You remember the scene. Russell Crowe’s Maximus, bloodied and breathless in the sand of the Colosseum, has just dispatched a formidable opponent with brutal efficiency. He turns to a sea of silent, stunned faces—thousands who demanded this spectacle—and bellows the raw, defiant question: “Are you not entertained?!”

It’s a moment of profound irony. He delivered exactly what was asked for, performed at the highest level, and yet the response is… crickets. The transaction feels incomplete. The value given is not met with recognition, only consumption.

As a serial entrepreneur, this is my life.

I’ve danced on the entrepreneurial sand for years. The resume bullets read like a conqueror’s ledger: industry-first accomplishments, 26 books authored, millions in capital raised, entire sectors shifted, media platforms built that reach millions of views. I keep dancing. I innovate, execute, and deliver again and again.

Yet, so often after the victory, it’s just… crickets.

The system—the hiring market, the client pipeline, the conventional business world—doesn’t know what to do with me. I’ve been employer, employee, under-employed, and seeker. Whether someone wants to contract me or hire me, they often stare at my mosaic of a career, perplexed. They see a lighting designer, a tech founder, an author, a podcast host. They see the what, but they miss the how and the why.

Let me simplify it:

I am a business strategist and implementer.

I see the gap in your defenses. I know how to forge the weapon to close it. And I can either take up the sword myself or hand you the exact blueprint to wield it. I operate in the space between vision and reality, diagnosis and cure.

But this skill is a ghost in the machinery of modern recruitment. It doesn’t fit neatly into a checkbox for “Python” or “10 years in SaaS sales.” It is the meta-skill. It’s the ability to dissect chaos, identify the pivotal pressure point, and architect order. It’s what you can’t see on a resume. It requires a patron who doesn’t just look at the gladiator, but understands the art of war he represents.

People read my posts. Tens of thousands a week. Millions engage with the platforms I build. The evidence of impact is there. Yet that crucial, logical leap so rarely happens: “Hey, I see you’re brilliant at diagnosing complex problems and building systems to solve them. We are lost in the woods on [X]. Can you help us find the path?”

So I keep hustling. I keep writing, building, speaking, and strategizing in public, waiting for the few who perceive the pattern behind the performances.

It always circles back to that line from the dust of the Colosseum, a quiet echo in a quiet room after another unseen victory:

“Are you not entertained?”

But now, the question evolves. It’s not a shout of defiance, but an invitation to a deeper conversation.

Are you not seeing the strategy behind the spectacle? Are you not recognizing the architect behind the action? The gladiator is ready to sheathe his sword and consult on your battle plans. The question is: will you send for him?

I am not just the performer. I am the one who designs the game.

If your company has been struggling to figure out the unfigureoutable, maybe it’s time we talked. The crowd might be silent, but the right strategist can help you hear the victory chant on the horizon.