Sleepin' Forzanis

Sportchek – a business going sideways, fast.

A close friend was talking about getting some new shoes lately, and that made me think back on Sportchek, a business that used to be private, but that is now part of a public, shareholder-driven conglomerate, Forzani Group.  You may know Sportchek as the king of inflated pricing.  For what seems like decades now, Sportchek has used what, in the 70s, must have been a canny ploy—you put up a pair of shoes, say the regular price is $400, then say the sale price is $250—on virtually every item, and then maybe add a little bit more, like, “Ok, we say these shoes cost $400; we’ll sell them for $250, but this week only, you can have them for $180.”  It’s baffling to imagine when or for how long this ploy worked, but still it’s the one Sportchek clings to.

Further, for what does indeed seem like decades, Sportchek has had one special, and one special only, for what surely seems like 365 days a year: “buy one get one ½ price.”  Who, thinking s/he needs a pair of shoes, instantly thinks: "oh, yeah, I better get 2 pair"?  ??  Well, admittedly, I do live in an extremely rich jurisdiction (though not all Sportchek stores are in or near extremely rich jurisdictions), and clearly Sportchek figures, "hey, these people are rich, they'll buy all kinds of stuff they don't need."  Also, there are rich young families, and Sportchek is obviously counting on this, though what dork or responsible parent would be impressed by the inflated pricing in the first place is beyond me.  Obviously, this eternal “special” puts the lie completely to their phony pricing, and makes you know everything they advertise is a joke, but Sportchek ain’t all that swift on the uptake.  And, clearly, they don’t have to be.  They’ve known their ups and downs, but shareholders strangely stick with them, despite their modest achievements (it's the monopoly thing, for sure).  It’d be a strange thing to sit in on one of those Forzani Group (who own Sportchek and their similars) board meetings—a band of brothers so bloated on meatballs their snoozing snoring guts must rock the mahogany table back and forth until one of them snorts to life and says, “ok, this is over, let’s get outta here”  It’s a wonder shareholders put up with it.

Rather than transparent pricing, actually having stock on hand (shoes, shorts—forget it—virtually every Sportchek employee has it drilled into their heads to say “you should try the bigger location.”  Not, “we can call and see if another location has it,” but “_you_ should try to find another location”).  Genius marketing, and again, good enough for the fatboys on the board and their skinnier shareholders.

Sportchek has always of course relied on highschool labour, kids who work part-time for a few months.  You don’t expect them to know anything, and they don’t.  (Recently, I was in an always empty store in a dismal mall I visit once every 3 years, and I was standing there with a rep., and an Asian woman came in looking for birdies—shuttlecocks—and a girl and a boi just looked at her like she was a complete alien until *I*, the customer, finally had to help her out.)  You can’t blame the kids for not knowing anything—why should they?  They’re not getting paid and they’ll only be there for a few weeks, anyway, so who cares?  But what Sportchek really has amped up—and apparently shareholders love it—is the fake customer service end.  What this means is that, say you want to buy a pair of shoes.  It says $299 for $199, but this week $149 (70s marketing).  You get the kid to get you a box of shoes (there's never much staff, so this could take some time).  He brings them.  He hands them to you.  He says: “did I hand you that box of shoes ok?”  You try on your shoes.  He says: “did I watch you try on your shoes enough?”  You don’t buy the shoes, but you look at some socks for your girlfriend (inevitably, buy one get one ½ price).  You go for those.  He says: “please tell them Darren sold these to you.”  You get to the till.  The girl says: “did you get really great service?”  It is just beyond belief cartoonish.  Leave me alone. Rather than do business like professionals, the Forzani Group just wants to coast as fatboys on a 70s wave they never have to get off, and shareholders seem incomprehensibly impressed by how minimum wage highschool kids are made to ask if people are happy.

(No airmiles anymore, either.  Hardly a gamebreaker for me, but a bit of an incentive.  Sportchek isn't on the program anymore, so one slight reason less even to go in to the store and be told that the "NEW STOCK" they're hyping isn't really in that store and you should go somewhere else, etc.)

Business lesson #1:  Be lazy.  Very lazy.  Never think.