Who is Sean Finter?
Today, I’m a bar and restaurant coach—but not the kind you’re used to.Let’s face it: the industry is overrun with “coaches” and “consultants,” many of whom have never actually succeeded at what they’re teaching. That’s bullsh*t. You wouldn’t hire a running coach who’s never done a 5K, so why trust someone who hasn’t been in the trenches?I didn’t graduate from a prestigious business school or work for McKinsey. In fact, I didn’t even finish high school. My education came the old-fashioned way: grit, hustle, relentless learning, and a whole lot of messy trial and error. As a teenager, I had nothing to lose, so I went all in. When my friends went to college, I followed advice from early mentors and apprenticed under some of the best operators and consultants in the only industry I ever felt at home in—hospitality.
After a transformative two-year stint at Hard Rock Café in Toronto, I moved to London and immersed myself in the global hospitality scene, working in or visiting dozens of countries. For six years, I prioritized mentorship over sexier roles and higher pay, taking positions that offered hands-on learning with world-class operators. I was given more opportunity than I deserved and I worked hard to produce results. I learned a fundamental truth: the best businesses in the world are brilliant at the basics. Mastering fundamentals might not be glamorous, but it’s the foundation for leverage, scale, and profit.
At 26, I decided to put everything I’d learned to the test. I moved to Sydney, Australia, and bought my first restaurant out of bankruptcy for $1, along with its debts. Over the next six years, I turned it around, acquired seven more properties, and built a team that consistently outperformed the market. By 33, my group employed 396 people and generated $32 million annually.
From the outside, I was living the dream. But inside? I was barely holding it together. Working 100-hour weeks, fueled by Coca-Cola, Red Bull, and food that could be consumed on the run between meetings, I gained nearly 100 pounds, grew distant from my family, and spiraled mentally. Despite my exhaustion, I couldn’t sleep, and stress consumed me.Yet I had a smile on my face to the rest of the world.
During a physical for Key Man insurance, my doctor bluntly said 14 words that changed my life: “If you keep this up, you won’t live to see your kids get married.” My heart was working way too hard and my diet was terrible. I tried to sell him, but he doubled down: “I see young entrepreneurs as young as you, in far better shape than you die every year. You’re on a deadly path.”Walking out of his office, I broke down in the park across the street. My world cracked open. I realized the life I’d convinced myself was necessary for success was unsustainable. Sacrificing my health, time, and relationships wasn’t the price of success—it was a delusion. I needed to make changes- fast.
Five months later, I sold my entire group of bars and restaurants. It was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made. On the one hand, I felt like I was just hitting my stride (my “plan” was to own 100 properties because, well, 100 sounded cool). On the other, I felt like I was letting my team down but I knew that my doctor was right. Add to that I didn’t recognize—or like—the person I’d become. I needed to rediscover the people, places, and things that mattered most. How I Accidentally Became a Consultant But I wasn’t ready to leave hospitality entirely and the truth is that I had no where to do- hospitality had been my like since I was 12. Before selling my bars and restaurants I made a promise to help 10 other owner-operators avoid the traps I’d fallen into. That promise became Barmetrix, the consulting firm I started on my kitchen table with a laptop, a kitchen scale, and a spreadsheet. Over the next two decades, that little firm served more than 10,000 businesses across 28 cities in 8 countries. I sold the company in 2022, but its impact continues.
As a lifelong motorcyclist, I’ve never feared death the way a healthy human does. But one flight over the Rockies changed that. When the plane hit an air pocket, it dropped violently, throwing unbuckled passengers two rows back and sending overhead locker bags flying. 3 minutes after it ended it happened again, even worse. Oddly, I felt calm, convinced it was the end.Then I was overcome with guilt: I haven’t written down my life’s experiences for my kids in the event I went too soon.Before we even landed, I started feverishly scribbling. Over the next five weeks, I poured out everything I’d learned, creating the first version of what became ‘Business of Bars’. That book became the foundation for video courses taught in 50 countries, transforming me from a high school dropout to an global educator of public company executives, owners of bars and restaurants and hundreds of thousands of industry staff. My partnership with Diageo on this project allowed me to scale the program in a way I never would have imagined. I traveled to over 30 countries myself to roll out the program. Forest Gump had struck again!
Coaching is the best job I’ve ever had. In this final chapter of my professional career, I’ve chosen work I’d happily do for free if I were retired. But here’s the thing: free advice gets ignored. My clients pay me upfront, and I pay them back with results—a kick-ass return on investment.I’ve always had coaches myself (I have two today). In business, hiring a coach is like installing a system for success: you get a professional’s perspective, avoid costly mistakes, and accelerate growth.Coaching lets me help others sidestep the landmines I stepped on. It’s about enabling clients to achieve what they thought was impossible—and lighting the fire to make it happen.
Group coaching is where transformation happens. In a small group, you learn from me—but also from dozens of others at different stages in their journey. It’s a force multiplier.For private issues, I make time for one-on-one calls, but group coaching provides unparalleled accountability, insight, and support.If I can’t help, usually someone in my vast network can.
I’m a father of four who learned the hard way what it means to sacrifice too much for success. My mission is to show others they don’t have to choose between thriving businesses and thriving lives.Hospitality isn’t just about food and drinks. It’s about connection, community, and creating extraordinary experiences. Success starts with being in touch with yourself and seizing the moment. At my funeral, no one will say, “He should’ve taken his shot” or “He should’ve lived more.” Life is too short to sit on the sidelines. Let’s get to work.