Thursday, January 05, 2012

Friday, August 29, 2008

by Jennifer Sey

Reading this book made me so glad that I was never all that talented a gymnast. The author was the national champion in 1986, and tells the story of how she went from a precocious toddler turning cartwheels to a young, self-motivated competitor to a teenager dealing with parental issues, abusive coaches, debilitating injuries, and self-destructive tendencies, to her eventual exit from the sport.

Seriously, she was worrying about her own weight as an 8-year-old, long before switching gyms to one where the coaches essentially starved their gymnasts. Sey had one nurturing coach, and other coaches who were more concerned with performance than the health (mental and physical) of their girls, to the point where the conspired with doctors to determine "healing" regimines for serious things like snapped tibias that minimized the time before training could re-start, regardless of how it'd impact her over time. Craziness. She was hooked on laxatives, had parents who sacrificed their lives to help her and then wouldn't let her quit, and essentially had a breakdown before she could make it to the Olympics in 1988. There are so many things we casual observers don't think about that rule these girls' lives - when you start competing on the senior level year or two after the previous Olympics, the only way to make it to the next one is to maintain or, better, improve your ability and standing for perhaps three years. That's a lifetime in the world of elite gymnastics, considering the risks for injuries, self-destruction, and the new, younger, more talented girls showing up each year. It's no wonder so many of the national champions peak quickly and then drop out of sight.

Part autobiography, part cautionary tale, Sey seems to have used the writing process to work through her (numerous) lingering issues. Sey and her fellow gymnasts knew that they were not being treated well, that there were definite problems with their coaches and the overall system, but often conspired to keep the knowledge of this from their parents, knowing they'd be taken away from the sport they loved. I can imagine any parent of a gymnast reading this and freaking out, but as a former gymnast (albeit one never able to do many of the skills that Sey mastered before she turned 10) who lucked out on the coaching front, it just shows how the path could have been very different.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

by Barbara Smit

I had never realized how un-settled the athletic goods industry is. You think about us being all civilized and stuff, and then read about how athletes at the Olympic Games were receiving under-the-table bribes of cash and equipment to wear particular brands, how the executive within companies fought each other over marketing schemes, and how a family could be ripped appart by some soccer cleats.

Adidas and Puma were founded by feuding brothers; they dragged their entire town into the deal, with one side of the river being Adidas and the other Puma. Before WWII, in their small German town, they were part of a family shoemaking business. During the war? Both wanted to be in charge, and accused each other of bribing to get one sent off to serve with the Nazis, of cooperation, and all sorts of other bitter things, resulting in the split.

Even once that was "done", there was infighting within the Adidas family, and countless attempts at sabotage between the two families/companies. One of the sons of the Adidas founder felt forced out, and, having a good amount of autonomy as the head of their French division, started his own semi-rival line of Adidas goods, as well as founding/owning Arena (swimsuits), Pony (shoes), and Le Coq Sportif (clothing) - all without the remainder of his family finding out for many years.

There were ups and downs for both over the years, especially once Nike hit the scene and pretty much took over the American market. The distribution set-ups were ludicrous, production could never keep up with demand, and the companies faltered through the 80's and 90's.

At this time, neither really has any descendents in an ownership position, both having been sold off repeatedly to weathly investors, banks, conglomerates, and so forth. But they each also (finally) figured out a direction within the last decade, taking back much of their market shares. Adidas also managed to buy Reebok a few years ago, mainly because the two were tired of fighting for second and third place in market share behind Nike, and figure they have a better shot if they join forces. (Did anyone else miss this? It was 2003, and you'd think it'd be big news...)

There's no conclusion. The story is still on-going, as both Adidas and Puma continue the upward swing.

One interesting note: A LOT of executives and family members died (young) of cancer or leukemia. Within the family, it could be coincidence, but when you start factoring in all the outside business people who joined the board or bought giant chunks of a company and ran it, it gets a bit creepy...

Full disclosure: I own a bunch of athletic shoes/clothing/equipment.

Adidas: my current favorite running shoes, some trail running shoes, my current indoor shoes (though I don't really like them, and will probably be swapping them for some Pumas that are similar to my outdoor cleats...), some shinguards, a bag, various jackets and shorts, etc.

Puma: my outdoor cleats (which I love), and the current outdoor team shirt

Nike: various former running shoes and cleats, various other clothing items