Case Study 1: GTM Strategy
A fictional company “HeroMash” demonstrates how adopting role modelship habits leads to better outcomes.
You’re the Strategy advisor Marie McGyver, who is a Jill-of-all-trades.
What role models would you channel, how would you demo role modelship and what would you do?
It was late afternoon at the Meritage Resort in Napa, California. The summer light was soft, filtering through the sheer silk blinds, half-open, filling the small conference room with sunspots and dancing shadows.
Marie McGyver, a former CEO and now a HeroMash Go-To-Market (GTM) strategy advisor, sat in a big blue conference chair, legs crossed, the faintest smile on her face. Across from her sat Ridley Liam, the Chief Revenue Officer (CRO). Ridley had climbed the ranks in the $1B European autonomous vehicle software division of HeroMash. After their six-hour strategic meeting, Ridley fidgeted, clearly troubled, his brow furrowed in frustration.
“Marie, I’m at a crossroads.” Ridley took a sip of his Starbucks coffee. “What would you recommend? Our division is trying to get our GRR to 90%, but 97% of our deals are one-year software contracts. We’re transitioning to three-year contracts, trying to hit that elusive rule of 40. Ten percent of our top 1,000 customers contribute to 50% of our revenue. Per direction from our new CEO Bill, sales and customer experience teams are being reshuffled. It’s complete chaos. You heard about our last offsite.”
Marie nodded, her hands resting on her lap, her expression calm. “Ah, transitions. Life is full of them, isn’t it? Whether it’s business or relationships. So what’s got you so wound up? Please remind me of the context. As you know, I’m losing a bit of my long-term memory. It’s not just the numbers, is it?”
Marie had a myriad of undiagnosed brain conditions but was too stubborn to go see a doctor on a regular basis. Ridley appreciated every minute with her.
“No, it’s the people. Our CEO, Bill Ballerina, excluded half of our VPs from the new Executive Leadership Team (ELT) offsite where we discussed the path to efficient growth. And no one understands why the jarring surprise exclusion was needed. The criteria were never explained. Those left out? Well, they got blindsided. It’s not the first time Bill has done something like this either. He doesn’t put decisions down on paper. Some VPs are already talking about leaving, and the SVPs—they’re scrambling to explain the madness.”
Marie leaned back, her eyes closing briefly as she absorbed every word. It was a movie she’d seen before, as her old boss used to say.
“Ah, exclusion. It can be devastating, can’t it? Not to make excuses, but Bill has massive scope with twelve divisions. So, what did you do?”
“Wish I had done something, but I was too focused on the numbers.” Ridley sighed. “One of our SVPs, Tamara, took it upon herself to role-model fellowship and leadership. She made a simple document with the ‘why, what, who, when, how,’ with points CEO staff could agree on. Tamara orchestrated the VPs delivering key messages to their teams and gathered feedback. Tamara even managed to stop three key VPs from walking out—VPs in sales, customer success, and IT.”
Marie chuckled softly. “It always takes someone willing to step up, doesn’t it? Someone who sees the bigger picture and is resilient to moving cheese. It’s not just about saving those VPs, you know. It’s about saving trust in the entire company. Once trust is broken, it’s hard to fix.”
“But what would you recommend we do next? We’re still in this mess. The CEO doesn’t model fellowship or leadership—even sponsorship, for that matter.”
Marie leaned forward and reached for her bottled Coca-Cola, her voice soft but steady. “The CEO is focused on revenue and profit, and sometimes, people get lost in those numbers. It’s not unusual. But here’s the thing: You can’t lead with fear and exclusion, Ridley. I’m not telling you anything new. The greatest leaders—the ones who build real communities—show up for their people. They explain the ‘why.’ Not everyone can make it to the head table, but everyone deserves to know where they stand and why. You can talk to Bill. You’re well respected. He’ll listen to you.”
Ridley shuffled his feet. “But what if Bill doesn’t listen? The culture’s already broken.”
Marie smiled, a faint sparkle in her eyes. “Then you become the leader your people need. You wear a CEO hat. You channel your role model CEOs. Just like that SVP who stepped up. One person can change the course of many, Ridley. You said it yourself: she saved three VPs. I don’t have to tell you—that’s not a small thing.”
Ridley sat back, thinking. “I really don’t have time. I have customers that are churning and need my attention. So much paperwork, so many contracts. We’re losing revenue…”
Marie continued, looking far out the window. “You see, sometimes, we wait for someone else to lead. But in life, we are all leaders, fellows, and mentors. What matters is how you choose to prioritize and show up. Can you show up differently? If your CEO won’t model fellowship, leadership, or sponsorship, then maybe you need to be the one to model it. He’ll pick it up—believe me, that doesn’t go unnoticed. Tell stories of what great looks like. Inspire. Build trust, bit by bit. It won’t be easy. But the best things rarely are.” Marie laughed. “Next time, before I give you many answers, I will ask you way more questions.” She winked.
Marie stopped, and for a moment they both just looked out the window at the grapevines in front of the Meritage Resort in Napa. Ridley tried to see what Marie saw. He tried to see time and seasons, his life passing in slow motion. Ridley’s eyes softened, as if the weight on his shoulders had lightened, even if just for a moment. “Yes, I have to prioritize and show up differently.”
Marie tore a page from her red HeroMash notebook, quickly scribbled three lines, folded the paper into an airplane, and gave it to Ridley. “Wings. Your team need wings, Ridley. What would your mentor Samuel Dawit, the CEO of Pavilion Street, do? What’s the inspiring mission?”
“You’re right.” Ridley sat back, thinking. “We have a mission.”
“What’s the distance between paper and wings?” Marie smiled.
“I love that question,” Ridley said, while opening the folded plane. Knowing Marie as a coach, Ridley guessed she’d never ask a question without already having at least one answer.
The three lines read:
From papers to wings,
From thoughts to flights,
From potential to freedom.
Ridley would keep that checkered-paper airplane for the rest of his life and re-tell this story as he wrote on the wall various predictions.
If you were in Marie McGyver’s shoes, what else would you do?