From no connections to a successful tech career
Tactics and insights from one person's story breaking into the tech world
Thinking about what’s next—whether that be a new job or going out to start your own company—can feel very overwhelming.
While there is no “how-to-manual” that’ll guarantee you a smooth transition, one thing we have found really helps people is sharing transparent and raw stories that paint accurate pictures of the journey. Spoiler alert: the journey of finding a new job or starting a new company is not always as sexy and glamorous as Twitter makes it seem. A lot of the time breaking into a new role is actually quite mundane - lots of small steps that eventually compound into a big opportunity.
Today, we share a hopefully inspiring example - this time from next play community member Bryce McPhail, who built a tech career without having any of the “typical” credentials.
We hope you find his story useful in one way or another - you can email Bryce here: mcphail.career@gmail.com - and if there’s anything we can do at next play (beyond sharing more interesting opportunities like we do every week here), please feel free to send us an email and let us know: hi@nextplay.so.
From Outsider to Product Leader: How I Built a Career in Tech Without the Usual Credentials
I had no technical experience.
I didn’t grow up in Silicon Valley
I didn’t attend an elite college.
I wasn’t a STEM major.
My family was blue-collar and middle class.
I had no startup connections, no recruiter pipelines, and no prestigious internships.
I am not special.
Today, I’m the Head of Product at a startup, where I played a key role in raising a Series A round.
I’ve built multiple zero-to-one and growth-stage products.
I’ve helped a company IPO through the strength of our products.
I’ve led teams of managers, directors, and senior contributors—starting from an entry-level analyst role.
How did I get here without the typical advantages? A mix of luck, discipline, soft skills, adaptability, and most importantly obsession. This is my story, and I hope it can be helpful to you.
The Early Spark
My fascination with startups began in high school. Two things drew me in: the magic of creating something from nothing and the meritocratic nature of startups—like sports, but with even higher stakes. I devoured everything I could find on the topic in all mediums including Zero to One, The Social Network, and Paul Graham’s essays. Inspired, I started a company with my best friend while in college. The company was built around an IT management software that allowed schools to better managed their help desk via smart device management. We raised a small friends-and-family round, built an MVP, and even landed a client through cold outreach. I spent my time that I wasn’t in class or working cold calling and emailing schools’ IT departments, while my cofounder spent his time building out the MVP. This culminated with us landing a demo at an elite private school where the demo was finished during an all nighter the day before. We landed the client and felt the first taste of startup success. After we landed the client, however, my cofounder was recruited for an open FAANG position. Due to his familial circumstances, he decided to take the FAANG role, and the venture stalled.
When my cofounder left, I pivoted to a baseball analytics consultancy, offering Moneyball-style insights to college teams. I pivoted to this because I was, and am, obsessed with the game of baseball. I played the game my entire life until I injured my shoulder my senior year of high school. I fell out of love with the game because I was angry that I got hurt and wouldn’t be able to continue playing, but fell back in love with the game as I learned more about how numbers were being used to find inefficiencies and win. I taught myself how to build out the analytics formulas being used in Major League Baseball, and I built out simple spreadsheets that were “plug and play” for college programs. I learned valuable lessons about understanding your customer and meeting them where they are during this process. It was my job not just to inform these college coaches that I had information that could make their team win more games, but do so in a way that spoke the language of a person who had been coaching baseball for decades and many times did not care about advanced analytics or statistics formulas.
While selling my services, I discovered a database that had every college programs’ coaches and their contact information. I used this for cold emailing and calling, and was able to make connections and service multiple top 25 division one programs. My problem, however, was converting these from users to paying customers. I learned that often times coaches are not making the budgeting or fiscal decisions, and the athletic directors or other administrators are the decision makers. While these programs valued my work, I was not able to generate revenue outside of unpaid staff positions at the universities.. By the time I graduated from a small liberal arts college in Texas, I had no startup, no network, and no real job prospects in tech. Not a great start for someone whose life plan revolved around startups.
The Job Hunt and an Unlikely Break
Determined to break into tech, I applied to thousands of jobs—literally. I was a relatively good student who excelled in every core course I took, and had several side projects to my name. I utilized LinkedIn, Twitter, cold emails, company websites, and even wrote physical letters to my most desired positions. LinkedIn alone tracked that I had sent over one thousand applications. Even at this volume, I received just one callback, and I received zero job offers.
Frustrated but needing a job with benefits before my upcoming wedding, I expanded my search. Eventually, I landed at a healthcare tech company, HMS, as a research analyst. I discovered this role while searching for entry level roles within an hour of my location, and stumbled into this opportunity. I thought I could certainly do the job well, and I hoped that it would allow me to get a foot in the door at a reputable company where I could grow. My role? Manually scanning dozens of government and private websites for RFPs our company could bid on. It was mind-numbingly simple, so I automated my workflow and suddenly had seven free hours a day.
I used that time wisely. I explored other departments. I built new skills. I worked on side projects. Most importantly, I joined an internal innovation initiative called The Guiding Coalition. This program let employees collaborate on high-impact projects with executive sponsors. I joined the “innovation” team, working directly with the COO and CTO to explore emerging technologies.
I pitched a project on blockchain’s potential in healthcare (this was 2017—early days for blockchain in enterprise settings). I led a team, engaged external partners, and presented findings to leadership. By the end, the head of product management pulled me aside and said, “You realize you’ve been doing product management, right? Want to do it full-time?”
I had no idea what product management was. I just knew the answer was yes.
From Healthcare to Fintech
After learning the ropes of product management, I wanted to move into fintech. My single mom had taught me the power of financial independence, and I wanted to build products that empowered people financially.
I joined Populus Financial Group, a private equity-owned company known for check cashing services. It wasn’t the fintech dream job I envisioned, but I saw an opportunity. I pitched, designed, and led the company’s first digital product: a debit card and mobile app aimed at elevating customers from high-fee financial services into mainstream banking.
Despite launching a product I was proud of, I felt constrained. Internal resistance to digital transformation and a desire to test myself in a true startup environment pushed me to move on. Through networking and persistence, I landed a product management role at Alkami, a Series C fintech unicorn. I discovered Alkami by staying on top of the startup ecosystem in Dallas, where I lived. Many city and state publications routinely ranked the best startups to work for in the area, and Alkami was always at or near the top. Through LinkedIn, I discovered a high school classmate of mine worked at Alkami, and I reached out for a connection. By having a connection’s name as a reference, I was able to secure an introductory interview with Alkami, which eventually led to multiple rounds and my being hired.
This was a big leap. At Alkami, I wasn’t just building products—I was part of the “tip of the spear” team tasked with the company’s most complex, high-stakes initiatives. The pace was relentless. The expectations were sky-high. Just a few months in, COVID hit, and we had to adapt on the fly. Then came a pivotal moment: my manager told me I wasn’t meeting expectations.
I had a choice. I could make excuses—or I could own it.
Extreme Ownership and the Road to IPO
I embraced extreme ownership—a leadership principle from Jocko Willink. I learned about Jocko many years back while still in college when he was a guest on the Joe Rogan Experience. I was impressed with Jocko’s calmness, strength, and leadership acumen. This led to me reading Jocko’s writings and following his principles he honed from his years leading special operations in the Global War on Terrorism. Instead of blaming circumstances, I asked: How can I get better? I started working 80-hour weeks, improved my communication, and focused on getting 1% better every day. I stayed later. I came in earlier. I worked every weekend. I proactively communicated up and down the chain of command. I read more books, listened to more podcasts, and searched every avenue for any methodologies I could find that might make myself a better product manager and leader. Most importantly, I embraced putting my team’s mission and my team above myself and my goals. I oriented my entire life around the pursuit of our team goals.
The results were undeniable. My work improved. My team performed at a higher level. We delivered, and our business banking products expanded Alkami’s total addressable market. When Alkami IPO’d, I knew I had contributed meaningfully. But the IPO also made me reflect: I had joined a rocket ship mid-flight. Could I build something earlier-stage and make an even bigger impact?