by Sean Oliver
There have been exceptions to that perception, of course. Apple was, at one time, a big business filled with passion. Their Blood, infused by co-founder Steve Jobs, was evident by the success and innovation of their product line. Jobs’s personal beliefs in simplicity in both design and function—serving the user’s desires (whether or not they knew they even desired them)—became the entire brand.
They committed to Jobs’s unique vision beyond just product. Their marketing reflected that passion, producing ads that remain bold and unforgettable, even thirty years later. Go and YouTube their ad “1984” or “Here’s to the Crazy Ones.” I’ll forfeit my man card here and admit that the latter ad has brought me to tears. It’s beyond an advertisement. It is a manifesto for Jobs, his company, me, probably you if you bought this book, and so many others. That “Crazy Ones” commercial has two versions with two different narrations—one by Jobs and one by Richard Dreyfus. Watch the Dreyfus one. It’s better.
Only a company filled with passionate developers, programmers, technophiles, and artists could so successfully meet the needs of their audience. They were the underdogs at one time, dwarfed by the massive market share owned by the PC companies. Apple users were not consumers—they were fans, a gang. Today they’ve become the giants, but at one time they were the cool minority.
In short, Apple was their market. They were developing products for themselves. The folks at Apple were passionate fans of their field. Most of their employees would probably have been consumers of Apple products even if they weren’t employed there. They were fans first, who got lucky enough to land jobs in a field and at a company about which they were passionate. Therefore, they’d intrinsically know the answers to questions that they would face in product development.
When deciding to launch Kayfabe Commentaries, Anthony and I had The Blood working in a dual track. Our passion was both wrestling, as fans of both the product, as well as the aftermarket offerings like newsletters and shoot interviews, and also professional production. My background in film and television, on both sides of the camera, positioned us to have an advantage in that aspect of what became our market segment.
I was a long-time pro wrestling fan, as was Anthony. He had experience in production and computer programming. There were a host of elements working for the embryonic KC there. We didn’t really know any of this in 2007 when we decided to find wrestlers, bring them to a hotel room, and record Mystery Science Theatre-style commentary tracks for wrestling matches. We were fans. We thought of a product we wanted to own. So we made it.
We had no business plan. We hadn’t even incorporated. Who had time for that shit—we had lightning in a bottle. We just wanted to make it.
So against all practical business advice, I got on the phone, found some guy named John Mills from Indiana who was advertised as a cat that booked talent. It was literally that fast—about an hour’s worth of discussion with Anthony, assurances that he had the equipment to record and sell these downloads, and I was dialing Mills after finding his name on the late Georgianne Makropolis’s website. It was probably better that I had no formal business training, because all that would have gone right out the window the moment I ventured into wrestling production.
The Blood as my guide, I cut a sideways deal with John Mills for the services of both The Honky Tonk Man and Greg “The Hammer” Valentine. I say sideways deal because in essence, by going through Mills and the talent directly, I bypassed the promoter that was bringing them out to my area to work some shows. Did I know protocol exactly? No. But did I know someone else was footing a bill for airplane tickets, hotel rooms, and food while they were out here? Of course. You can read all the details in my book Kayfabe, wherein I outline the entire escapade.
We went through elaborate plans to avoid that promoter and get our product. That promoter footing the bill was Super Agent Eric Simms, and I wish I’d avoided him better. Jesus, he actually just texted me as I write this. I’m not put him over and telling him that he was making his way into yet another of my books. He’ll become more unbearable.
In truth, he became indispensable to our company and we ended up working with Eric for years and years afterwards.
But back in January 2007 while getting ready to buy some gear and make rock and roll in the garage, we didn’t know all the things that are so important in building a sustainable business, like branding, marketing, customer service, or any of that shit. But we had The Blood, man. I knew if I sat down in front of a microphone and chopped it up with these guys, we’d have a product that fans as passionate as me and Anthony would love. If we loved it, fans would probably love it too. It would be just like them sitting there conducting the interview. We all shared The Blood.
Also in that Blood was my fastidiousness for production. We would be mic’ed well for our initial mp3 products, and lit, shot, and produced well for our videos, which would come soon after our launch.
So wouldn’t you prefer to buy your pro wrestling programming from a company passionate about both the sport and the elements of production? I thought a company like that would have a good shot at making greatly entertaining programming. And I think we delivered from the get-go. Within a year of our having launched our Guest Booker, YouShoot, and My Side of the Story series, people in the business were coming up to me asking “Where did you guys come from?”
So as a passionate entrepreneur, you’re ahead of most big businesses already, in the category that matters most—your product. How’s that for a shot of confidence up front?
Some of the talent we worked with early on could see what was to come. Before we had any inkling of just how influential we’d become, I heard JJ Dillon on an Internet radio show discussing his forthcoming appearance on our show Guest Booker. He saw the innovation in the concepts we had in the hopper—we hadn’t even released our second series YouShoot yet. But we mentioned the concept to him, as well as My Side of the Story. On that radio show, JJ said we had some groundbreaking things coming for the wrestling aftermarket. We didn’t put him up to that.
The Honky Tonk Man was another guy that could feel the winds would soon blow at our back. He was our first guest on our now-signature series YouShoot, and shortly after we shot that episode, we ran into him again at a hotel bar in Carteret, NJ. We were killing time while waiting for Greg Gagne’s delayed flight to land in Newark and Honky arrived at the hotel. The bar was filled with fans, other shoot companies, and wrestlers. When Honky came in, he bypassed the room and pulled up at our table.
“You know you guys are gonna have the best thing out there,” he lead off with. I don’t even think he said hello. It was like he’d been thinking about telling us this. “You got the fans participating in this and asking us all the questions. That’s gonna be where it’s at.”
He saw it. Where’s The Blood? It’s with the fans, obviously.
2. Know Your Market, Part I: Know it Like a Fan
I’D MISSED BILL APTER’S call. The venerable editor of pro wrestling’s finest magazines back in the day had left me a message saying he had an idea he wanted to run by me. I love Bill. Not only is he wrestling’s most prized journalist, he’s a great performer and a true entertainer. Bill was our Roastmaster for our Ring Roasts series so anything he had to pitch me, I was ready to listen to.
About a year prior to this phone call, Bill pitched me a show that would have been fun to attend, but one we could never record or sell. Bill has a fondness for karaoke, as anyone who attended the taping of YouShoot LIVE: Dixie Carter can tell you. Our guest of honor was late getting to the venue so I asked Bill to entertain the crowd and within ten minutes, the sport’s most respected authority was standing on chairs singing Sinatra and doing duets with KC wack packer, The Hess Express.
So a year prior to the missed call, Bill pitched me a live show wherein wrestlers did karaoke. That was an easy rejection—we couldn’t sell the songs that were being performed. We didn’t have the rights. Might be a fun night out for Bill and some of the boys, but it wasn’
t a show for us. But Bill had a year to cook up something new so I was anxious to get back to him and find out.
“Hey Sean,” he began, “I have an idea for a live show that we can shoot on the Friday night before a convention so all the wrestlers in town can participate.”
“Okay, like we did for the roasts and the YouShoot: LIVE,” I said.
“Right. We can get the bar at Yogi’s in the Crowne Plaza and set up a stage. I’ll have the wrestlers come in for the show and we can do karaoke with them.”
I thought someone hit rewind on the tape deck playing out my life.
I re-explained the licensing issues and how that wasn’t something KC could sell. But more than that, as a fan, I’d be amused for about ten minutes of watching Fred Ottman do “That’s Life,” or perhaps a haunting rendition of “Turn, Turn, Turn” performed by Smith Hart. After those ten minutes though, I’d be questioning why I spent $20 on this show. It wouldn’t sit well beside copies of YouShoot or Guest Booker on the DVD shelf.
Just like those passionate Apple employees, you have to know your market from the place of a passionate fan. That’s The Blood. When you know a market so intimately, there are no big surprises. You’re so much more prepared to deal with the myriad of issues, obstacles, and wonderful challenges posed by working on products that you love as a fan. You’ll know your market like you know a loved one. (You’ll also need to know it like a scientist, but that’s coming later, thus the Part I here.)
Intimate, enhanced market knowledge has many benefits. It goes beyond cold data, and I’d argue that it can’t be learned without a passionate, personal investment.
Let’s take an example of a fisherman. Fishing is in his blood. He’s been fishing since he was a little boy—his first trip to the lake having been 25 years ago with his father. They would fish for hours and his father would help pass the time by regaling the young boy with tales from his own boyhood fishing trips with his father. By osmosis, there is much more than a mechanical learning that is taking place. The boy is ensconced in a culture of fishing. The sagely advice and associative instincts are being infused into his very soul.
The aforementioned mechanical learning is also very important. As the boy grows, the feel of the rod, the amount of bait, the seasonal advantages to fishing in certain months, the feel of a bite—all of this information is being seeded and reinforced over and over again. It becomes etched in the subconscious. Let your child bang on the piano keys if they show an interest in it. Something is happening there.
As this fisherman grows from boy to adult, he’s invariably had successes and also mistakes from which he’s learned. He’s honed his craft. He sees it as so much more than a hobby, due to all of the mechanical and cultural reinforcement. It is part of his life, both his conscious and subconscious. It is The Blood.
When this fisherman takes an entrepreneurial plunge and opens a fishing supply store, will he not be at a huge advantage? Of course, we’re all nodding our heads. We didn’t even have to pause and think about that one.
But why were we so instinctively certain as we answered?
It is because we trust The Blood, and we all do so very much by intuition. We can quickly spot a car salesman that doesn’t love cars. He’ll likely not make a sale to us. Your customers will also identify you and your company’s Blood.
If we open our scope a bit we realize the extent to which this fisherman knows his market. We tend not to think of our passions in a business framework, but do so for a moment and let it take us as far as we can conceive. Consider how many aspects of the market this fisherman has touched and acquired an enhanced knowledge of. We’ll hit the obvious ones right away—he likely knows everything there is to know about fishing rods and which bait and lures work well with certain types of fish. But let’s go deeper. He’ll have enhanced market knowledge of:
• Boats well suited for certain waterways
• The weight of effective fishing line, in specific scenarios
• Locations that offer good fishing opportunities
• Great resorts near those destinations
• Filleting and preparing types of fish
• Effective sunscreens
• Techniques for spotting fish activity
• Sonar and other electronic aides for big fishing
That’s a wealth of knowledge beyond simply fishing. It is enhanced market knowledge, extremely personal and intimate. This fisherman could likely offer his expertise to so many varied segments of that market. He’s versed in equipment, boats, technique, travel, clothing, electronics, and probably much more as they relate to fishing. There are a host of businesses that can be launched from that knowledge base. If he entered the marketplace, I’d put my money on that guy. He already has a massive competitive advantage due to all he intrinsically knows about this market. He already knows what his customer base wants because it’s him.
His competitors and their businesses had better have The Blood, because this guy is gonna be moving fast. He’ll be developing products he knows his customers will buy. His more formally business-educated competitors will be wasting time and money on market research to mitigate risk. Naturally, that’s what their MBA classes have told them to do. But while they’re asking fishermen what they want, our fisherman is already in development with a product fishermen need.
3. Passion vs. Business Acumen
THE FISHERMAN EXAMPLE is a very stripped-down illustration. There’s a big piece of the puzzle that is of great importance and its absence can sink this fisherman fast. (All pun, baby.) He may know the fishing market and The Blood will arm him with the greatest advantage for his business’ survival, but if he mismanages the business it will eventually fail, or at least operate with greatly compromised success. He will still have an advantage with customers. But over time, the structure could crumble around him if he doesn’t learn the basics of business.
We’ve all hired contractors for some service. Some are better craftsmen than others. Some are better businesspeople than others. That’s the law of averages. As a consumer, which are we more tolerant of—a good craftsman with poor business skills, or a poor craftsman with good business skills?
I’d venture to say we’ve all tolerated the first of those choices, but have eliminated the second from our lives very quickly. Our glistening, perfectly installed hardwood floors will mitigate the fact that the craftsman was late to our house, doesn’t advertise effectively, and can’t balance his books. Devouring a restaurant’s succulent Pasta alla Norma prepared with authentic Sicilian flair will likely outweigh the fact that it took a long time to hit our table. Same for the fact that the restaurant’s menus aren’t in the Yellow Pages, and the restaurateur isn’t being very economical with his vendor choices.
Conversely, if the hardwood floors were stained unevenly and scratched, how much would it matter that he was on time, has high market visibility from his nice billboard ads, and manages revenue well? If the pasta tasted awful, would we care that it was served quickly in a restaurant that markets and manages properly? You get a bit of a break if you have The Blood and can deliver it to your impassioned customers.
Both The Blood and the business are important. Without The Blood, that craftsman would be at a disadvantage in his workmanship. He would not have been able to advise us on what type of wood and stain would be most economical, durable, and beautiful for us. Physical workmanship is always an indication of passion too. The chef would not have been able to replicate the Sicilian origins of the pasta so accurately had he not been passionate enough to travel and experiment at length for his craft.
It is this advantage that resonates with consumers so greatly. It keeps you in the game even if there’s an absence of the business skills at first, and if you are adept enough to realize you’re lacking them, you have time to fix it. The glistening hardwood floors and delicious pasta buy you lots of time with the public in the form of repeat business and flowing revenue while you work on maximizing your business.
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nbsp; A wonderful product born out of The Blood is irreplaceable and of the utmost value to the lifespan of your business. It’s the sustenance that touches the kindred souls of your audience and keeps them coming back. They know your passion first-hand and they appreciate it.
Business skills are learned. They deal in cold numbers and the interpretation of them. If you’re astute at it, that skill will be of prodigious value to you. But it’s an assumable practice. Give me some time and I’ll tell you what this data or that data means. But The Blood can never be learned or taught. It is for this reason that The Blood usurps business acumen as a prerequisite for starting a Business of Blood.
The Blood resonates with your customers and creates that all-important kinship between them and your company, and also with you, as its founder and owner. That kinship is what causes companies to explode in popularity via social media and viral messages. Social media presence is so vital and the entire advertising business has been redefined by it.
It’s so comical when I see cold businesses trying to capitalize on a passion that doesn’t exist. Bottom up marketing (more later) is a more organic fit for some businesses than others, but some insist on trying to “wear” it. It stinks when we smell it and it rings so unauthentic. It really resembles an 85 year-old man walking into a club dressed like 50-Cent.
Don’t you laugh when you pick up a package of sausage that has a label saying, “Follow us on Facebook?” Well-educated businesspeople know about social networks, blogs, and the concept of personalizing their products, but they fail to realize that simply applying the buzzwords doesn’t get it done. It’s not just clothing you throw on your business. There is no doorway to cool. You got it or you don’t. And if that sausage company is going to make me follow their social page, they’d better find a very compelling reason for me to do so. What can you do with sausage on Instagram? Sounds like a question on YouShoot.
