Maestro proudly extended his hand. “Joe, would you like to take the baton and lead the orchestra?” “I’d love to.” Joe grasped the baton and slowly walked to the podium. He couldn’t read music but knew Beethoven’s Fifth so well that it didn’t matter. He respectfully smiled to the orchestra, made sure they were prepared and gently asked them if they were ready. Their warmth re昀氀ected back. He lifted the baton and all eyes were on him. Tick, tick, tick, tick…he began the downbeat. He started timidly, but soon the adrenaline was coursing through him, his con昀椀dence growing. He could feel his in昀氀uence over the group, softening then building to a crescendo. His arms were waving, all inhibitions had left him, he and the orchestra were as one. The piece was coming to a close, the musicians were at a fever pitch and with a fury, the movement came to a close. He held the baton in the air, motionless, listening to the last strains of music echo throughout the rehearsal hall. Joe was shaking, sweating, exhausted and exhilarated. Maestro extended both his arms and hugged Joe. Joe still shaking, Maestro softly whispered, “Joe, this is what real leadership feels like — it’s extraordinary.” 17