MJSM: Part 4…Molds

How I got my first mold ‘maker’ is a little fuzzy but I remember doing business directly with a resin guy.  He worked for McMaster’s and I think, through conversation, he told me he could make me a mold so I could make my sticks.  Always looking to stay within budget, I agreed to it.

This is my first taste of being at the mercy of other people’s agendas.  Before my mold could be made, I needed a pattern.  I found a place in Cranbury, NJ, and they made my first stick pattern.  It took a while for my first mold to get started, let alone made.  I’m taking “Patience 101″ now and I have no leverage or influence, so I just have to wait for them to get moving.

Finally the day comes when their version of a RTM mold gets pressed into service.  I had done a few cores out of my HD foam and brought all my fabric along and let the knowledgeable people do their thing.  I can tell you that when that first example of a stick came out and was recognizable, I was personally thrilled.  We cleaned the flashing up and then the guy whose shop it was picked it up and walked over to one of those yellow poles that prevent a person from knocking the garage over and swung for the fences and quickly killed my very first RTM molded stick.  This was still the latter part of ’96.  The look on my face must have been similar to the look on a child’s face whose lolly pop was just ripped from his mouth.  He told me not to be upset, they’d make another and another.

I got to take home one of the surviving sticks at the end of the day and what I did was go straight to the rink to show my unsupportive rink mates that I mean what I say and here it is.  Fortunately, the stick was closer to today’s sticks than my yellow monsters that I made in my heater room.  That didn’t keep people from looking at me and it as if I was standing there demonstrating odd behavior.  Truth was, I was standing there like I had won a trophy!  I went to my local rink in the hopes that I would find support and approval, but I didn’t and I made a note.

In the meantime, I had gotten a call from a headhunter in Ohio.  Remember, I “graduated” from computer programming school and was waiting for my first job offer, but after 15 months, I figured I just wasn’t going to get one.  Then this offer comes along and well, you know, my wife, toddler son and almost toddler second son and myself have been living off my wife’s income and so I had to go out to Independence, Ohio for an interview.  So we drive, which is about eight hours west of us, which means traversing the entire state of Pennsylvania…with two boys, one of which is completely unruly.  It’s mostly ok though…we have a conversion van…with a potty!!

I only mention the sleeping accommodations because the sleeping arrangements were laughable (only now, not then).  One room, two twin beds and four people.  I got to sleep with the Nicholas, my wild toddler.  I use the term “sleep” loosely.  That kid’s all over the place, which makes it very difficult for me to get to sleep before my interview the following morning.

Long story slightly shorter, I go to the headhunter mixer, mingle, be charming and answer a few questions.  Obviously this contractor shop was desperate for bodies or they wouldn’t have been looking outside their own state.  Pretty confident I’ll get the job, I have to decide if I want to live in Ohio while my wife and soon to be three sons live in our home in New Jersey.  My wife is on maternity leave so she’d be home…alone…with one well-behaved son, one wild and crazy son and one on the way.  My choice was easy…I’m going to Ohio!!!!!  My wife didn’t flinch or ponder…You’re going to Ohio!!!!

I know jack-shit about computers and/or programming, but here I go.  Going to get an apartment in Parma Heights.  Work at National City Bank, make lotsa money..well, more than ever before and be essentially a single schlub.

So we rent a small U-Haul trailer, stuff my meager belongings into it and hitched it to the van and off we go.  We move me into my swinging new apartment and setup’s a breeze since I don’t have anything in the way of furniture.  So we all go out to wherever and buy a card table with two chairs, a couple of step stools for the boys to sit on, a couple of air mattresses and some other minor odds and ends.  It’s not a big place, but it echoes with all the stuff we don’t have.

I don’t like apartment dwelling, especially on a ground floor cement slab, in a state that flashes tornado warnings every evening.  I’m pretty near Cleveland, so we’d get that lake effect weather.

So it’s 1997 and I’ve moved to Cleveland for a white collar job I’m not qualified for.  I already have two small children and my wife and I have one on the way.  The family stays for about two weeks before they fly home…my poor wife.  I miss them, but I take some solace in the fact that I brought my motorcycle and my hockey gear with me.  I have things to do, like ride my bike to work…without a helmet and it feels good!  I have my gear, but nowhere to play yet.  So I start looking around and one rink’s having tryouts(?), so I figure sure, why not go?  Not what I’m used to rink-wise.  My local rink was brand new when I started playing there, so this older rink is…different.  Quite a few goalies as well as players showed up for this, but I feel confident.  I sucked!  My reaction…get new gear!

This bit is important now.  While living in Cleveland, I decide to take a 5 hour road trip to Burlington, Ontario where I’ve found a guy that will use my existing mold to make me sticks.  He’s a mask maker by trade.  Oh yeah, I took my mold and stick ideas with me to Cleveland.  I should preface the rest of this by saying, I had ordered new Simmons pads, which allowed me to make the Simmons boys aware of my efforts.  One morning I set out for Burlington to meet the mask maker guy and I get there, he takes one look at my mold and declines to use it.  My heart sinks.  He explains that when he applies the pressure needed to make a stick, my mold will explode.  He explains how this will happen and I’m naturally super bummed.  I waste a little more time there and head home, but first a stop at my new ‘friend’s’ store — Simmons.

I get there and I’m surprised by the size of the store.  All those website pix of the interior led me to believe that the place was enormous!  I find Scotty and introduce myself.  He’s a very gregarious guy and we get along.  He asks me if I have any of these sticks he’s heard me talk about.  As it happens I have at least one sample in the van.  It still has flashing on it and I explain that it’s not play worthy.  Scott says he doesn’t care, he likes to put stuff up on his walls at the store.  Old masks and unique stuff like that.  I say sure, but I want a deal on gloves.

I also tell him about my time in Burlington and he puts me onto a mold maker in Godish(?), Ontario and gives me a name.  It’s been a long day already and I decide to drive back to Cleveland instead of staying over night someplace.

What my new job provides for me is a cubicle with a phone and time to work on my own business.  I use my ‘free’ time at work to call everywhere.  I locate the new mold maker, I explain my product.  Yes, I know, I too was surprised that everyone in Canada did not know what a goalie stick looked like.  I agree to the terms, ship my pattern to them, find the money and wait for the thing to be completed.

Before I left New Jersey, the family and I trip up to New York to visit the facility that would be making my new sticks from the new mold.  Not a big place or town for that matter, but I was inching closer to my dream and I wouldn’t have cared if they set up shop in a basement.  I saw the things they did make and, being carbon fiber, it all looked good to me.  Another deal done and time to head back home.

Now I have to locate fabric and as always, when I call a new place I have to explain what I’m after.  I found a great place with a great person to speak to about how to get the right properties for my stick.  We discuss all the fibers available and he explains why one is better than another and as a result, I choose carbon fiber and a bit of fiberglass.  I asked about Kevlar and maybe a fabric that contains both aramid and carbon.  The engineer tells me that the two do not like to play together in one fabric.  That carbon fiber is the best choice for my application.  I purchase the materials I need and send them to the production facility.

Time passes and my newest mold is complete and shipped to upstate New York.  Producing samples of my stick from the new mold presents issues for the people attempting to make my stick.  The main issue is the mold’s weight.  My new mold weighs in at four hundred pounds.  The one thing I know for sure, is this mold will not have any problems tolerating ten thousand psi!  The problem will be how awkward it is for this little shop I’ve selected.  Hey, it’s not as easy as it sounds to find a place that can do the work, let alone willing.

Moving forward, I finally get a stick and it’s not long before I hit the ice with it.  No game situation, I’ve learned that lesson…just some open ice.  I select a shooter and away we go.  I am so amped by the prospects that I switch into hardcore fantasy.  That doesn’t last too long.  Not many shots in, I hear a crack and time stands still while I examine what I hope I don’t find.  There it is…the crack is in the blade.  That pretty much takes care of my desire to continue testing beyond the crack.

Now that the stick has failed, it’s time to send it back for an ‘autopsy’ as to why it failed.  The reader should note that the price per stick to me, is a whopping $250, plus shipping both ways when the sticks do fail.  Keep that in mind for later, because it plays a pivotal role in my GoalieStore Bullentin Board (GSBB) membership.

So to move things along a little bit, I send the failed ONE-PIECE sticks back to solve the failures and they send me a new and purportedly, improved stick, but this is not the case and we go around like this until the year 2000.  During that time, I looked around for a local shop to do some sort of graphics for the sticks.  I selected a place not far called, P C Graphics.  As always, wife and children in tow we step into the reception area and the young lady calls for someone from the back to come up and see what we need.  I recognize the guy as Anthony Pino, a guy I played ice hockey with one season.  So we have that bond to build on and it helps he’s young because I want something fresh and innovative for my graphics.

I went in for stick graphics and came out (in the end) with an entire corporate image.  So one day I’m looking over his shoulder…I spend many hours there over the period of time that we try to dial in the stick graphics, and he has this shade of green on his monitor and it stops me in my tracks.  What’s also eye-catching for me is the font he’s chosen.  It’s something he made up by stretching another font, whose name escapes me.  So now we have our image for the stick, but we’re not done.  There’s the blade that we toy with as a place for something not yet done before.  However, we opted not to go that route and let the carbon weave shine through instead.

With Pino’s help, we get logos, letterhead, envelopes, fliers, brochures, banners, a website, the whole kit-and-caboodle (how many times have you seen that spelled out?) in preparation for our first, knock-em-dead trade show in beautiful downtown Kansas City!

It’s now the year 1999, when I attend my first hockey trade show, located in Kansas City.  However, not my very first trade show.  The people that supplied me with carbon fiber had taken my stick to their industry’s trade show to demonstrate what applications that carbon could be formed into.  The stick won them some kind of award.  Another industry trade show was being held in San Antonio and my family ( my wife, my two small sons and my mother) tagged along to see what the fuss was about.  The thing everyone liked best was the free junk the booths were giving away.  Just like the guys who attend hockey trade shows.  They wander around looking for free junk and then move on, but I’ll get more in-depth about that later.  You know what sticks out in my mind the most?  The size and location of the Alamo!  No wonder Ozzy mistakenly took a leak on the side of it…it’s about as big as a local convenience store!

The weather was nice.  The River walk was cool.  You could see the flood line near the tops of tall trees.  Decent food.  That’s my trip in a nutshell.

So now, I’m starting to get calls about the stick and the only really important call comes from the offices of…PHATS/SPHEM.  God awful acronym, right?  Never heard of them before and on the phone they rattle off what it stands for like I can hear any of what they’re saying.  All I know is, it’s an opportunity for me…in some way.  Fortunately, the woman takes a breath and explains to me what all that stands for.  I think “cool,” a way for me to show ALL the athletic trainers and equipment managers from every pro hockey team my new ideas.

By this time I had more than a single product–the stick.  Somewhere in that whole stick thing I found time to notice that there was this atrocious odor emanating from my hockey bag (want to be specific there).  My thoughts were, where/when did a cat gain access to my bag?  I moved my head downward to see if I could pinpoint the source and I came out with my mask.  It’s very acrid and makes my head snap back.  When did this happen?  It’s the first time I’m really noticing it.  Through conversation, I forget (which authority I questioned), it was revealed to me that soft foam (lets use the term Rubatex) is made of a by-product of urine, called, urea!  Eureka!  That makes perfect sense for the cause of the odor, but like, way disgusting!  It was also the time that the padding fell out of my mask.  I tried gluing the padding back in, but the foam didn’t seem to want to hold the shape of the mask anymore and had gone from soft foam to pretty rock hard foam.  It must have dawned on me that this hard, ammonia-ridden, nasty-ass foam made from pee was not going back in my mask no matter how much I needed it.

Light bulb comes on and I do a little research.  I find that the makers of Dr. Scholls gel insoles is Shearing-Plough.  I find the number and make a call.  I find my way to an engineer, chemist or salesman–tough to recall and start asking leading questions.  We have a conversation (read, he doesn’t hang up on me) and I finally get to the money question, Who is your gel supplier if Shearing-Plough doesn’t make it themselves?   He tells me he can’t divulge that information.  Picture a deflated balloon.  I think, (expletive deleted) man! and the guy on the other end must have had a conscience that day because when he heard the disappointment, he told me his source just a before he hung up.  I didn’t even get a chance to thank him for his courage.

Thank God telephones are wildly popular, as this saves me a lot of traveling around the country!  I call the “source” and I get to speak to a very friendly guy willing to entertain me and my idea.  Once I explain how I want to use their gel, he says, “We’ve been waiting and wondering when someone was going to come up with this application.”  So I think, I am so in and it is so going to work!  I don’t care what things cost, I just want to get to my conclusion.  Okay, I do kind of care what things cost, so I went with a cheap set of dies to see if my idea would even hold water, so to speak.  The only way to find out is to shell out the money and provide a design.  This is where I start to involve my sister, Robin.  She has the mechanical background to help me design the first gel interior.  What do I do for a source of inspiration?  I basically use the shapes from my mask.  One large forehead piece that covers the entire top half of the mask.  See, I thought since that’s the way it was in my mask, that’s how it had to be.  Cheek/ear pieces and a back plate shape.  Robin draws up the plans and we submit to the “source” and there’s discussion to refine and clarify.  We get dies made and it’s a fair bit of money, but when I get the pieces, I think, “Shit!”  Too heavy and thin.”  The padding in my mask was half an inch thick and now I was planning to put something half that thickness in and expect my mask to fit properly.  Most dejected at the prospect of having wasted all that money to find that out.  I was sure I had mucked it up!

I had already determined that the best way for me to attach this gel was by hook & loop, better known as “Velcro”.  As most manufactures of masks, it was a bitch lining up the holes in the padding with the vents holes.  My interior was meant for the masses not just this mask, so I had to think generic.  Eh, so what if some holes get covered, the gel was not going to trap heat like foam does, it’ll be all right.  Attaching the cheek/ear pieces were a little challenging because one had to remember which orientation was the correct one.  The back plate presented another problem…it’s deepness.  I had to fill the hole in, otherwise the plate would dig into the back of my neck.  I had glued my chin cup into place a long time ago, so I left it that way.  All pieces in and now for the disappointment I was sure I would feel.  Not as wobbly as I had anticipated!  Holy sheep shit!  I took the mask off, adjusted the back plate straps, crossed my fingers and put the mask back on and to my delight, the sonofabitch fit.  I couldn’t believe that it wasn’t slack.  I was so stoked and hurried to the rink.  I think as timing would have it, I had a men’s league game that night and hit that thang!

I was very hyped for the game considering what I was wearing.  I didn’t have to wait long for a test result.  The puck enters the zone as a possible break away.  I like to play well out when the puck is in the other end, so I’m above the crease a good five feet when the puck does come in and there’s someone after it, so being much younger then, I bolt after the pucks as the forward rushes toward it.  We’re playing chicken and I’m the one with all the protective gear on.  It’s close, real close, but I dive for it with my stick extended (naturally) and I get to the puck and take down the forward, whom I know.  The result of my taking him down was a kick to the top of my head–about mid-top.  Afterward, both he and the ref come over straight- away to see if I’m hurt, but they never get to me because I’m on my way back to the net.  I get there rapidly and grab the left post for the rebound shot.  After play gets blown dead, I get questioned, but I’m fine.  Hell!  I’m better than fine, I’m giddy.  It dawns on me that I had an idea, one that I thought was good and it was good.  I didn’t receive any negative results from that blow.  Maybe I was just too pumped to notice the blood or the dizziness or the nausea or the headache.  I had to contain myself and finish the game.  Even after I was home watching TV into the wee hours, I was never plagued by any negative side effect.

This milestone (for me) took away some of the concern over the stick I was feeling.  The stick was failing every time and the gel for the mask worked immediately!  Trouble with the gel is, what each set costs me–$40!  It didn’t matter, I had to have a few sets and I had to convince people I knew and complete strangers to be my ‘pig’.  As always and even now, no one local was interested in supporting my efforts, so I was the lone tester for some time and just as well.

So now I had TWO products to take to that PHATS/SPHEM trade show in K.C..  I was treated like a real business by them and that was a first.  I had become like a real business.  Even though I was operating on very little knowledge (still am) and out of basements.  But like that IBM ad of the time said, you could be anywhere in the country, even the middle of nowhere and run a successful business.

I bought half a booth.  Well, I was sold half a booth because I was a late addition.  I had to share the space with some former minor league guy that was selling gloves.  A nice enough guy, but the type I would come to know as typical for my new found industry.

In the meantime, I have been calling people whose names were given to me by others.  Cold calling and explaining my revolutionary ideas to them.  They being unimpressed to the point of sending me to some other unsuspecting hockey-related dude, like Buzz Deschamps!  This guy sounded helpful and enthusiastic.  He said it was good that I was going to this trade show and other encouraging things.  He even told me what he was bringing to the party…a skate with three edges and gloves.  I have more details regarding Buzz, but I just want to get to the actual trade show experience.

I remember the ride from the airport to the hotel, where this gala event was to take place, was in a station wagon and long, making it very unpleasant for me.  We finally arrive at the hotel and get checked in.  It’s a little awesome in ways to see guys that rub shoulders and feet with pro players, milling about.  I see the guys from the Phantoms, the team that practiced out of my local rink.  Yeah, they’re friendly like someone is to a leper.  That aside, we’re like a bunch of hicks in the big city for the first time.  Eyes wide open, mouths agape, we find our way to our rooms and decompress until we can get to the booth to set up.  Before we can enter the hallowed halls of this event, we must register and get our official documents like the the big shots we are.  I can’t explain enough how we thought we were going to be well-received for being clever and cutting edge, which we were.

We have credentials now and can go inside and look around.  As I recall, we were a couple of the few that were in the venue, so we strolled around to see all the big names that heretofore were merely myths in my imagination…my sister was clueless.  Oh my Gawd!  There’s the Vaughn booth and look over there, that’s Itech’s booth and lookie here, Louisville!  I think they were still Louisville before they turned into TPS.  It’s a funny thing we came upon the Louisville booth when we did and for some strange reason we lurked out of awe rather than spying, but I did spy a stick rack in their booth.  Not knowing the ettiquette of the time, I walked back to look at what they had and in amongst the sticks was a half-baked composite stick and it was rough and to my mind, comprised of the wrong stuff.  Pointed it out to Robin and moved on to see other big names in the hockey equipment biz.  From tape to socks to weird training stuff…all I could think of, I’m going to walk away with a lot of great free stuff from my new brothers.  Well, not really, but the part about me thinking of the industry as my ‘brothers’ was true–that’s how naive I was.

I’ve never had to occupy a booth or stand of any kind in my life and I’m not comfortable with it exactly and certainly not for like eight hours in a row!  You stand there like your flies down and your underwear is open.  You watch people stroll by as they screw their faces up trying to comprehend what’s on the table without asking you any questions.  You mutter to one another.  At least Robin and I did and I couldn’t think of a better booth partner than my sister.  If nothing else we would amuse ourselves by commenting on people as they walked by.  Not all attendees were exhibiting odd behavior; others would introduce themselves and ask questions and make comments.

Once my awe-struck tunnel vision went away, I noticed the setup across from me is Mr. Eddy Schultz of Eddy masks!  “Oooo”, I say to my sister out of the side my mouth, “I’m gonna go over there and ask him about the gel for his mask.”  She also thinks it’s a good idea, so off I go.  Do I know how I’m going to pitch my product to him?  No, I do not.  I wing it and I couldn’t have botched it up any better if I had vomited upon his person and product.  I ask, “Ever consider gel as an interior padding for your mask?”  He tilts his elongated face down toward me (he’s tall and I’m not) and says, “no.”  Okay.  I tell myself to attempt to return to my booth, right across from his with dignity.  At first, I was like, man did I blow that and then I began to reply the scenario over and over (what else did I have to do?) in my mind.  Slowly, you come to believe, that guy was an asshole!  He could have heard me out, asked a question…something!  OK.  Moving on.  “Hey Rob,” I say, lets stroll the grounds and head over to that Louisville booth.”  We could use a break from the booth, especially after my Eddy incident and off we go.

We pass many booths and drink it all in until we get to ‘that’ booth and there’s a small crowd near the entrance.  We stroll up like people who’ve stumbled across a felony.  Dave Wilcox stops mid-sentence and points me and my sister out as “those two” and the conversation grinds to a halt.  My sister and I look at each other, thinking our new good brothers are having fun at our expense, but no, he was serious and we were treated like commies that were messing up their timetable.  Although the words were not spoken, we were dismissed!  Before I left though, I told “the gang” to come over to my booth, because unlike them, I would talk to them and I would allow them to examine my one-piece efforts.  So we left and verbally scratched our heads as we strode off dazed by the reception we just got.

Doing well.  In no time at all we have just made enemies with two well-known hockey manufacturers and there was more to come!

MJSB: Part 3

I throw my Brodeur/Heaton onto the foam and trace away. I use a utility knife to cut out a goalie stick shape from the 3/4″ foam and start Dremeling the be-Jesus out of it. Nasty dust flying all over the little water heater room I’m in. As it turns out, I have something of a talent for this, as the core actually looks like a stick. I even managed a proper curve. So now the hard part; adhering the fiberglass and Kevlar to the core with the resin. Did I mention, I had no experience whatsoever dealing with this medium? One of the tough parts for me was keeping the fabric in place while I slathered the resin all over that fabric like tanning oil on a Hawaiian Tropic babe. Kevlar wisps all over my fingers and now I have to let it dry, so I hang it upside down in that very same little water heater room and try to be patient while it dries.

As it turns out, I’m not very patient and I run down to check it’s progress and it’s still tacky so I make myself wait until morning. I awake like its Christmas for a 6 year old and bolt down to the “pit” (my basement) to check my work. Oh boy! it hardened over night and it wasn’t floppy like my previous failures. However, it was pretty fugly and not quite strong enough for use. Just flexing it would produce cracking noises like ice off a glacier. OK, don’t flex it! So I tap it on the cement floor as a judge of it’s worth. Doesn’t sound too great, but I try it out by playing a little ball hockey against a wall. But because it’s ugly, I make another and try to improve on the appearance.

As it happens, my local rink (Hollydel) was used by the Philadelphia Phantoms for practice. As it also happens, Reggie Lemelin is their goalie coach and he’s accessible. I ask him for a moment of his time to explain what the hell I’m doing and to my surprise, he doesn’t shoo me away like some demented fan. I ask him if he would allow his goalies (Roussel and Little) to test it during practice and he agrees. Now I’m stoked! Just what I needed to press on and not give up. Back to the pit to make my Franken-stick and try as I might, I get just that. Do you know how hard it is to walk into your local rink with a thing that gets people starring like I have a ten pound tumor on my face? Props to Reggie and the goalies for not laughing hysterically, really. He calls one of the two over, explains and hands them my stick (I’m laughing as I type this) Suffice it to say, the goalie was a little perplexed by it, but instinctively uses it as a goalie stick. It didn’t take long for the stick to fail, but it did so in a place I hadn’t expected — the handle. The blade took a few shots and held up fine. The goalie skates to the back door, says nothing and hands it back to me. I gush with thanks for even entertaining me and my project. I count it as a success and come away with a little more knowledge on how NOT to make a goalie stick. I repeat this process a few more times and each time the bloody handle would fail.

The folks at the yacht plant offered me some advice. That’s when the word “mold” came up and now my search turned to finding a mold to make better sticks.

Mask Makers I Have ‘Known’

Ah, this is going to be a good one.  Lots of characters!  My best efforts to get them in the correct order and remember their names.  If I don’t, so much the better for them.

Target Sports International: I forget his name.  I was looking for someone to make masks for me since I had/have this wicked cool gel interior.  Everyone seems to know that a single component can not be tested, HECC wants the whole enchilada.  I bought one of his masks and if I remember correctly it was of the plastic variety.  The mask looked wide and had a short chin…something like the Badger Elite (remind me to include Steve Badger).  The mask came with this sliver closed cell foam and I remember putting it on my head of thinning hair and remarking, “Ouch!”  The padding was shaped like little triangles and lets just say it was my introduction to Rubatex options.  After that, I installed version one of the gel and the thing was just too big to work out all the possible ways to make it fit (no self adhesive foam ‘spacers’ at this time).  Came with a stock lightning paint job and I think I gave it to someone that needed A mask.

Dillon: Not too much to tell other than Bob and I couldn’t seem to get on the same page, but that’s probably due to Bob getting jaded by the stinko industry and its politics.  Although he did seem to provide one for every ECHL goalie.  More importantly though is Bob’s automotive business.  The real highlight of that attempt was finding John Pepe, a real top o’ the charts painter (we’ll get to him later).  So Bob was onboard, then overboard, no time, skittish all kinds of reasons for us not to collaborate.  But he did get a free gel interior out of it.  The only Dillon mask I ever saw or held was one he made for Kolzig.  That was the mask Kolizg allowed me to experiement before I put gel in his Pro’s Choice (we’ll get to him later too).

A short list of mask makers that I contacted about the use of the gel upon my discovery. Eddy masks. What can I say–he was as responsive as a blank wall, but as I may have mentioned, he did accost me verbally at the trade shows I attended. One show in particular he came over to our booth before the venue it opened. As it happened we were installing gel into a product of his, unbeknown to him. His rant went something like this, “You’re going to get us all hauled in to circuit court in Alaska! We know what you’re doing! Does Robin Burns know what you’re doing?!?!” All the while pacing like a caged animal. Then he was off. My sister and I looked at each other and shrugged.

I sent a sample of the gel to a guy now head of Brian’s masks. He used to make his own masks up there in Burlington, ON. I don’t know why his name escapes me, but he was a bit of a lunkhead anyway. So I send it off, wait weeks without hearing tweet. I call and speak to whathisname and he tells me that he’s seen this material before and it’s noting special. I asked if he put the gel in a mask and wore the mask? He told me he draped the gel over his hand and then hit his hand with a hammer. With that information, I asked him to send the gel back as he obviously did not get the idea at all.

Then, I called a guy I met at one of the trade shows. He worked for CCM when I sent a gel system to him to try in a mask. I gave the same instructions. Put in, try on. Weeks later, I call him and he tells me they put the gel in a helmet (not a mask) and his results were completely contrary to my own. So as it turned out, CCM didn’t like it, but they did want to keep it around. I had to inform the gentlemen that would not be at all acceptable with me and he need to send the gel back as quickly as possible. So it must have been around this time that I decided that I would have to be the one to get it out there as an aftermarket option.

Then there were the mask makers that contacted me about the use of my gel in their products. These were the most tantalizing of all the ‘carrots’ ever dangled before me, and there were lots of carrots!

Number one has to be a maker by the name of Stacey. This guy operates out of Holland, just to be clear.

So I get an email one day from this man. He’s very positive about my product and eager to get information. Based on his initial email I offered him this deal; send me your top of the line mask and I will install my gel system, wear the mask on the ice to test it out and then send the entire setup back to him for his evaluation. His reply to my offer was a 180 degree turn in attitude. His email was accusatory and maniacally hostile. I can’t remember the diatribe verbatim, but we have the gist.

Some time afterward I got a call from my gel supplier telling me that Stacey had found them and asked them to make him my product for his use. He had gone behind my back to try to secure gel for his own purposes and cut me out of my due. From that time on he had done what he could to undermine my efforts for hinting to the reveal my source of the gel.

I had never ever heard of him before he contacted me and once I had seen his site, I wasn’t too sure I wanted my gel mixing with his efforts. The pix did not do him any great favors. His site was slipshod, but no one else had shown an interest in my gel…so what the hell.

Then I actually saw a product of his owned by a man named Marc Wells. I am not exaggerating when I say I laughed out loud when I held it. It was not symmetrical at all. The thickness varied. It looked amateurish and Marc paid good coin for that mask. Stacey’s website DID do his product justice–sad to say. So I looked at the events to have worked themselves out and was glad he turned out to be a kook.

As it turns out, later Marc became involved in my business, which was a welcome thought at the time. As part of his involvement he asked , no, begged me to give Stacey another chance at masking masks for my company. here’s the problem with having a guy in Europe making any product for you…what if there are physical problems that require than man to make physical changes to his product. Sending masks back and forth would prove to be NOT cost efficient. Feeling an obligation to Marc, I agreed to three masks from Stacey. I don’t remember the exact cost, but they weren’t inexpensive. Plus let me throw in now that I DO NOT believe in aramid (Kevlar) as a proper chioce as a material for masks. I think the use of it is purely a marketing ploy and nothing more. The marketing idea behind Kevlar as a material for masks is the mentality if Kevlar can stop a bullet, well by cracky it’ll stop a puck!! balderdash and pure twaddle!

I get one of the three. The one I got first was for a customer that Stacey was familiar with, her name is Becky. He sends me the mask and I gel it up and send it to her. She gets it and it way too big for her. Now I’m thinking, why did Stacey send me a mask for a customer he’s familiar with that is way too big? he knows it’s a woman. he knows my gel is thinner than any foam. Why is the mask too big? What am I supposed to do now? Send the bad mask all the way back to Holland? I’m mad at myself for being talked into a situation I knew would go badly. I’m none too happy with Wells and Stacey for that matter either!

I have Becky send me the mask she wanted back to me and I send her a properly fitting mask that is more expensive the Stacey. Nice deal for me, but I do the right thing. Is there compensation for me from either two gentlemen…no. I have two more of these masks coming to me and when they get here, each has it’s own issues, that if made closer to me, sat Canada, I could have sent back to be put right. But no, I have a mask maker in bloody Europe and I’m forked.

The second mask maker to contact me, I believe was Sportmask. So this guy’s name is Tony Priolo, he tells me. He currently works for Ticketmaster up there in Canada. He tells me he’s read good things about my products and needs to latch onto someone to help with his credibility. I’m liking what I’m hearing and promptly ask him to send me a sample of his product. I think he tells me he can’t afford to or something , but my West Coast guy (Michael Oke) has arranged to buy one and have it come to me first. I’ll do just what I told Stacey. Put gel in it, test it out on the ice and then send it along to Michael for his evaluation.

Tony, I call him that instead of what I’d like to call him, begin speaking on a daily basis. He seems more friendly, is Italian and is positive. I’m looking for a way to boost sales, so I’m going to listen.

Time passes and Tony and I find a lot of common ground, like hating a lot of the other mask makers we’ve both encountered. he says positive things about my product and chances for success. I am the type to help others and HOPE they reciprocate at some moment along our mutual journey. I am such an ass! I’ve blocked out a lot of our relationship, so some details may not be included, but I’ll put down all that I can recall.

Still at Ticketmaster, but making progress, Tony begins to gain ground. As it happens a goalie by the name of Tim Thomas calls me out of the blue because he’s back from Finland and trying to make in the NHL once again. he calls because he doesn’t want to be made fun of for wearing a helmet/cage combo in the “show”. Guys in the show wear masks. In Finland, wearing a helmet/cage combo doesn’t bring jeers from your fellow players or the fan’s, but here in North America, you’re career can be decided by your appearance. So Tim has a problem. His chin is of the Jay Leno type and getting masks to fit, custom or otherwise is a major issue and he thought my gel would help with this. What do I do? I tell him about Tony Priolo and his masks. Why? Because I’m in cahoots with Mr. Priolo and that’s how I roll–I help! In fact, I name Mr. Priolo’s new product the mask/cage combo or as I called it…”The Mage”. point of fact, I got that name from someone else in the NHL at the time of the transition from molded face masks to the combination of that type mask to the addition of a cage to cover the huge window for the eyes and nose. nevertheless Mr. Tony never heard of it before I ,mentioned it to him.

Tim calls him and they get along so well, they decide to swap wives…they’re that close. Okay, the wife swapping I made up, but you get my drift. So I’m like, “Hey Tony, you’re welcome for me sending you Thomas.”, and he’s like, “What?” All the while I’m pushing for Tony to make my gel interior an option for his masks and he strings me along like a real pro, but why should I doubt his intentions. I help him, he helps me. Right?

We can jump ahead to where Tony gets to quit his Ticketmaster job and do masks full time now. He has an idea to make a molded fiberglass player’s helmet. Asks me for any naming ideas. I help, that’s what I do for a “partner” (I’m using that term in the slightest of ways). I offer him my thoughts based on the appearance of the shape, which I believe is a knock-off of the old Copper/Winnewell/Mark Messier style and I call it the “Centurion.” He likes it and boom the Centurion is born. I think it flopped in point of fact, but you get the idea. Still I push him to offer my gel as an option and still he gives me excuses.

So now we’re at a time when he’s ready to submit his mask to CSA. The Canadian version of HECC, which certifies head protection for participants under the age of 21. I’m like, “hey Tony, you going to submit your mask with my gel in and we can split the costs?” He’s like, “NO.” I ask why not and he gives me some bullshit about insurnace or the appearance …it doesn’t matter, it’s starting to dawn on me that Tony’s a prick who only cares about himself, no matter how much help he’s received.

He does offer to sell my three masks I’ll need to make my own submission to HECC for certification. He’s some humanitarian, eh? What choice do I have so I buy masks from him. We submit our own versions weeks apart. When I submit mine, two different engineers at the testing center tell me that if my mask fails, it’ll most likely be the result of my pad placement. You see, I don’t go for the conventional wisdom of slathering the entire inside of a mask with foam. Oh no, I determine that my head only touches in certain spots of the interior. The rest retains the heat my body is expelling. So I’ve been warned and I accept this because if my mask does fail on the first try, I can resubmit until it DOES pass. I can’t remember if there’s a cost for each attempt, but knowing my industry as I do, I doubt they’d not want to be paid each time.

I forget how long it takes to go through the certification process, but I finally get results and my Priolo mask with the OTNY cage and my gel passes HECC on it’s first try! I guess I didn’t get the placement of those pads incorrectly. I call Tony. “Hey Tone my mask passed on it’s first try, how you doin?” He tells me he’s on like his sixth try or more. Turns out, all things being equal, the interior padding is what made mine and broke his. But does Tony support me and buy into the gel as an option…no!

Okay, Tony’s a real ‘all-for-me-and-none-for-you’ type a guy. Whatever, my mask has proven that I’m right. So Tony offer’s to sell me masks at 10 masks per order. Not what I wanted, but can you expect from a guy like that. Interestingly enough, the masks Tony sent me for my certified HECC masks were not the same quality he sent me for the certification process. Am I pissed! The sonofabitch bait and switched on me. I sent the pieces of shite back to him and ended my relationship with that asshole.

I’m not even going to get into the ‘Arctic” reception my wife and I got when we went to Toronto to see Kevin Weekes and Tony.

During the time of my supporting Tony, I also had interest from a shop called Pro’s Choice. This guy’s name is Dom Malerba.

The highlight of this time is a little war going on between Tony and Dom. The claim is Mr Tony Priolo is not actually making his own masks. This war goes on via bulletin boards and not between these two men, but their shills, trollers…whatevers. I spent time on the phone with Dom stupidly defending Priolo. I guess my blind trust/faith that a guy I was sure had integrity would not outsource his work and claim he had done all the work himself. Whereas, Malerba’s masks were not in stores like Priolo’s because I guess Malerba would not be able to keep up with the demand and still make his masks himself, but Tony did…curious.

I guess I called Pro’s Choice rather than Dom call me. Since I put gel in Olaf Kolzig’s masks (Pro’s Choice) Dom was willing to entertain me for a bit. I sent him a gel system, he said he liked it and would offer it as an option. Might have even gone so far as to post something about it on his website. All I know is nothing ever came from that. I didn’t even ask for a mask to evaluate, like I normally do!

Then it was Quantum Masks turn to contact me about the gel. A guy named Mark seemed very interested but couldn’t get his shit together because his business was too busy to get a mask sent out to me. As it tuns out, I heard through the grapevine that Quantum was the one making masks for Priolo, so i guess Dom Malerba was right and I was wrong…again.

In the end when customers would ask me if I could recommend a mask, I’d have to tell them no. Sportmask was the one I was most familiar with, but based on my experience with that man, I could no longer recommend that mask in good conscience.

Then I heard good things about a mask maker named Hackva. My WCG (Oke) said that he felt it was a very good mask and the owner had values, which is rare so I decide to try one more time. I was finally sent a mask, but no back plate strapping and the shell was huge, so I never got a chance to wear it on ice. I also decide to sell Gabe’s masks on my site with the gel already installed as a way to sell his mask with my gel. To date I’ve sold exactly one.

I sell my gel ‘kits’ to individuals and have never stocked any pro shop with my goods for any real period of time.

2000 PHATS/SPHEM Trade Show in Fla.

So a year later and some refinement, my sister, Robin and my family head to Orlando (I think) for the trade show and to get that bloody Disney trip checked off the list of things I must do as a parent.

Again, we’re optimistic that our ideas will be well received this time.  Now that we have one trade show under us, we feel good, but we didn’t bring a stick to this one.  Not sure why, but I must have had a good reason.

This year, we have our own booth and as before, still feel like a dork standing at my booth while I watch people come and go.  Although I’m not shy, I’m just not sure what my demeanor should be for these professional types.  I look fr familiar faces to get me into the swing of things.

I look to my left and I see Brian Heaton manning the TPS booth.  I screw up the nerve to go over and hawk my gel concept to him.  These sort of things make me uneasy because my reception last year makes me doubt my efforts.  I believe in the gel, but convincing established manufacturers to buy into my ideas is really crushing my confidence.  So I approach Brian and he’s receptive (I attribute his behavior to a proper up-bringing) and we talk.  I show him a sample gel pad and he takes it and we talk.  I get a lot of polite rebuffs, because he’s not the guy who decides what TPS is interested in and what they aren’t.  I keep the chat short because I just feel like I’m wasting his time.  But for the rest of the show, Brian worked that gel pad like it was a ‘Worry Stone’.  I thought surely he’ll see the benefit.

So some guy comes by the booth to check out my I-tech mask with the gel installed…and he’s from I-tech!!  He asks some benign questions and he inspects my mask and notices I could use a new harness.  he grabs my mask and asks me to follow him to the I-tech booth.  I’m so green, I think, “Here’s my chance to get with I-tech on my gel concept” AND “I’m gettin a new harness.” (have to sing that last part like a kid anticipating an ice cream cone), so I go skipping (figuratively) off behind him to their booth, where the guy goes to the back of the booth to retrieve something, my guess is my new FREE harness!  I get distracted by others interested in my mask and when the dust settles, that lousy sack of shit has placed new I-tech sticks on my mask!  I was completely caught off guard and walked away like I had just been fleeced at Three Card Monty…sonofabitch!

I wander back to my booth stupefied by the pantsing I just got and tell Robin about it and we enjoy a slow burn together.  See, these guys can dangle a carrot with the best of them and because I’m desperate to join forces with ANY mfr, I’m an easy target.  However, I’m now becoming wiser as to the tactics being employed by established manufacturers.  Someday I’ll tell of my experiences with I-tech.

So back to standing behind the booth looking pathetic.  As I day dream of a better time, I spot Innovative hockey’s Alan Dolling.  For me, one of the very few decent people I’ve met in my new industry.  I get an idea and I run to catch up with him.   I didn’t bring a stick because my current mfr is woefully unfamiliar with making hockey sticks and they just can’t solve my break issue, so we discussed a 2-pc stick.  I ask Alan if  ‘they’ could make me the shafts for my composite goalie stick.  His answer is yes and once again, I become hopeful.  I take it a step further and ask if Innovative could make the entire stick and his reply was confident.  I thank him for his time and rush back to my sister to tell her the great news.  Now, it doesn’t matter how the rest of the show goes, I may have solved a  issue for me and my stick.

The rest of the show is a blur and largely forgettable except for two things: I met my first fan and I saw TPS had a composite stick to show off at their booth and what do you know…it reads on the stick…RTM, which is the process I was using when I debuted my one piece carbon fiber goalie stick a year ago.  Gee, I’m glad I invited TPS over to my booth back then.  What I couldn’t figure out is how they managed to make a top heavy stick.  I mean one would expect any goalie stick to be bottom heavy because of that big blade down there, but not top heavy.  How could that skinny handle cause a top heavy feeling or should I say imbalanced?

As a side note, we did the Disney thing and I was mostly disappointed in this hyped up theme park, but my kids had fun.  Except we all got dehydrated due to small bottles of water costing $2.50 a pop!

Now we get an invite to go to the “Lets Play Hockey” trade show in Las Vegas.  Ooooo boy!  A trip to Vegas to show our wares to the pro shop people.

The venue is the cheese-eating surrender monkey’s Paris Hotel.  Christ almighty I hate those fake exterior paint jobs they put on the ceilings of  that hotel.  Ok, I cope as best I can with the environment, but now I have to somehow herd my kids around all the gambling devices as we try to get from point A-B without a suit scolding me for having my kids too close to slot machines.  Family environment my ass!  So, I’m in a bad mood in general and it’s time to sign up and get my booth stuff so we can enter the venue to setup.  Where is our booth?  Well on the bright side, it’s first thing you see when you enter this particular room, but it’s right behind the vast wasteland that was CCM.  The companies in debt up to it’s chin cups and they’ve rented like 20 10′x10′ spaces so it’s bigger than most pro shops.  They have little offices setup for final sales or maybe that’s where they took potential clients to soften them up with a rubber hose.  They had the “Brian Heaton” area setup…like a personal appearance thing.  “Come say hello to Brian and get his autograph” type thing.  Places to get your skates heated for that custom fit.  All kinds of smoke and mirror excess.  Which in turn created so much noise we had to shout to people standing at our booth and if I recall correctly, someone from their side shouted for US to keep it down.  Naturally, we laughed loud and long at that and so it was to be at this trade show…no respect.  Not even from the people that took our money for us to be there.  The “no respect” thing is a running theme–you’ll notice.

Two guys from Kenesky’s came by and acted real interested in most everything we had and placed an order for a bunch of things.  yeah.  So we filled their order and then began waiting to get paid.  I allowed the proper amount of time to pass before I began calling them to see where my money might be.  What a fucking runaround!  A working model of things to come with pro shops.  So I finally badger them enough that they send me money…in Canadian funds!  WTF?  Now I go to the bank to deposit it and that’s when I find out I’m getting shafted.  First by those two Bozos from Kenesky’s and then by Wachovia.  Now I have to put in BIG RED LETTERS…”ALL PRICES IN U.S. FUNDS”.  Another lesson learned and a little more cynical I become.

On the bright side, I meet Michael Oke and his fiance for the first time and the guy actually buys something!

On another NOT so bright side, Innovative showed up with my brand new goalies sticks!  Only trouble is, some asshole made an engineering decision without consulting us.  The bonehead altered the design of the upper paddle (supposed to be a duplicate of Kolzig’s stick).  The upper paddle now had three facets to each side.  This was also the time that Ron Kunisaki’s best bud, Mike Vaughn was interested in my stick.  Ron Kunisaki was the president of Innovative and he and Mike were tight.  So tight, Mr. K had convinced Mr V. to consider our product for his arsenal of sticks with his name on them.  OMG!  I was going to be involved with the all mighty Vaughn!  Yeah well, the funky paddle did nothing to gain more interest from V, But it did spawn conversations and negotiations, which I’ll get to soon.

So our first pro shop show was a bust.  We spent $1000 for a booth.  Slack-asses took our samples and not so much as a call the following day.  The CCM boys were true to form and the show coordinators were too.  I met Oke, who has been with me since then.  Despite giving Innovative a truckload of money to make my first real mold…they were going to be my Albatross and I was going to be their bitch…a nice arrangement.  I learned other things as well.  My agenda matter little to those who held my fate.  That pro shops were not for me, based on that Kenesky fiasco.  trusting anyone would be a slippery slope and more than likely result in my getting pregnant.  For me and my family, the best part of the show and that damn hotel was the breakfast buffet…sad really.

I remember a guy that made jerseys for the NHL telling me that “you have to be around for a minimum of three years before you do any real business with them.  ”They’ want to make sure you’re going to be around a while.”

MJSB: Part 2

What new material might get me to where I want to be? I know, polyethylene! I’m still trying to make an unbreakable stick. I find a place fairly local to me and I order a sheet of it in 3/4″ thickness. I forget where I had it cut into a goalie stick shape, but I do and I bring it home and start to work straight away. I choose my trusty Dremel tool to whittle away at it and I start at the handle. I think an I-beam design for the handle would be good for two reasons, one it’s unique and two it’ll help reduce weight. I’m making pretty good time and one hell of a mess and I’m down to mid-blade when I decide to check the flex. Gotta have flex, right? I have so much flex I can practically fold the thing in half — not good. Another lesson learned. Check progress sooner than when you’re almost done! I show it to the wife and this time I hear what she really says. She has a good laugh while I have a good cry.

By this time in the process, I can barely sleep because thoughts are just racing through my mind on how to fix my problems. I somehow get put onto a guy that makes surf boards for a living and I call him to see if he could help me out by making a stick for me. He declines to get that involved but he lists his ingredients for me and although he doesn’t physically help me, he gives me material direction and a place to call for them. It’s a yacht-making facility in Mays Landing which is south of me by about an hour. I buy a few sheets of HD-80 foam, fiberglass, resin and they throw in scraps of Kevlar. I head home and get to work straight away again, but this time I’m sure i have the right stuff.

MJSB: The Hockey Product Part 1

My journey through the stick development process took some comical turns, I have to admit.

My first effort began in ’96 or ’97, can’t remember which. I started by searching the web for an unbreakable material. There weren’t a lot of choices back then, but I found one called Azdel, which is used mainly in the automotive industry. I made a few calls until I found one place that was willing to sell me what they could. Unfortunately, no sheets as big as I needed and nowhere the thickness I needed in order to make things simple. The stuff arrives and now I’m presented with my first obstacle — how do I turn this into that? I need someone that has the tools to cut this stuff into the necessary shape(s) and for that I need a machinist. I find one willing to do the work for a small fortune, but I want/need to see if my idea has any worth to it. I take the material over, we discuss an approach. I tell him I’d like to see some slots in the paddle and holes in the handle to reduce weight, cut down on drag and make it look cool in the process. Time passes and he’s done and I bolt over to see what has been created.

I already feel a little like Dr. Frankenstein only without the skill to assemble my own monster. My feeling wasn’t unfounded because when he brought “it” out, I was thrilled, yet if I had been honest and not blinded by my ambition, I would have seen the stick for what it was — an abortion! By hey, it was my first idea turned into a reality. I dragged the weighty “thing” back to my lair to show off to my wife. Her reaction was one that a person unattached to it would have. “That’s nice.”, she offers, but I don’t her that, I hear, “Wow, you’re a genius and it’s so pretty!”

Off to the rink I hurry. I can’t wait to display my intellectual property and see how well it performs. While out on the ice, we’ll call him a friend, Bob Teti makes the first remarks, but he’s a gruff bastard as it is, so his comments fall on deaf ears since it wasn’t what I expected to hear anyway. So I’m lugging this thing around when a puck slides my way (remember, this is warm-ups) and I’m eager to play that puck and I do but, it doesn’t go anywhere, but there is a reaction to my efforts — the thing bends and stays bent! Why? Because we ( and by “we”, I mean the machinist) had to add a spine of aluminum the length of the stick. That is, from tip to toe. Holy shit!, I think, maybe even said it out loud and boy am I embarrassed. I try to return the stick to it’s unbent shape before anyone notices. Not unlike tripping over uneven sidewalk and trying to make it appear as if you meant to take that little dance step.

I quickly return the monster to the bench and grab a ‘normal’ stick I had brought just in case. The game gets played, but I’m distracted by thoughts of where I went wrong and which direction do I take now. On a positive note, I learned a valuable lesson. Aluminum and Azdel make for a heavy bendy stick and I need new materials.

My Journey in Small Business

It’s summer and my wife and I are driving down to her sister’s house near Long Beach Island. We’re taking back roads and Vivian is doing the driving leaving me to ponder our financial fate as a family. I’m in stasis mode waiting for a programming job offer.

I had been many things in my work history: kitchen help, draftsman, landscaper, but my last long-standing job was as a local truck driver. I had been on the job eight years when I turned my ankle badly enough one night at work to need surgery and that ended my career as a driver — a good turn, if you will.

I had to officially retire from any kind of work similar to working on docks and driving, so I went through the ‘re-invent program of New Jersey’ through unemployment. I took tests that told me that my new career should be in computers! What are the odds?

Fast forward and I’ve cheated my way through computer programming school from what was to be six months to taking me a year. Hard to program when you don’t even have a personal computer in the home. After graduation, time is passing and I have no luck getting a job in my new field. I think someone dimed me out regarding my programming prowess.

So we’re in the van now heading to LBI and I’m pondering a way to make money since no job offers look like they’ll be coming my way and I have a thought. I say to my wife, “What about a device that holds those pesky ketchup bottles upside down in the fridge?” Viv gives me a positive reaction so I run with it. I go on to explain how this would benefit mankind and she encourages me.

I call my sister, Robin, because she’s always had a mind to take an idea and make it a reality… and the bonus of having great artistic talent. I explain the shape to her and the dimensions and she whips me up a drawing. I start calling some local shops that can do the work using Lexan. I find one, I get approximately ten made and start testing them out. The design for ketchup bottles works so well, the device will hold enormous laundry detergent bottle upside down with no issues.

Now I have to try to get some catalog interested in the “IFWIS” (It Fits Where It Sits). I start cold calling catalogs like Lillian Vernon and that ilk. I’ve never done this before so each call is a little nerve-wracking because I don’t want to blow a potential sale. I got a few interested to the point where I sent them a prototype, but alas, no takers. However, I do feel good that I just didn’t spout out an idea, like so many people do, and not act upon that idea.

Now I have ideas-a-plenty and my next one is a heated toilet seat cover. Many a time in mid-winter one is called to the porcelain goddess to be sat upon. If your house is anything like mine, putting ones warmed up body on an ice cold seat is all too common. So it gave me cause to think and what I thought would work well is one of those “Hot Seats” hunters use to keep their butts warm when they’re lying in wait for some unsuspecting deer to wander by. Create a soft fuzzy exterior and fill it with those pellets so one’s own body temp gets reflected back to them instead of an ice cold seat that just saps all the heat from you and now you’re really awake! This device should also be washable…for obvious reasons.

I call my sister and in no time I have a couple of working prototypes. I must say, those things worked very well in times of chill and so I began my cold calling again. What’s important here is that I took my ideas until I hit a wall and then moved onto something else. This helps with getting over ‘failure’. This also teaches one to be optimistic and not be discouraged just because everyone thinks an idea is total crap!

While waiting to find out my latest, I hesitate to use the word “invention”, so I go with “idea”, to either sink or swim, I get another idea. This time it’s a hockey application.

As a consumer of hockey related items, I used to bitch up and down about the goods. Trappers that can’t catch a puck unless it’s right in the webbing (Vaughn T-1950, red, white & blue with matching blocker). Pads that don’t return to ‘square’ once you get up, making you have to slap them from the side once you’re back up, another stellar Vaughn product. Skates that don’t fit quite right because we lack proper pro shops and I happen to have less than average feet. And most of all, sticks that break quickly. None of this stuff, at the time, could be tried out before dropping big (enough) coin to find out what total crap it all was, but you made do because as a consumer of hockey products from ill-equipped pro shops, you didn’t know any better.

When I was in high school and needed real gear, I had to travel to Syosset, Long Island to what was then the only real pro shop that even came close to carrying pro level gear. I remember buying my Lange skates there. My Thomson pads and my ever-loving Cooper GM12′s. My hockey hero was Bernie Parent and I wanted to be just like him and that meant gear that looked like his anyway. See, back then, it was uncommon to be able to call any manufacturer to buy the same gear as the pros. Well, for a kid from Jersey it was. But back then, you just knew that Bernie or any other pro goalie was wearing the stuff he was because it worked for him, not because some company with deep pockets was paying him to wear that gear.

So back to buying crummy gear from pro shops. The worst guesswork purchase was sticks. How does one tell if the one they want isn’t ready to snap on the first shot? One can’t tell, so you make your purchase based on looks. “That looks like a good one.” As was the case for me prior to a game. I was jammed for time so I went to the shop in the rink and made my selection. As it happened, the blade snapped after one shot. Dressed in my gear I waddle to the shop with the two-piece stick that I just bought as a one-piece to demand my money back. The laughter could be heard in the lobby of the rink. Well shit, I just spent $35 for a brand new stick and I have no recourse? I think not! To me this was planned obsolescence at it’s pinnacle. I’m a ‘Joe Shmoe’ here and I don’t have the kind of money to be testing sticks for various companies (that POS stick was a Christian as I recall). So I got to thinking, would goalies pay $300 plus for an unbreakable stick? I started polling goalies as they came to the rink over a period of time and most, if not all, said they would pay that much for an unbreakable stick. However, this idea was seriously flawed.

OK, so an unbreakable stick would hurt my chances of a resale, so I had to adjust my thinking. A stick that lasted longer and was more consistent than the other sticks on the market. Wooden sticks have grain issues that prevents a consistency and foam core…well, they’re made to break or at the very least have the heel go bad quicker than you’d want. No matter how I taped that heel it would always fail. I took notice and added it to my list of what’s bad about how goalie sticks are made and their durability.