Tee Bee's Tip #2

Have backup product for your key customers.
As space (and your budget) permits, have fill-ins for hot clubs, women's, seniors', lefties, etc..  You don't need a warehouse to score occasional points with loyal accounts who find themselves with a special request.

KING OF THE ROAD

Reprinted from Golf Shop Operations - January, 1995

On a raw, battleship-gray Wednesday in October, as the weather gods wrote another chapter in one of the rainiest years in Georgia history and as morning commuters gingerly made their way over slick roadways from the hills of Habersham to the marshes of Glynn, Tom Brown greeted the new day with a smile and the kind of silver-lined exuberance splash-dancin' Gene Kelly showered on audiences in Singin' in the Rain.

After navigating his 24-foot Born Free van out of the lake-like parking lot at a La Quinta Inn in Augusta and pointing it toward his (give or take) 25,000th visit to a golf shop, Brown, 57 but feeling 27, momentarily took both hands off the wheel then rubbed them together like a man about to attack an eight-course meal.  "Salesman's day," he said, casting a radiant glance toward the dreary heavens.  "Some of my biggest days have come in weather like this."

Tom Brown, "T.B.," knows big days. He also knows long hours and, arguably, as much about selling equipment and apparel to golf professionals and retailers as anybody in the business.  "He is a legend," says Hank Johnson, teaching professional at Greystone G.C. in Birmingham, Ala., and a longtime friend and customer of Brown's.  "I see 90-100 sales reps a year," says Mark Darnell, head professional at West Lake C.C. in Augusta, Georgia.  "Beyond a doubt, Tom Brown is the most professional."

His professionalism pays dividends. In 1994-95 Brown, along with partner Cleve Harris, expects to do more than $10 million in sales to golf shops in Georgia, Alabama and the Florida Panhandle.  While representing white-hot Cobra Golf certainly helps, Brown's success is no overnight phenomenon.  It is the product of three decades in the business, a time during which Brown has built a client list that includes off-course magnate Edwin Watts, PGA Golf Professional of the Year Dick Murphy and Augusta National professionals Bob Kletcke and Dave Spencer.  But that is only part of the story.  As Johnson points out, "The biggest thing Tom Brown does is put the little guys in the position to compete with the big guys."

A little more than eight years ago, GSO traveled with Brown to see the partnership between a sales rep and golf professionals in action.  In October, as GSO prepared this "How to Sell" issue, Senior Editor Tim Murphy spent three days with Brown and filed this feature/diary that shows how much the sales game has changed – and remained the same – as the road to the pro shop has merged with the information highway.

If Tom Brown wasn't born to sell golf equipment, he certainly was predisposed.  In the late ´50s, as he was putting the finishing touches on a junior/collegiate career that included an Illinois Jaycee Junior title and two NCAA appearances as an SMU Mustang, Brown was asked to become an assistant to Errie Ball, the pro at his home club in Oak Park, Illinois.  He wasn't even tempted.  As much as he appreciated hitting a good 2-iron, he was fascinated by how clubs made their way into Ball's shop.  Specifically, he was taken by the work of Harry Adams, a longtime MacGregor salesman.  "Harry was revered by golf pros," recalls Brown en route to a call in which he'll try to sell Dick Murphy, head professional at Atlanta's Peachtree G.C., on picking up Cobra's Como Sport apparel line.  "I remember thinking, ´If I could do that someday, it wouldn't be like working.´  And that's the way it has worked out.  I start at 7:30 a.m. and before you know it, it can be 9 p.m..  I don't think about what day of the week it is.  Time goes by in a blink."

If you could put a radar gun on them, the years Brown has logged in the golf industry have gone by faster than the salesman's Bonneville did as he motored across the highways of Texas, Oklahoma and New Mexico selling Cornell-forged irons for the Arnold Palmer Golf Company in 1963.   "The golf facilities were so spread out," recalls Brown.  "Once you'd get out of Dallas-Fort Worth, it was a long way to the next call.  I'd leave at 5 a.m., stop for breakfast at a truck stop, then put the car on 80 and head west, working crossword puzzles and watching out for stray cattle as I went.  There was no speed limit.  You just had to drive whatever was ´reasonable and proper´ for the conditions.  You could come over a slight rise in West Texas at 85 or 90 and there'd be a Ranger parked on the side of the road. He'd just nod and tip his hat as you went by."

Oct. 11, 11:15 a.m.

While the inside of Brown's van is lined with Burton bags, Kasco gloves, Cobra irons and accessories from AM&E, his agenda is virtually singular: He wants Murphy and Peachtree to join a select list of clubs offering Como Sport's high-fashion apparel – no mean feat given the size of Murphy's shop and, more important, the potential of members balking at a line that directly competes with one named after Bobby' Jones, Georgia's native son and Peachtree's founder.  Brown succeeds.  He emphasizes price differences between Jones and Como.  He has Murphy touch a number of shirts, sweaters, vests, etc.  Murphy particularly likes some microfiber trousers.  "They've got a great feel," the pro says, adding, "Unborn mouse."

Though low-key and unforced, Brown's presentation is as thorough as an F. Lee Bailey closing argument.  He notes that Maureen Kavanaugh, shop manager at Atlanta Athletic Club, has been successful selling Como and Bobby Jones side by side.  He underscores special terms (low minimums, generous dating, floor credit on unsold merchandise) available to Como newcomers.  He then hands Murphy two personalized, graphically crisp proposals – one for Como apparel, one for Murphy, a Henry-Griffitts fitter, to order four sets of Cobra irons.  Both were generated via the notebook computer and the bubble jet printer that have become part of his traveling office.

"Why does this not surprise me?" says Murphy, acknowledging Brown's attention to detail.  After a 7 ½ year stint coordinating sales, advertising and catalogues out of the Palmer Company´s headquarters in Tennessee, Brown went to work for himself - and back to the road - in 1970.  He started with an Olds Vistacruiser, a line of his own shirts and some advice he had picked up from Bob Robinson, his mentor and the man who hired him to work for Palmer. "He taught me the importance of treating the golf professional as a real professional," says Brown. "They are ´professionals,´ not ´pros.´  Your relationship is a two-way street. You need to take care of these guys and become partners with them.  If they've missed the boat with a product, a rep needs to be attentive to that and help them shift their efforts into some stronger areas."

Brown applied Robinson's lessons early and often. Service was high on the list.  "I didn't have any lines in 1970 so I began contracting with Quality Mills, the maker of shirts for Pickering, for shirts made under my own label, 50-100 dozen at a time.  I had my own six-head Gross embroidery machine and a lady who worked with me, part-time at first, then full-time.  Many times I'd be running that machine at 3 a.m., making sure I had shirts ready to deliver to a member-guest tournament the next day.  I didn't want to be a contract manufacturer.  I wanted to be a rep, but, basically, you did whatever you had to do."  From his shirt line and a mixed bag of socks, logoed umbrellas, toboggan caps and headcovers, Brown eventually landed the Pickering territory around Atlanta.  To Pickering and the 27 other manufacturers he has represented over the years, the pharmacist's son brought the kind of work ethic that makes football coaches drool.  "This business isn't a five-day, 9-to-5 situation," says Brown, who, as much as he likes jazz, golf and watching his 17-year-old daughter play the point for the Walton High Raiders, admits his real hobby is his work.  "As an independent rep, I am ready to work whenever my customer will allow me or needs me.  If he needs a couple dozen gloves on Saturday morning, I'm going to try and make sure that happens."

Oct. 11, 12:45 p.m.

On his way to touch base with Jack Sauers, director of golf at Eagle's Landing in Stockbridge, Georgia, Brown makes one of the cellular calls that keeps his monthly bill near $500.  Joe Illescas, whom Brown has hired to explore untapped accounts as well as buttress customer service out of Tee Bee, Inc.'s Marietta, Georgia office, informs his boss that Joe Rullan has asked to cancel future orders.  The Standard Club in Duluth, Georgia, didn't renew Rullan's contract for '95.

Brown's first reaction is for Rullan's well-being. "I'm devastated," he says.  "I really thought Jack was a good fit for that club."

Minutes later, Brown informs Sauers of Rullan's fate and the two discuss how tenuous a golf professional's status can be in the '90s when, for every hat he wears, a pro takes on a new package of pressure.

"It's getting to be like UPS," says Sauers.  "You won´t see a golf professional with gray hair."

Brown's respect for golf professionals is matched by their respect for the way he plies his craft.  "Over the 25-plus years that I have been in golf, I've never met anybody who approached Tom's organization, professionalism and service," says Johnson, who has known Brown since 1977.  "He knows he has the same relationship with his customers that a professional has with his members.  He has to sell them over a long period of time, not just once.  The market's captive, but it's also limited. You have to create relationships for there to be business."

Trust, hard-earned and time-tested, is at the heart of Brown's relationship with customers, according to Johnson.  "He is the only (sales) person whose advice I would rely on almost completely. He never made a mistake.  A lot of times we would have different opinions, but he wouldn't just push me toward a larger order when I didn't think it was appropriate.  He'd also cut back my order if he thought I was being too aggressive.  He is pretty unique."

In particular, Brown sets himself apart by knowing the nuances of a given club´s membership and how that applies to a professional's needs (read: bottom line).  "Most of the salespeople who have called on me over the years have had as their first priority getting a bigger share of the market that I was already servicing," says Johnson.  "They always wanted to sell me more of their product.  Tom is creative at helping a professional sell more of a product line.  If I'm selling 100 dozen shirts a year, 50 from one supplier and 25 each from a couple of others, Tom would come in and show me how to sell 200 dozen shirts.  He wouldn't try and get part of the market I already had.  Getting someone to change manufacturers without increasing sales volume doesn't help professionals.  Tom helps."

Brown, recalling a line Johnson has used on him dozens of times, also knows that it doesn't take much for the currency of trust between a rep and a pro to devalue like penny stock.  "Hank always had a cautionary phrase," notes Brown.  "He'd say, 'We're doing good, T.B., but you're only as good as your last performance.'"

Oct. 11, 4:30p.m.

Brown, who says a good day on the road is two calls in the morning, two in the afternoon and, occasionally, a days-end dinner with a golf professional and his wife, doesn't stop for lunch.  He will put up to 40,000 miles on his Born Free each year.  He added 60 between Sauers' club and Reynolds Plantation in Greensboro, Ga., where, prior to a wrap-up call on Jeff Maynor at Port Armor Club, he will make Como and Cobra presentations to Rick Dodd, Reynolds' director of golf, and head professional Tom Fowler.

As loquacious as Murphy had been at Peachtree, Dodd is quiet, almost studious.  He listens as Brown describes how Cobra and Como hooked up last April. He nods as Brown gives the specifics on Como's jersey lisle and pique shirts.  And when, mid-presentation he asks, "This a new van, Tom?" Brown doesn't miss a beat.  He changes gears, handles the query, and then takes the professional through the rest of the line. Dodd accepts the Como offer.  He holds off a decision on a 10-set order of Cobra irons, that despite Brown's mentioning Cobra will double its TV advertising to $10 million in ´95.

Neither the road nor the vagaries of the golf market appear to have taken a toll on Brown.  Quite the contrary.  At a time when others his age might be readying for early retirement, Brown says he has found a new energy.  The tonic: Cobra's rising fortunes coupled with his own eagerness to incorporate computers and electronic sales aids into his business.

"The last three years have been a rocket ride," says Brown.  As Cobra product has taken off and accounted for a substantially bigger part of his sales, Brown has maintained his old-fashioned touch by availing himself of many of the information age's latest devices.  An 800 number, a laptop computer, a Fax, a sophisticated printer and custom software that allows him to customize data on clients are all part of his office on wheels.

"Networking is so important.  This is an industry built on relationships," he says.  "Part of the fun is what these tools allow me to do. I can generate a letter from a personal computer and fax it to the customers I need to reach in a matter of moments.  That kind of thing would have been unfathomable 15 years ago."

The lesson for Brown is as clear as a laser-printed letter.  "If you turn your back on the computer age, you're not going to keep up. No one is going to wait for you." he says.

Oct. 12, 6:15 a.m.

With a near monsoon beating on the roof of his van, Brown is already on the job, typing Como orders from Murphy and Dodd, which he will Fax to Cobra's Carlsbad, California offices.  He looks forward to converting to a computer program that will eliminate the paperwork and allow him to place orders directly from his laptop.

The weather allows Brown to schedule a last-minute visit with Red Price, the head professional at Forest Hills G.C. in Augusta.  Brown drops off some Cobra literature, checks Price's glove order from Kasco and listens as Price recounts the green-grass version of the big one that got away: a customer who loved the Cobra demo set Price had gotten via Brown… and then bought elsewhere.  Price, a PGA member since the early '60s, shrugs.  "Hey, at least we helped make him happy," he says. "Maybe next time."

Relationships, not computer-efficient logistics, dictate how Brown and Harris work their three-state territory.  Cobra, according to Brown, has suggested the pair divvy up their turf geographically, thus maximizing their time.  Brown has respectfully declined, choosing instead to have Harris, nearly 30 years his junior, work with younger professionals while he maintains the network of customers he has built up over the years.  "It means more miles," says Brown, "but this is a better match."

Oct. 12, 9:55 a.m.

Brown swings his Born Free into a Sam's Club to check a report that five sets of King Cobras have shown up on the discount store's shelves.  He is hoping to trace the clubs' entry into his territory.

Brown, it turns out, is a better salesman than sleuth.  Carrying oversized, less-than-clandestine umbrellas emblazoned with the King Cobra logo, he and a companion never make it inside the store.  They aren't members, and the store won't open to visitors until later.

Plan B goes into effect.  Brown moves on to the nearby Pro Golf Discount, which, as is Sam's, is located off a road named for Augusta hero Bobby Jones.  Before Brown and storeowner Pete Runyan move into the van to discuss senior and women's King Cobras, the rep is introduced to Runyan´s club repair specialist and partner.  Runyan and his partner have been monitoring King Cobra sales at Sam's and say that just a single set remains.  Both are surprised to learn that Cobra has been putting a serial number on its 5-irons since 1993.  About an hour later, Runyan´s partner returns from Sam's with news that the serial numbers have been buffed off.  The good news is the amateur detective secured some numbers off a packing slip and those should help Brown's investigation.  If there's a Hardy Boys episode in this intrigue by the Bobby Jones Expressway, Runyan's partner deserves a prominent part.

His name? Bobby Jones.  Honest.  Brown has little difficulty getting Runyan to fill in his Cobra order.  The latter's big concern is that everything arrive before Christmas.  Brown reassures him and then passes along a tidbit he might share with Pro Golf shoppers: George Bush is playing King Cobra's senior oversize irons and woods.

"Better than if people see Clinton using them," says Runyan.

There are a number of reasons why Brown and his wife, Donna, TeeBee, Inc.'s VP, have been successful so long.  High on the list is Brown never assumes business.  He cultivates it call by call, order by order.  Any other approach would be foolish, he´ll tell you.

"Our industry is getting more and more like other industries," he says.  "It seems like my first 20 years or so, you had the MacGregors, the Wilsons, the Spaldings and everything else kind of stayed the same.  In the last 10 years there have been so many new companies, many of them bringing in good product – product that needs to be good because the size of the pie is not nearly as big as the companies going after it.  Today's professional can't have 10 shirt lines.  He has to select a few and do as well as he can with those.  If one's not working, he has to try another.  There's a pecking order.  You just hope your company stays in his rotation."

Oct. 12, noon Brown visits Brooks Simmons at Jones Creek in Evans, Georgia.  Though a longtime customer, Simmons will not be taking on the Como line.  It is not, he says, a good match for his daily fee players and their wallets.  "I guess you had time on your hands," kids Simmons.  "But I do appreciate your coming by."

By 2:30 or so Brown and Augusta CC head professional Mike Reynolds are shaking hands on a deal that will bring Reynolds´ club into the Como set.  Before Brown leaves Augusta to put the finishing touches on a 15-hour day with a dinner meeting in Atlanta, Reynolds offers a testimonial, which fits the salesman even better than the bright red Como vest he is wearing.

"This man's record speaks for itself," he says.  "He's the best we've got."