In the first of a two-part series, Alastair Gilmour talks to a young man who had a lot to find out about himself before he could move his life forward. ********* Advice makes people sit up and take notice only if comes from someone who has "been there". Experience is a great nurturer and a welcome developer, but if one example is needed to define a career-influencing moment, we've found your man. Motivational programme organiser Kerr Nicoll is a director of Watt Nicoll Associates, a company set up to help others achieve maximum business potential and personal performance goals. Clients include Coca-Cola, BT, Royal Bank of Scotland, Zurich Financial, the Scottish Football Association, the English FA, Everton FC, Fulham FC and a clutch of professional footballers and managers who have sought advice and owe some of their success to the Ayrshire-based firm. Before joining his father, Watt, in the highly-successful business of motivational speaking and programme organising, Kerr was a nightclub manager accepting contracts for under-performing venues. The reason why a particular club wasn't showing expected financial returns could vary from staffing problems to "creative accountancy" and drugs-related crime. His job was to get the business back on an even keel and, for that, he was extremely well paid and received a big percentage of the next 12 months' profits. It was a tough job in a tough world and, as a teenager, he was the UK's youngest nightclub manager. He admits he was making "obscene amounts of money", but the cost to himself and his family was enormous. "At 17 years old, all I wanted was girls, girls, girls, Ferrari," says Kerr. "But, there weren't many options open to me. "Professional football? I was no good at that. Pop star? Couldn't sing. So, I set my sights on nightclub management because, for me, the nightclub manager had everything that spelt success. They rubbed shoulders with some beautiful women - a difficult thing to do when you're 17 and look ten. "The business has a very poor wage structure at the bottom, but much better at the trouble-shooting end. I got contracts managing clubs that had drink, drugs and staffing problems and were turning in very very low gross profits. "Then, one Sunday when I was alone in a club, I got robbed. A gang of three hooded men came in and started beating me up. They doused me in petrol and held a Zippo up to my face and threatened to torch me if I didn't open the safe. "At that point, all you're doing is trying to survive and I was so aware of that I couldn't hear the bones breaking." Kerr explains that, two weeks before the attack, his wife had left him - "it's not much of a life when your working day finishes at 7am" - and while he was slowly recovering in hospital from his smashed jaw and broken ribs he was made bankrupt then lost his house and all his possessions, all in a space of five months. Creditors don't hang around, even when you've been earning obscene amounts of money. It was then that Kerr basically quit on life; gave up and developed a massive personal complex. "The nightmares wore off after about six months, but the 'daymares' had a devastating effect," he says. "I would break down when I smelt petrol fumes and on some occasions a particular voice or phrase would have the same outcome. "For the next 18 months, I felt if I just told people my story they'd understand why I had such a chip on my shoulder - who could come back from losing their wife, their home and social standing on top of such a horrific attack?" Sympathetic as people were, they soon tired of his self-pitying and it took a long time to dawn on him that he had an enormous amount of self esteem to build up - for example, for a six-month period he never left the house - and it was his own self he had to face up to. He says: "I was focused on the three men - I saw them as terrorists - and believed I had to overcome my fear of them first before rebuilding my life. I had a crutch in blaming other people over the robbery but then I realised the crutch was me. I think I'm a nice person now but I wasn't a nice person as a nightclub manager." Eventually, Kerr's father persuaded him to sit in on one of his motivational events where he knew another speaker's experiences could influence his release from this self-constructed prison. This guest's previous encounter with huge personal and business challenges made Kerr feel as if his own problems stemmed from little more than a bag-snatch. However, his first reaction was that here was a man who was boasting - and he told him so in a sustained verbal assault. "He was telling everyone he owed his resolve to participation in a race called The Tough Guy," says Kerr. "It's in the Guinness Book of Records as the hardest race in the world. He said, once you've done that you can get through anything. "I flew down his throat - which I'm now ashamed about - but, in truth, it was the first passion I had shown since the robbery. I told him I could do the race; it sounded easy." The Tough Guy isn't as much of a race as a survival ordeal involving physical and mental endurance, which attracts thousands of entrants worldwide every January. He says: "We had to carry a cross weighing 140 pounds for the first mile-and-a-half, then swim in an animal silo covered with ice for 1,000 metres. And, I can't swim. "We had to climb a 45 incline for 2,000 metres and overcome pits of burning oil, barbed wire traps, cattle prods and leech trenches. The final hurdle was seven sewage pipes, each 500 metres long, four of which had no exit, and then you pick up your cross and run the last mile-and-a half-to the finish. "I was 297th out of 7,500 competitors after only eight weeks preparation. I couldn't walk for three days, but I lay in bed with an enormous sense of fulfilment - I had got my self esteem back. I kept thinking, now you can do anything." Kerr is now heavily involved in helping other people to release their untapped potential, and help them achieve the level of success and profitability they desire. His life's work is now concentrated on increasing energy, efficiency, creativity and fulfilling potential - which includes a highly-successful schools programme which he has developed personally. "I did a talk recently for 300 kids over three hours," he says. "I speak like a machine gun and deliver on a frequency that they can relate to. When I got home there were 75 e-mails waiting to say how they had been inspired. I get more out of the schools than anything else I do. "A major challenge we have is that some people are in a rut, a groove; they need a change. The only difference between the words groove and grave is the depth. You can keep on going down a groove until you're six feet under." Kerr is an amazingly energetic, highly-intelligent and extremely likeable individual with an unblinkered focus on life now, but he'll never forget those who have contributed their influence. He says: "I'm often asked who is the most successful person I have ever met. The most successful person I ever met was Amanda Clayton. She was my lollipop lady at school. Her ability was to bring a wee smile to everybody at her crossing. "When she died, 6,000 people went to her funeral - 30 years of kids. Sadly, she wasn't there to see the love she generated." Amanda Clayton fulfilled her potential, though she probably wouldn't have thought of her life in those terms. But, she was an inspiration to Kerr Nicoll and 5,999 others. His role from now is to pass it on. For further information on Watt Nicoll Associates, tel (01560) 600222, e-mail kerr@wattnicoll.fsnet.co.uk or visit www.wattnicoll.com Next month: Alastair Gilmour meets Watt Nicoll. | 
