Bringing space-age technology to the world of sporting goods lets tiny Worth Sports Co. leapfrog its giant competitors and capture a new market
Each spring, before the dogwood blooms at the nearby Jack Daniel Distillery, the white Dodge vans -- emblazoned with the Worth Sports Co. logo and filled with bats and balls -- pull out of the company headquarters in Tullahoma, Tenn., and hit the road. Before spring training in March, through the season, and past the World Series in October, Worth's salesmen travel, mile after mile, ballpark after ballpark; singing along with Willie Nelson over the hum of the fuzzbuster; packing and unpacking the Tennessee Thumper and Ball Buster bats, the patented Poly-X balls and Doc Joc batting gloves; preaching the company's gospel.
"Let me show you this," the salesman will say, bouncing the ball in front of him. The company has pictures and statistics to document the ball's liveliness and durability. But bouncing the ball a few times still seems to work best. Then he will cut one open, slicing through the hand-stitched leather to the patented polyurethane core.
"Try this," he will insist, thrusting two 34-ounce bats, handle first, into the prospect's hands. "Both bats feel the same, don't they?" That is the old way to buy a bat: total weight.
"Now try this," he will say, retrieving the bats, reversing them, and thrusting the barrel end into the outstretched hands. "One feels heavier, doesn't it? That's how much weight you can put behind the ball." Worth calls it Swing Weight. It is a trademark, and it is the new way to buy -- and sell -- a bat.
A few bats and balls given away, a visit to the local sporting goods store, a promise to check back next time he comes through, and back on the road. For a few days in spring training the salesman may rub shoulders at camp with the Carlton Fisks and Mike Schmidts of the world, but that is the extent of the glamour. For every overpaid pro in center field's sunshine there are thousands of would-be Reggie Jacksons on college campuses, on Little League fields, and on neighborhood softball diamonds. That is where the real market is. In 1982, the estimated 30 million softball players in the United States bought roughly 12 million balls. Nearly 5 million bats (for both baseball and softball) were bought the same year. So the salesman will drive, and he will talk with coaches and athletic directors, park and recreation officials, and every player he can find.
"We're a small company," marketing manager Ted Savage insists. "We can't afford a huge advertising budget -- the dollars just aren't there. So we had to become backwoods evangelists instead."
The technique may be old-fashioned, but it fills the company coffers. Last year Worth had more than $30 million in sales, up from $4 million -- about 650% -- in just over a decade. Ten years ago Worth's main market was in low-grade baseballs, but that market disappeared. The baby-boom generation grew up, changing from Little League players to slow-pitch softball devotees, with dollars, not dimes, to spend for equipment. But Worth thrived, introducing new products for the newly quality-conscious consumer, products innovative enough to let Worth leapfrog such well-known competitors as Hillerich & Bradsby Co., the manufacturer of Louisville Slugger, and Dudley Sports Co.
The Worth salesmen may travel like itinerant preachers, but they carry spaceage sporting goods in their vans: swing-weighted aluminum alloy bats and patented Poly-X softballs. Parish knew that Worth could never compete with Louisville Slugger bats and Dudley softballs at their own game. So he changed the way the game is played.
Tullahoma, Tenn., halfway between Nashville and Chattanooga, is hardly your typical sleepy southern hamlet. You can still buy overalls in the Dollar General Store and savor hickory-smoked ribs at Piggy's Place Pit Bar-B-Que over by the Church of Christ, but the tract houses, Taco Bells, and shopping malls of today have grown up around the core of the old town. The Arnold Engineering Development Center, an Air Force research and development facility, employs nearly one-third of the town's 15,000 people. That craggy-faced man in the Caterpillar hat driving the Jeep down Jackson Street is more likely to be a PhD engineer than a dirt farmer.
Lannom Manufacturing Co, Worth's corporate parent, has grown in much the same way as the town, grafting the new to the traditional for three generations. In 1912, when George S. Lannom bought the tannery that still stands, ramshackle and redolent, on Rock Creek near the center of town, his goal was never simply to sell leather. The tannery was to be his supplier, first for the manufacture of horse collars, then, when the automobile killed that market, for the baseball manufacturing facility he set up in 1919 on the second floor of a Tullahoma drugstore. He believed in vertical integration -- raw materials from the tannery and the mill, a manufacturing facility, and a strong sales force. Eventually Lannom would expand into gloves and shoes to maximize use of the tannery, and he would buy a wool mill to produce the baseball windings. While the glove and shoe line have been sold, the concept remains. The tannery still operates, and the company has added two saw mills to provide wood for the bat division. The development of new product lines -- the sport bag developed eight years ago, for example -- builds on this supply and manufacturing strength.
John Parish -- president of Lannom Manufacturing, who has temporarily stepped aside as chief executive officer to work as Commissioner for Economic and Community Development for the state of Tennessee -- has kept many of Lannom's old-fashioned values. The company has stayed family owned, governed with a stern financial hand. Parish preserved the vertical integration that was his grandfather's creed and the aggressive salesmanship that was his father's faith. But he added his own belief in the blessings of R&D.
