Moreover, says Jeff Swartz, Kim and Coup were skeptical that their fleet-footed brand would be well served by associating with Big Foot. "The most powerful thing a small company can say is, No," says Swartz. "They said, 'You're not good enough for us because you're fat and middle-aged. We're young and lean.' And we said, 'No, no, we're worthy!" He laughs. At the same time, Kim and Coup rejected their other suitor, feeling their cultures were poorly matched.
And yet, unbeknownst to Kim and Coup, Timberland was fast approaching its own deadline: Pucker, Gary Smith, and Jay Steere wanted to introduce the new trail runner at the August 2006 Outdoor Retailer Show--but they couldn't manufacture it until it had a name. They didn't want to license the GoLite name, and they weren't going to pay Kim and Coup's asking price. Mulling it over, Timberland CFO Brian McKeon dreamed up an unusual solution: Why not buy the GoLite brand and license it back to GoLite? Timberland would sell GoLite shoes; Kim and Coup would continue selling apparel and gear. In January 2006, Pucker floated the idea with Kim and Coup, who were intrigued. Why not, indeed? A deal like that could give them the capital, not to mention the sales muscle, that would enable them to expand domestically and even internationally, where Timberland was strong and GoLite was weak. Moreover, it would leave the founders exactly where they wanted to be--at GoLite's helm. This time, the price negotiations were easy; the two parties came up with nearly the same number (a figure they decline to reveal).
But.
They hadn't wanted to sell.
And the brand, Kim says, "is the company."
"No," says Coup, "it's part of the company."
"Okay," she says, "but it's the essence of the company."
When that kind of ambivalence mixes with a public company's due diligence process--a process that Kim and Coup call "as offensive and violating as invasive surgery"--it can unravel almost any deal. Could GoLite certify its financials? How clean were its global trademarks? With which competitors did it have sponsorship deals? Were all of its URLs solidly in its possession? The process infuriated Kim, who proclaimed, more than once, "I'm outta here," only to be pulled back by investment banker Goldblum and GoLite COO Dan Brillon. "At one point," says Kim, "David sent me a memo saying, 'If you guys say no to this, this will be the stupidest thing you will ever do in your entire career."
Timberland was rapidly approaching its crucial go-no go date: It had to have the brand under its control that spring in order to manufacture the shoes in time to introduce them at the August trade show. With all the details to sort out and the emotions to contend with, Kim and Coup had gone five weeks past Timberland's original deadline. Finally, one day in June, Kim and Coup became convinced that they really had no more time. If they didn't sign by midnight, they believed, Timberland would back out.
Kim signed. Coup signed. They called Coup's father, George, their silent partner, in Boston. His would be the final signature. It was a Tuesday. He wouldn't sign.
What?
"My father is a rational, cerebral, highly intelligent Harvard Law School guy," Coup says. "But he's also superstitious." Coup is trying not to laugh. "Why can't you sign on a Tuesday?" he asks rhetorically. "Because Constantinople fell to the Turks on a Tuesday."
The laugh finally escapes. Greeks, says, Coup, won't sign important documents on Tuesdays.
Pucker and Swartz stretched the deadline one last time, to the following morning. George signed, and the GoLite brand became Timberland's.
At the Outdoor Retailer Show last summer, Timberland did indeed manage to introduce several styles of its new GoLite brand trail running shoe, which Pucker says, were well received. National Geographic Adventure gave one of the shoes, the $95 Sun Dragon, its "Best of the Year" gear award for mountain footwear, calling it "a revolutionary concept" and "the most comfortable and responsive trail runner we've seen in ages." This month, the new line of shoes, along with an "after-sport" casual line, will appear in 100 specialty stores as well as in EMS and, yes, REI. "I thought it was a brilliant strategy," says REI buyer Denise Friend. "GoLite has the entrée into and cachet in the outdoor performance marketplace." (Even so, in an ironic twist, there have been recent rumors that Timberland itself might be up for sale. Neither Swartz nor his team would address those rumors.)
If you visit GoLite's offices today, you'll see just what you would have seen before the deal--team sponsorship posters; a show room overflowing with shirts, jackets, backpacks, water bottles, and base layers; an industrial design shop not much larger than a walk-in closet; and a couple of dogs. Kim and Coup still hike when they can. Kim still serves on the Outdoor Industry Association board. They still know every one of their employees, and they still like to hire them for their athletic prowess--and then figure out something for them to do. Nonetheless, the GoLite staff is well on its way to combining its sales force with Timberland's GoLite team, and GoLite apparel and gear are already debuting in European markets. "Timberland wants to grow GoLite big," says Kim. "They're not talking about a few million dollars."
It may be that Kim and Coup got what every entrepreneur dreams of getting--the fuel, the support, the muscle of a big partner. And the freedom to continue doing what they do best.