Written by: Andrew Killey - Practice Lead

“Play the ball, not the person.” 

It’s a cricket analogy my dad gave me early in my career, and it’s the advice that’s kept me grounded through more than 15 years in advertising. 

When you’re batting, you can’t get ahead of yourself. You play one ball at a time. If you’re focused on the fielders or the bowler instead of the ball, you’ll get out. 

In advertising terms: stop watching what everyone else is doing and focus on the work in front of you. 

It was somewhere between 2009 and 2012. I was in my early 20s, working as an Account Manager at a startup agency in Sydney. Advertising was in my blood. My father was a Creative Director in the heyday of Australian advertising, and my Uncle ran an agency in Adelaide. I loved the chaos, the energy, the creativity. 

But I was also ambitious, maybe too ambitious. I’d look around at senior colleagues and think, “If I were in that role, I’d do it better.” I spent too much time comparing myself, frustrated when colleagues fell short or when I struggled to manage up through layers of ego and politics. 

My strength has always been building relationships internally and with clients, but I was too focused on the competition to be fully present in my role. 

On the way home from work, I’d often call Dad for a chat about sport, life in general, and debrief about work. He understood the business, ups and downs, about the wins, losses and dramas. He became my unofficial career mentor, a good sounding board.  

One night, after another long rant about work frustrations, Dad paused. His voice was calm but firm: 

“Mate, you need to play what’s in front of you, not the people around you. In cricket, if you’re watching the fielders instead of the ball, you’ll get out. Focus on the next ball. Do your job. Trust yourself.” 

I mumbled agreement. Typical Dad wisdom. I didn’t get it. Not then. 

In 2012, I moved to London and worked there for three years. What struck me was how everyone seemed to know their lane. There were enough budgets to go around and enough work for everyone. People weren’t constantly comparing themselves to the agency down the road. They just got on with it. 

It was liberating. For the first time, I felt what my father meant; not just intellectually, but instinctively. 

When I came back to Australia and started leading teams, his advice hit home. The market here is tense and competitive, with everyone fighting for the same client dollars. I began noticing my team make the same mistakes I had: obsessing over competitors, comparing themselves constantly, and losing focus. 

One afternoon, I overheard two strategists spiralling because a rival agency had won a pitch. They were dissecting every move the other team made. I saw my younger self in them, watching everyone else and missing the ball. 

That’s when the full meaning of Dad’s lesson finally landed. It wasn’t about cricket. It was about the only game that matters: the one you’re playing. 

Account management pulls you in every direction. The creatives say, “fight for the idea.” The agency says, “Do what’s commercially right.” The client says, “Can you combine idea one and three?” Everyone wants your focus. 

We were pitching for new business recently. The team had spent days analysing the incumbent agency’s work, studying their case studies, their team, their process. I asked one question: 

“How much time have we spent understanding the client’s problem?” 

Silence. 

We reset. Focused on the brief, not the competition. Twenty-four hours later, we had our win strategy, and we won the pitch. 

The old man’s advice cut through the noise again: 

Trust yourself. Listen to everyone but concentrate on the problem in front of you. 

That mindset has given me permission to focus on what truly matters: the client in front of me, the brief in my hands, and the team beside me. 

It made me far more present.  I stopped chasing the next role or worrying about what others were doing and started being excellent where I was. I became a better account manager because I focused on the moment, not the ladder ahead. 

And it’s helped me as a leader, too. When I see my team getting distracted, fixated on competitors or client politics, I bring them back to that same lesson. 

As the industry evolves with AI creativity, programmatic buying, and mobile-first strategies, it’s easy to get caught in the comparison trap. But the principle stays the same: run your own race. Focus on the work, the client, and the moment. 

Dad gave me that permission early. It took me a few years to take it. These days, when I catch myself watching what others are doing, I hear his voice: 'Mate, play the ball.' Once I finally listened, everything changed.