believe that I could win, but I would be confident that I would give it my best shot. I would, however, have the commonsense not to get in the ring in the first place. So belief has to be tempered with commonsense, whilst being confident to make the right decisions and stick to what we do best.

Likewise, you have to be careful that your confidence is not seen as being arrogant. You can exude a quiet confidence and make people trust you; becoming over confident leads to arrogance and this is likely to alienate potential allies.

I, for argument's sake, am one hundred percent certain that I am not always right.

ENDURANCE

There have been times when I have told a story to my children about the biggest man I ever met. It is a lesson in determination and endurance that we can all learn a lesson from.

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Back in 1974 when I was 21 I took a sabbatical to France which included a bout of grape picking. This was back breaking work but the really tough task was carrying the panniers containing the grapes up to the vat trucks.

On the steep slopes, the panniers were carried on your back like a gigantic plastic open topped rucksack. The job of the carrier was to walk up and down between the vines and squat down so that the pickers could empty their buckets of grapes into the top. On arriving at the vat truck you had to climb a ladder and then lean right over to empty the contents into the vat. This was extremely hard work, but not as hard as working on the flat.

On the level vineyards, the carriers had to carry an enormous open top box which was hooked on a pole that was carried between two people. These boxes were filled beyond capacity and left between the vines where the carriers would come along, hook the box onto their pole by squatting down and then swing the pole up onto their shoulders as they stood up. It had to be coordinated or the box could tip up or, worse still, cause serious injury to the back and neck.

I have no idea how heavy the back panniers were but they were damned heavy and it is my guess that the boxes were about four times as heavy as the back panniers. Imagine a box about four foot long, three foot wide and two and a half feet deep, each piled high with grapes. These would have been heavy enough in their own right, but during the three weeks that we were grape picking, it teamed down with rain virtually all the time. This meant that whilst the boxes were sitting between the vines being filled with grapes and waiting to be picked up, they were also filling with water. They weren't just heavy, they were fucking heavy, and this caused major problems.

The migrant workforce was made up of Arabs from all nations, burley Australians, athletic rugby playing New Zealanders, Poles, Gitanes (French Gypsies), tall German and Dutch students, and Brits from a variety of backgrounds including hod carriers and building workers.

Pickers were paid 100 Francs a day (about £10) whilst carriers were paid 120 francs per day (20% more) and so everybody wanted the job of a carrier. So when the Maitre asked who wanted to be a carrier there was no shortage of volunteers. The extra £2.00 per day was much needed to pay for my continued sabbatical and, though I put myself forward immediately, because I only weighed 10 stone despite being almost six foot tall, I looked like slim Jim the wooden weight lifter and was therefore passed over.

The first day we started on the slopes. Pouring with rain, it was slippery and treacherous and, within hours, many of the carriers had thrown in the towel and been replaced. Each time a replacement was needed I put myself forward, only to be ignored. By lunchtime, half the carriers had given up and by the evening the Maitre was getting frustrated by the lack of commitment.

There was no shortage of pickers, so carriers who quit moved on as there were constantly migrant workers turning up looking for a day's work. Many big guys who tried the job of carrier ended up quitting within hours or by the end of the day. All claimed that the job was either too hard or not worth the extra two pound a day. By the end of day two, there were so many quitters that there were only two possible replacements left.

So when the morning of the third day dawned and the Maitre was faced with the problem of who to give the job of carriers to, the only two volunteers who stepped forward were slim Jim the wooden weight lifter and a little Egyptian chap who stood no taller than five foot. The Maitre scanned the row of workers in desperation looking for anyone (even amongst some of the bigger female workers) before finally accepting that we were his only option.

The first three days were spent on the slopes and I would see this little Egyptian guy often walking on his hands and feet with the pannier crushing down on his back. He would be white with the effort, but all the time he wasn't prepared to give in. I was not prepared to surrender either. Every bone, every muscle in my body was aching to the point of bringing tears to my eyes, and every night I would throw myself exhausted and spent on my bed.

Two things, apart from the extra money, kept me going. The admiration of everyone around me who had thought I would have given up like them within hours, and a young French girl who would massage my legs and back every night. I would fall asleep long before she finished.

The second week we started on the level vineyards with the box panniers. Everyone chose their partners and as everyone either had a friend or someone of similar build to work with, the little Egyptian chap and myself were left facing each other when all the pairs had been picked. The Maitre pointed out that our height differences would make it incredibly more difficult to carry the boxes, but we both insisted that we could manage. Having proven ourselves the previous week, he shrugged his agreement and we started the first day's work.

Because of our height differences, my little Egyptian bloke took the front end of the bar whilst I took the rear. I cannot be certain if the physics of this partnership meant that more weight was born down on his small shoulders or if I took more pressure because I had to lean forward to stop the bar slipping off my shoulders. One thing is certain: it was interminably harder for both of us because of the awkward nature of our statures.

Throughout the two weeks we worked together, never speaking because we shared no common language and because communication took energy we could not spare, we worked constantly through the rain, never complaining, stooping to attach the metal hooks and swing the bar and the pannier up onto our shoulders with one motion. This we would carry to the vat truck and climb the ladders to tip the contents and feel the welcome but short relief of the contents pouring out of the boxes.

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