George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He could spot good talent, though.
Several of the cabin boys he’d found at local schools had grown up to become great pirates.
George was proud of them, even though they weren’t exactly proud of owing their careers to George.
George would send them birthday and Christmas cards, out of genuine fondness, not out of some selfish attempt to network.
And those pirates would open the envelope, read the card, and know that someone cared and remembered them.
Even if that someone was an incompetent, bumbling screw-up like George.