Never Get Asked Twice: The Standard That Changed Everything
Why speed, ownership, and backing yourself quietly separate you from everyone else
A couple of years after I joined Bath Rugby, the club was bought by a new Chairman, and with him came a new CEO.
He was very different from the one before. For a start, he had real experience in sport, and more than that, he genuinely cared about people. I remember the first time I met him. We passed each other on the stairs in our slightly chaotic, makeshift offices, and I introduced myself straight away. I asked if we could grab a coffee so I could explain what I did and how I fitted into the organisation.
He agreed immediately, and we set it for the next morning.
We went across the road to one of the coffee shops in Bath, and when we sat down, he pulled out a small black notepad. I came to learn that this notepad went everywhere with him. He would write in it constantly, sometimes calmly, sometimes when he was clearly irritated. If he was writing and not smiling, you paid attention.
I talked him through my role, where I thought it could go, what I needed, and where I felt things could be improved. He listened properly. Took notes. Asked questions. Promised support.
At the time, I had no idea how much of an impact he would have on how I worked, and, ultimately, how I lived.
Because he taught me one of the simplest, and most powerful standards I have ever come across.
You should never have to be asked twice.
Early on, he introduced management meetings and invited me to join. I remember feeling genuinely pleased about that. For the first time, I felt like I was being seen properly, not just as the “press girl”, but as someone with a role that mattered.
At those meetings, we were all given actions.
I assumed that meant by the next meeting.
It didn’t.
An action point meant now. Or as close to now as possible.
The following morning, he came into my office and asked me about mine. It was something fairly straightforward, a media schedule. I hadn’t done it. I said, quite breezily, that I would get to it, not to worry.
He had other ideas.
I can still picture it. His expression changed almost instantly. His eyes darkened, his face tightened slightly, and the atmosphere in the room shifted. I cannot remember his exact words, but the message was very clear.
When I ask you to do something, I expect it to be done.
Not later.
Not when you get round to it.
Now.
I apologised, heart racing slightly, and got on with it immediately.
And I never made that mistake again.
What I began to understand was that this was not about one task.
It was about how you operate.
Because in that environment, everything moved quickly.
You had a match every week. Saturday game, Sunday off, Monday straight back in with team announcements, press releases, logistics. By midweek, you were preparing for press conferences, managing players, shaping messaging. By the end of the week, you were in full match mode again.
There was no space for delay.
No room for indecision.
If something needed doing, it needed doing properly, and it needed doing quickly.
And it was not just my role.
The coaches were working to the same rhythm. Review, adjust, plan, execute. The margins were tight, and the timelines even tighter. If you were at the sharp end of the season, preparing for quarter-finals or semi-finals, you might only have a couple of days to prepare for the next opposition.
Decisions had to be made with conviction.
There was no sitting around, overthinking it.
You learned to trust your judgement, because there was no alternative.
That is where the real shift happened for me.
It was not just about speed.
It was about ownership.
Not waiting.
Not needing to be chased.
Not sitting on something because you were not completely sure.
You made the decision.
You backed it.
And if it needed adjusting, you adjusted it.
But you moved.
That way of operating has stayed with me far beyond sport.
You see it in small things.
When we got engaged, we set a wedding date four months later. Not because we were rushing, but because we knew what needed to be done, and we just got on with it. We made decisions quickly, trusted them, and moved forward.
The same applies at home. If something needs doing, we do it. We do not spend weeks circling a decision. We choose, we act, and if it needs changing, we change it.
And it applies even more in work.
I plan my days. I write things down. I decide what matters, and I get on with it. I remove distractions where I can, and I come back to what needs to be done.
Not perfectly.
But consistently.
He taught me something else as well.
If you go to someone with a problem, that is not enough.
He did not want to hear what was wrong.
He wanted to know what I was going to do about it.
That changed how I approached everything.
Instead of saying, “this is not working”, I would go to him with, “this is what is not working, and this is what I propose we do about it.”
It is a small shift, but it changes how you are seen.
Because you are no longer adding to the problem.
You are moving things forward.
Looking back, the lesson was never just about speed.
It was about trust.
Because when someone knows they do not have to chase you, remind you, or check in on you, everything changes.
You become easier to work with.
More reliable.
More valuable.
And that is what creates opportunity.
If someone has to ask you twice, you have already taken too long.
Not because everything has to be rushed.
But because how you operate matters.
Do you move?
Do you take ownership?
Do you back yourself?
Or do you wait?
This is not about being impulsive.
It is about being decisive.
Because in most situations, your first instinct is far more capable than you give it credit for.
And even if it is not perfect, you can adjust.
But you cannot build anything if you are constantly hesitating.
Never get asked twice.
It sounds simple.
But it changes everything.




Never get asked twice is a benchmark/standard one must set for themselves because then it shows that the other person is seen & their presence is also felt. If one is present there but they feel like they are not seen, it is quite a nasty feeling to have for oneself and the organization they are working in.
Early in my career, I remember going into a meeting with a senior leader where I showed up with a problem but no solution. He expected me to propose a few options on how to address it. The meeting was short, and I never made that mistake again. Tough lesson, but a valuable one.
One small habit I’ve tried to stick to in my personal life is the five-minute rule. If something needs to get done and will take less than five minutes, I do it right away. It seems like a small thing, but it’s amazing how many five-minute tasks there are and how quickly they add up if left undone.