Phill loved that answer.
He’d built the coach to talk to him exactly like that.
But it didn’t start with a coach. It started with a few GPTs he kept opening every day.
The vault
On one of the group calls, Andrew mentioned he had a whole library of custom GPTs, ChatGPT assistants set up for one job each.
"You’re like, hey guys, I got like a whole vault of GPT projects."
Phill went through them.
"I was leveraging like five of them, right?"
Three became part of his day. He used them for cold emails and for the standard replies every business sends over and over.
He wrote down what that did.
"I use three of your custom GPTs almost daily—for cold emails and standard responses. They’ve saved me 2-3 hours a week, and my copy is sharper, more consistent, and feels much more aligned with my voice."
Two to three hours a week isn’t a headline.
It is a hundred-plus hours a year, on writing nobody enjoys.
And notice the last part. More aligned with my voice. Faster writing that doesn’t sound like you isn’t a saving. You just end up rewriting it.
Three automations
The GPTs saved Phill’s own hours. The next win saved his team’s.
Phill ran his business with virtual assistants. He started connecting tools with automation platforms called Make.com and Boost.space.
"I now have three solid automations running, which are helping my virtual assistants create content much faster and more efficiently."
Same people. Same hours. More done.
Side by side
Then Andrew said something offhand that sent Phill off on his own.
"You’re like, you can test this out with different platforms..."
Don’t just take the GPT as given. Try the same thing in Claude. See which one does it better.
So Phill did exactly that.
"And so I created a GPT, and I created a project in Claude, and I did the exact same thing side by side. And then I was realizing, oh, wow, I like GPT for this, but I like Claude for that."
That’s a small moment. It’s also the moment Phill stopped being someone who used Andrew’s tools and started building his own.
The coach
Phill had been paying coaches by the hour.
It was expensive, and it ran on someone else’s calendar. Once, a coach he’d paid didn’t even show up.
"One of them didn’t even show up and they apologized."
From Andrew, Phill had picked up a trick. Turn a mountain of material into small, tidy text files, and an AI can hold far more of it at once.
So he fed it a library.
"I was able to take an entire YouTube channel, multiple webinars, about 50 blogs..."
He broke all of it into small files and loaded them into a Claude project.
Now he had a coach who was always in.
"I haven’t had to pay $100 to $500..."
That was the old hourly rate.
"I’m getting good advice. I’m getting ideas. I’m getting ways to do my business smarter, better."
There was a calmer side to it too. He said it brought his anxiety levels down. He didn’t have to wait a week for an appointment. He could ask from his phone at any hour.
The brutal one
Then Phill gave the coach a personality.
One of Andrew’s GPTs was a copywriter with no patience at all.
"Because you’re like, this is going to be a brutal copywriter. And this brutal copywriter, pretty much smacks you in the face."
Phill realized that was exactly how his own industry talks.
"You pay me big money to tell you the truth. And I don’t have time to pamper you or coddle you."
So he gave his coach a direct order.
"I need you to be like Andrew’s brutal copywriter."
He added three or four of the toughest commercial real estate coaches he could find, and told it to study how they talked.
Which is how a fifty-something broker ended up complaining to software about his week, and getting told off.
"The coach came back and said, what are you crying for?"
He loved it.
Seven people
The coach wasn’t the only bill that went away.
Phill had been paying freelancers on Fiverr. Someone for his website. Someone to move him onto WordPress. Someone to scrape contact data. Someone for graphics. Someone for PowerPoint slides. Someone for SEO.
One scraper wanted $450 a month.
Then he tried something.
"Let me try and see if I can replace this person I paid on Fiverr and leverage it with AI and it worked."
He did it again. And again.
"Holy crap, I just replaced seven different people I was paying."
He wasn’t sentimental about it.
"I’m sure people on Fiverr are hating life right now."
What it adds up to
None of these is the kind of win that ends up on a billboard.
Three GPTs. Two or three hours a week.
Three automations.
A coach in his pocket.
Seven freelancers he no longer needed.
But add them up and you get a different kind of business owner. One who doesn’t rent help every time something needs doing, because he knows how to build the help himself.
Andrew showed him the first few tools.
Phill kept building.
And when he slipped, he’d built himself something that wouldn’t let him get away with it.
"What are you crying for?" </content>