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Every now and then, you’re lucky enough to see someone at the absolute peak of performance. Think Usain Bolt in the 2016 Olympics. Lionel Messi in the 2022 World Cup. Serena Williams in, well, any tournament she’s ever played in.
They’re unflustered and unbeatable, their achievements almost unbelievable.
You can now add Sharon in Sports Direct to this list. Maidenhead, August 2026.
It’s worth pausing for a second to let that sink in. I had one of the best customer experiences I can remember having in Sports Direct. I know, me neither.
And it was an experience that reminded me of the difference one talented, committed individual can make to a person’s day, of how under-appreciated retail roles are, and of how – in my opinion – all the best leaders start life on the frontline.
Of course, the visit had started in total chaos.
Me, two kids, and a long list of back-to-school sports equipment to buy, entering an environment that wouldn’t be out of place in 28 Days Later. Abandoned clothes, screaming children, adults walking around with a dazed and dead-eyed look on their faces.
Up in the football boot section, it got worse. Shoe boxes piled up as a queue of agitated parents waited for help to appear, as their kids grabbed ever-more expensive apparel and shouted that they simply had to have these boots as they’re what Mbappé is wearing this season and they can’t be expected to play their Sunday 5-a-side against little Toby in anything less.
I felt the stress very deeply in my body: no idea when we’ll be served, if we’ll be served. The concern of other people ‘pushing in’. The worry that the situation will make me panic buy the wrong size. And, of course, the very real fear that this might be how I die. What an ironic demise that would be.
Like all good cinematic near-death experiences, just as I thought it was too late for me, a hero arrived to save the day.
And her name was Sharon.
I’d actually spotted her when we’d first arrived. As my kids – of course it would be my kids – ran up a static, broken-down escalator, I saw her see them, radio ahead to her colleagues upstairs, and have someone ready up there to to remind them not to do it again.
Sharon wasn’t messing around.
‘What are you looking for?’
I explained the slightly convoluted combination of footwear I needed to buy.
‘Right, no problem, wait here, I’ll be one minute.’
Thirty seconds later, she was back, four boxes under her arms.
‘Try these for PE, these for football. These have 75% off at the moment and are just as good as the Adidas. I’ll be back in one minute’
As my eldest son tried on the shoes, I watched in awe as she batted away query after query.
A customer who didn’t speak English, understood and pointed in the right direction for walking boots.
A colleague who wanted to know whose turn it was to go on a break next, given an immediate and decisive answer.
A radio call down to the staff room to get more people to deal with the queue, politely, but without compromise.
Whilst dealing with all of these, she ordered my son to walk around the store, so she could see the fit. For the first time in his life, he did what he was asked, without hesitation. Although to be honest, at that point if she’d asked me to give her my life savings, I probably would have.
‘Ok, they fit, but he’s going to grow. I’d go a size up, use insoles, save yourself a trip back here in six months. That’s what I always did with my kids. Let me show you’.
It went on like this for the next few minutes. She found everything we needed, whilst dealing with multiple customer and colleague queries at the same time. She showed us where the other things on our list were, and the best options to get. She gathered everything up, put it behind the till, told us it would be there when we were ready to pay.
I was in awe.
I love how Sharon helped me get to the outcome I wanted; not just selling shoes, but remembering I was a parent, that money is tight, that kids have an annoying habit of growing out of the expensive things they insist you buy for them. Use insoles, get the cheaper, better brand.
But more than that, she reminded me of the understated brilliance that happens in shops, stations, branches and restaurants around the country every day – and how they help people learn the skills that make for a really effective leader.
Of course, you get direct exposure to customers, meeting people and hearing stories that stay with you as you start making more strategic decisions. But you learn so much more.
You learn how to communicate, dealing with all kinds of problem and personalities immediately, face to face.
You learn how to multitask, juggling customer queries, colleague challenges, selling, servicing, and sorting. Which means you learn real-time prioritisation, because a retail store isn’t the place where you can take your work home with you.
And you learn to react, to stay calm in chaos. The doors open, and you have to deal with whatever walks in through the door that day, often making rapid decisions under direct pressure, with a queue of people watching your every move.
In the midst of the chaos I walked into that day, Sharon was calmness personified, thriving on the adrenaline that I still miss to this day.
As I left Sharon’s orbit, it was back to reality, seeing the escalator was being used as a creative way to move stock from one floor to the other. Sure, it looked untidy. But it worked. And my kids even walked down the right way.
Thanks for reading this article, I really hope you enjoyed it. You can subscribe to my monthly newsletter below, find me in picture form on Instagram @johnjsills, or in work mode at The Foundation and LinkedIn.
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