What actually happens after you say yes.

Day one · about 20 minutes

A phone call, and no pitch at the end of it.

We watch his film before we ring you, so we are asking about a player we have actually seen. You tell us where he is and what you are hoping for, and we tell you honestly what the research is going to find at that level.

Nothing is sold on that call. We send the link afterwards and you decide in your own time. You have almost certainly been hard-closed by somebody in this business already, and we are not going to be the second.

After you decide · 15 minutes, on the phone with us

Setting up his recruiting email, together.

Everything sends from an address that belongs to him. He makes it on his own phone, keeps the password, and keeps the account long after we are finished, with every coach conversation still in it.

We do this with you on a call, not by sending you instructions. There is one fiddly step in the middle involving Google’s two-step verification, and it is the single place families get stuck and quietly give up. It takes about fifteen minutes with someone talking you through it.

While we are in there we also set up his schedule page, so that is one less thing on your list.

Days one to seven · quietly, in the background

His inbox gets warmed up before it sends anything.

A brand new email account that suddenly sends fifteen messages to fifteen different colleges gets filed as spam by every one of them. So for about a week, before a single coach hears from him, that inbox sends and receives ordinary mail on a normal human schedule.

You will see this happening inside his account, which is exactly why we tell you about it up front rather than letting you find it.

Week one · the part that decides everything

The questionnaire, and why your answers are the product.

We send a long questionnaire about him. Not a form for our files — his actual sentences get lifted into the emails, word for word. A model can invent a lot of things. It cannot invent a real sixteen-year-old saying “I do it for my teammates and for my love of pitching.”

That is the whole anti-template mechanism. Which means a one-line answer becomes a one-line email, and there is nothing we can do downstream to fix it.

Week one

Where a coach can go see him play.

Everything else in an email asks a coach to take a number on faith. A date and a field is something he can put on his own calendar, and it is the one thing in the email he can act on the day he reads it.

You paste us whatever his travel org already sent you — the email, the text, the tournament page, however messy it looks. We do the rest: we build it out into a clean schedule that lives in his own account, and every coach on his list gets the link to it. We never invent a date, and anything we cannot read we ask you about rather than guess.

It stays live. When a tournament gets added in November, you update it and every coach who already has the link sees the change without anything being resent.

Week one to two

The target list, built for him and not padded.

We research programs that actually fit — recent season, roster needs at his position, level, region, academics. Every program on the list comes with a real reason attached, something you can check.

If his list only honestly supports eleven programs, you get eleven. The count is a ceiling, not a quota. Selling you thirty means padding it with schools that were never going to happen, which is the thing this whole business exists to stop doing.

Week two · the invisible half

Finding the right coach, which is not the head coach.

Most families email the head coach. At most programs the person who reads recruiting mail is the recruiting coordinator, then the position coach. We work that order, program by program.

And every address gets checked against the program’s current staff page the day it is used. Coaching staffs turn over constantly, and a bio page that is eight months stale will send a perfect email into a dead mailbox.

Week two

Every email gets written for one school.

Each email is researched live against that specific program — last season’s real result, a developed arm at his position, a conference move, something true and checkable. Then it is written in his voice, at his vocabulary, about that one school.

They are short on purpose. A coach triages his inbox on a phone in about six seconds and reads what survives in under thirty. A long email is a deleted email.

Week two · your turn

You read all of them. Nothing sends until you say go.

We text you a private link to a page with every email on it, in full, with the sources underneath each one. You read them. If something should change — a stat, a phrase, the tone — you write it in the box under that email and we rewrite that one.

Then he hits approve. Not us.

Weeks two to three

They send from his inbox, spread over days.

About ten to fifteen a day, from his own address, in his own name. Not from us, not from a company address, not as a blind copy to forty schools. Every one is its own message to its own person.

You can have every message forwarded to your own email, so you see coach replies in real time rather than hearing about them a week later.

Weeks three to eight · where the replies actually come from

Two more touches, in the same thread.

Most families send one wave in July and stop. By October everyone is tired and the second email never gets written — which is exactly when coaches start looking. The second and third emails are where most responses come from, and almost nobody sends them.

Ours go out in the same email thread as the first, so a coach sees the history rather than a stranger writing again. And they carry actual news: a new velo, a tournament run, a fall season. We will not send a follow-up that has nothing to say.

Throughout

The things that go wrong, handled.

An address bounces. We find whoever holds that job now, and the email is rewritten from scratch for the new coach rather than re-aimed at him. A letter written for one person and sent to another reads exactly like what it is. That fix is included, and it does not count against your program total.

A coach replies. He comes off the follow-up list permanently, that minute. Following up on a coach who already wrote back is the fastest way to undo a good first impression.

A program stops making sense. He grows, his velo jumps, the list should change. Tell us and it changes.

First, the thing that decides all of this

A Division 1 coach cannot legally answer him yet.

Not until August 1 before his junior year. That is an NCAA rule and nobody sells a way around it. Anyone charging you for a full campaign before that date is charging you for something that cannot work.

Division 2, Division 3, NAIA and JUCO have no such rule and can answer him today, at any age. So the whole $300 version is built around the two things that are actually open at his age, instead of pretending the third one is.

Day one · about 30 minutes

The call, and one ask you have to start that week.

Same as any call. We watch his film beforehand, you tell us where he is, and we tell you the date his window opens and write it on both our calendars. Nothing is sold on the call; the link comes afterwards and you decide in your own time.

Week one

The questionnaire, plus four fields nobody has ready.

Same principle as always — his real sentences get lifted into the emails. But at this age we also need the boring fields that college recruiting forms ask for: date of birth, home address, NCAA Eligibility Center ID, and an intended major.

Most sophomores do not have an Eligibility Center ID and have never thought about a major. We flag those up front rather than discovering them on form nine.

Week one to two

Twenty programs, weighted toward who can actually reply.

Researched the same way as any list — real fit, real reasons, never padded. The difference is that at his age we deliberately carry programs that can legally write back this week alongside the D1s who have to wait.

Every program on his page is marked. Can reply now, or replies from whatever month his window opens. So you know which silence means “no” and which means “not yet.”

Week two · the tedious half, done

Every program’s own questionnaire, found, with every answer written out.

College coaches report getting twenty to thirty unsolicited profiles a week from recruiting services and most admit they never open them. A program’s own recruiting questionnaire is different: it feeds the database that staff actually searches when they go looking for his class and position in your area.

We find the real form at every program on his list, and we write out every single answer they ask for on one page with a copy button beside each one. What is left for you is pasting.

Week two

An introduction to each staff, that asks for nothing.

One email per program, researched against that specific school, written in his own words. And then the part that matters: his high school and club coach listed at the bottom, by name and number.

A D1 coach cannot call him. That same coach can call his high school coach and ask about him, at any age, legally. That is the one live door at fifteen, and the email exists to open it.

Week two · the one that works right now

Every program gets told where he is playing.

A D1 coach is not allowed to answer a sophomore. He is perfectly allowed to stand behind a backstop and watch one. Those are two different rules, and almost nobody outside a compliance office knows it.

So along with the introduction, every program on his list gets a link to his playing schedule. You send it to us — paste whatever his travel org already sent you. We never invent an event. It lives in his own account, it stays current, and when a tournament gets added in January every coach who has the link sees it without anything being resent.

Week two · your turn

One page with everything on it.

We text you a private link. On it: the questionnaire list with a tick box and a direct link for each, the answer sheet, where his numbers sit against published standards for his grade, the date his window opens, and every email in full.

He reads the emails. Nothing sends until he approves them.

Six weeks after the emails go out

We find out whether anyone actually called.

Here is the problem with the way recruiting works at his age: if a college coach rings his high school or club coach to ask about him, nobody tells you. The coach takes the call, thinks nothing of it, and the one thing you paid for happens invisibly.

So six weeks in we email his coach one question — has anyone reached out about him — and we email you the answer either way. A no still tells you it is running. A yes is the most valuable sentence of the whole two years, and without asking, you would never hear it.

Between now and his junior year

What to chase, in numbers.

His page shows where he sits against published benchmarks for his grade — exit velo, sixty, fastball, and the general strength targets that scale with his bodyweight. Plus vertical, broad jump and med ball toss, which correlate with bat and arm speed far more than any lift does and which almost nobody tests.

Next spring

We write every program again, with new numbers.

One email is an introduction. Two, six months apart, is a kid a staff has watched get better. The second round carries whatever actually changed — velo, a season, a showcase number.

August 1 before his junior year

Then the real campaign opens, and $150 of this comes off it.

Fifteen programs, three touches each, six to eight weeks — the full version on the other tab. By then those staffs have had his name for two years, his coaches have taken the calls, and he is in twenty databases instead of none.

Your $150 credit comes off it here. The campaign costs you $350 instead of $500. One player, one time.