A Letter for Rob

October 11, 2025The year was 2016. I was a young strength coach, fresh off my first year at Merrimack College. My boss invited me to dinner at the NSCA National Conference in New Orleans with the team from Perform Better.

I had no business being at that table. Sitting with names like Charlie Weingroff and Lee Taft, I was way out of my league. But I wasn’t going to say no to a free meal.

I don’t remember much from that night (except for a photo on my phone of a baby goat in a stroller). But I wish I had more pictures. Because that night was the start of a friendship I’ll never forget.

That was the first time I hung out with Rob Milani.

If you knew Rob, you know what kind of guy he was. He worked at Perform Better, outfitting NFL teams, colleges, and high schools with their weight rooms. But that was just the surface. Rob was larger than life. The kind of person who could make a room better just by being in it.

After I left Merrimack, our friendship grew. Rob was a URI alum, and he made it his mission to take care of us. Anytime I needed something, equipment, parts, advice, he’d have it handled by the end of the day. He’d text to ask how the team was doing. He’d show up at games. He cared about the people behind the program.

When I organized the NSCA State Clinic, Rob opened the doors at Perform Better for us. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to help. That’s just who he was. Whatever you needed, his answer wasn’t “I don’t know.”

It was, “Let me make that happen.”

Losing Rob hits hard. Especially for me, someone who’s already lost his dad too soon. Watching a family lose their rock never gets easier.

But writing these letters has helped me process moments like this. It’s a reminder that when good people go too soon, their impact doesn’t disappear. The lessons they left behind, the way they treated people, the standard they held, that stays with you.

So this one’s for Rob.

Thank you for your kindness, your friendship, and your example.

Keep the Fire Burning,

Leech