Let me give it to you straight: Back when I served as the use-of-force trainer for an agency located in a rowdy border county in South Texas, I saw deputies show up to training unprepared, unmotivated and unimpressive — slow on their feet, messy with tactics, mentally disconnected and sometimes just flat out being lazy. But then I’d see those same deputies on the street, acting like they were starring in their own action movie — confidence through the roof, talking a big game that we all knew was not backed up by true skills. All this would get even louder when backup was nearby. Their lack of readiness was conveniently hidden behind the presence of numbers.

But here’s the question I kept asking myself: What if no one shows up in time? What if it’s just you?

Now, I lead training at a state agency’s regional training center, where we work with law enforcement officers from local, state and federal levels year-round. And I still see the same pattern — just different badges, different patches, different jurisdictions. The problem hasn’t gone away; it’s just wearing a different uniform. I keep seeing it at every level. This isn’t an isolated issue — it’s an industry-wide blind spot: overconfidence mixed with complacency.

Your body doesn’t lie. You can convince yourself you’re capable, but when a real threat steps into your space, reality answers the call.

And it’s a recipe for disaster.

I’ve worn this badge for over 20 years. I’ve felt the weight of it physically, mentally and spiritually. I’ve trained thousands of officers and seen firsthand how quickly the illusion of abilities can collapse under real pressure. As a judo black belt, I can tell you: Your body doesn’t lie. You can convince yourself you’re capable, but when a real threat steps into your space, reality answers the call.

And far too many are walking around with false confidence.

Some officers hang their hat on a good firearms qual. Others talk up their DT experience from a class they took years ago. And then there are those who don’t train at all. They rely on the badge, the gear, the title and, yes, their backup, believing that somehow those things alone will carry them when it counts.

Let’s get this clear: The badge doesn’t make you ready — your training and consistent practice do. If your self-image doesn’t match your actual performance, or how your peers perceive you, there’s a problem. A dangerous disconnect. A blind spot that could cost you your life.

I’m not saying you need to be a real-life John Wick; I’m saying you need to be honest. If you’re the jiu-jitsu junkie but freeze up when it’s time to shoot — fix it. If you’re a great shooter but gas out after 60 seconds of a struggle — fix it. And if you’re floating through your career, settling only for free training and whatever other sessions your agency sends you to as your only source of development — wake up. You’ve got to seek your own training.

As a great trainer and good friend once said: “Be a well-prepared LE professional, not the lowest common denominator.” If that hits a nerve, good. You can find more of Todd Fletcher’s wisdom in the October 2024 issue of American Police Beat, in his article titled “Seek your own training.” Read it. Live it. Raise your bar.

Training is the most honest mirror you’ll ever stand in front of. It will humble you — and that’s the point. That discomfort you feel? That’s growth knocking.

Studies back this up. The Force Science Institute consistently points to how, under stress, officers default to their level of training — not their highest potential. The FBI’s LEOKA data makes it clear that most officers killed in the line of duty didn’t have time to react, let alone improvise. You either have the skill, or you don’t.

So here’s what I tell my students and myself:

• Train often. Not just when it’s convenient.
• Train broadly. Don’t just double down on your strengths. Attack your weaknesses.
• Train humbly. Leave your ego at the door.
• Train purposefully. Don’t just check the box — level up.
• Train others. Raise your team. Iron sharpens iron.

And to those already grinding, keep going. You may not get a medal for your effort, but one day, that effort will mean everything — to your partner, to your family, to your survival.

Stop pretending you’re ready because you once were.

Stop pretending agency training alone is enough.

Stop pretending the badge gives you superpowers.

Stop thinking your Punisher decal and your Spartan path make you a warrior.

The truth is, bravery without skill is just bravado. And bravado doesn’t survive real violence.

So train. Relentlessly. Holistically. Honestly. Just train — then keep practicing what you learn during training. Because one day, everything you’ve learned — or failed to learn — will show up in the moment you need it most.

And the mirror won’t lie.