Loudly, the “Lego Movie” demonstrated how this earthy life is built upon deception and a series of injurious failures, with the slim chance of revolutionizing society or overthrowing a malevolent dictator baked in to stave off utter hopelessness. So it may also be in the boardgoods galaxy, where increasingly it would seem that proprietorship of a deck company is tantamount to some sort of Sisyphean trek in holey vulc-soles, or several pelvic fractures, or maybe just an unfulfilling relationship.
Alien Workshop owners Chris Carter and Mike Hill’s grab for the brass life-ring of corporate ownership devolved into a game of M&A hot potato that may have soured them on the business for life, Jake Johnson said in an interview the other day: “I don’t think these guys wanna do it anymore. I think that they’re pretty pissed off.” Smoothie king Andrew Reynolds, in a separate interview, described running Baker and its affiliates more like a labor of love: “I own some skateboard companies and there’s not that much money in it. I see the truth.” Pontus Alv, owner/operator of by all accounts one of the more successful board companies at the moment, sounds fatigued as he oscillates between evaluating Chinese factories and trying to hold down a pro career: “It’s a shit load of work plus trying to be a team manager, going on a tour, promoting the brand, trying to skate…. I try to work with other people but a lot of times I just end up doing it myself because I can and they don’t have the same vision as me.”
Boards have yet to devolve into unfashionable utilities. The hierarchy of professional image and personal branding dictates that deck sponsors provide meaningful direction that appears to matter to the international footwear conglomerates that riders require to pay various mortgages and car notes and things. Nike, Jamie Thomas says, helped shepherd Trevor Colden from Mystery to the swish-heavy pastures of Skate Mental, and conspiracy theory-minded observers will note that EU comer-upper Karsten Kleppan did a similar two-step from Lakai and Element in recent months.
So are board company owners doing it wrong? The argument has been made that owning professional sports teams should not be a profit-seeking venture, but rather a long-term luxury investment similar to a yacht or bankrolling a Ron Artest CD. Rather than paper dollar bill wads, rewards arrive in the form of grand intangibles and assorted life hammers such as the prestige that comes with fielding a championship team or sweatily mounting a Grammys stage to collect hard-won trophies for hit Ron Artest singles. Sports team owners enjoy earthly delights like fostering relevant cultural memes, cheering as your employees innovate new ways to involve animals in celebrations, and build in the lab with the Pandas’ Friend formerly known as Metta World Peace from time to time.
Former World Industries Chief Financial Officer Scott Drouillard, in a recent interview with Jenkem, described blindly speculating on Florida swampland as preferable to working for a skateboard company, and the rationale for selling out over a decade ago:
All of us had invested all of our wealth in this company, and there were three big factors. One, the overall economy and stock market was at a historic high, going off the scale. Two was our industry… Our industry was blowing up! And knowing it goes in cycles, about 10 year cycles, we knew we were really at the explosive peak of it. Lastly, is how we were managing the company. We were hitting home runs like 3 out of 4 times, and you can’t be expected to continue hitting home runs like that forever.
Viewed through such a lens, does this portray decades-deep boardsportsmen such as Tod Swank, Ed Templeton, Mike Carroll and Rick Howard as grinning masochists? Does Steve Rocco, reclining on some Malibu beach, kick himself for not finagling a stake in the Big Brother-spawned Jackass franchise? Would there be more rap careers if board companies were backed by deep-pocketed benefactors? Would there be worse ones? Are Pat Pasquale and Nick Trapasso employing some Billy Beane-esque algorithm in building the Life Extention team, or only their video soundtracks?
Tags: Alien Workshop, ESPN8 the Ocho, injurious failures dudes, jake johnson, Legos, Metta World Peace, Nike, Ochocinco, Pontus Alv, revenue generators, Scott Drouillard, selling in, the continued fruit diet of Andrew Reynolds, the Deerhunter, World Industries, worldwide panic
boil the ocean 
October 1, 2014 at 10:31 pm |
solid shit, PL. I often contemplate who best fits the Billy Beane comparison. At one point Zoo York’s Shamus seemed appropriate, foisting a hesitant Tierney and a Black Dave onto the ravenous public, in a post-Zered & Eli vacuum, hopeful that personality can suffice to talent… now it seems more like dill and ave over at FA. think of how little they must pay their flashy boys, who in return– do nothing but fulfill the “Spectacle” (Guy Debord shit). Generally any Am-heavy team that makes 6+ pages on slap has some Beane-logic to it.
October 2, 2014 at 5:21 am |
If Andrew Reynolds wants to see Baker/Deathwish more profitable, step 1 would be to cut some of these dudes. That whole camp is almost getting as large as H-Street before they went out of business. Step 2 might be to stop going on tours with 20 – 30 people, and having to pay for three full vans of dudes. Stop putting up with bullshit while on tour like people getting arrested, or some dipshit getting the entire team kicked out of the hotel.
October 5, 2014 at 3:20 pm |
I thought they did just cut a whole bunch of people? Weren’t Kevin Long and Szafranski recently kicked off?
October 13, 2014 at 3:57 am
Yes, they did. They cut Szafranski, Long, and Lenoce – three of the slower sellers I assume – but used it as an opportunity to move up some ams, so there team tally is still about the same.