Innovation, independence, curiosity, collaboration, character, integrity, tradition, style all its own, authentic, risk takers, hardworking. All words used to describe craft brewing and craft brewers in this wonderful video by Greg Koch of the Stone Brewing Company.

The line I find most telling is,

We don’t put corn in our beer.

When I got over the obvious irony, I got to thinking – the difference between good and great, between ordinary and skippy, may well be the willingness to settle, to compromise, to cut corners, to take out the joy. Crafting the business you want, is a craft business. As they say in the video,

We are all craft brewers.

I love this kind of hokeyness, chapeau to David Meerman Scott for pointing out the video and giving me a little-morning-lift.

Neatly filed under Focus,Skippiness on April 29, 2009

I had two conversations in pretty quick succession that pointed towards the extremes of service we face every day.

Both talking about (different) new products. The first, a “name” advertising guy, said,

“It’s possible to cover up a bad product with good advertising.”

The second, a middle manager at one of the world’s biggest computer companies, said,

“We need to make sure the back end is bomb proof before we get the sales force excited.”

Which product would you rather buy?

I’m not suggesting that the advertising guy was recommending what he was saying, or even liking it. He wasn’t. But the fact that he had this answer down pat shows that too few companies take the approach of the computer guy.

Faced with an opportunity to make money, which option do you take? The quick don’t-ask-difficult-questions-how-many-can-we-shift approach or the slower hold-on,-let’s-make-sure-we-do-this-right approach.

Where’s the money?

A certain big computer company might say, “go slow, add a few steps, make sure the back end is bomb proof.”

I’d say, “skip.”

Neatly filed under Keeping Promises,Making Promises,Skippiness on April 22, 2009

It’s Easter weekend and I know I’ll spend at least some of it caught up in the beautiful torture of the Masters at Augusta. Which got me thinking, is golf skippy?

Just for a second though, consider football. Surly and recalcitrant players, managers who refuse to talk to the press, habitual swearing at match officials, cheat-if-you-think-you-can-get-away-with-it, blame-the-referee, I didn’t see it.

Now golf. Steeped in tradition and history and always played under strong values – honesty, integrity, and respect for the rules and other players – golf is about winning the right way, or not at all. The rule book is non-negotiable. Golfers honour rituals and conduct that were nurtured in a different age.

To an outsider like me, golf embodies the spirit of sportsmanship. To a skippy-ist like me, has all that slow had a positive effect on the quick?

Skippiness of a game is a tricky question. It is a game after all, you’re supposed to enjoy it.

It’s also a business. The rules are run by the R&A at St Andrews but the commercial interests are run by the two most powerful professional players’ bodies, the PGA Tour and the European Tour, and outside of playing, there’s an industry of equipment manufacturers and a network of shops, clubs, sponsors, communities and volunteers.

For the sake of argument though, let’s concentrate on the professional game as represented by the PGA and European Tours. Now, is golf skippy?

Skippy customers?

Ever spent less than five minutes talking to a golf nut who gets into his favourite subject? Golfers seem able to recall every shot of every game – played or watched – and to re-experience the thrill and frustration as they do it. Practically everybody who plays golf was first brought to the game by somebody else who already played; the evangelist effect in action.

Skippy staff?

It’s easy to believe, especially during Masters week, that professional players hug their golf bags with excitement every morning. Maybe not, but as a job it has some benefits; it’s a meritocracy, played in beautiful surroundings, and well paid if you’re good enough. Joining the professional tour isn’t easy and the life can be hard – living out of a suit case, no income guarantees – yet every year over 700 players attempt to qualify for the 30 places that come up for grabs on the European Tour. Do they skip to the office every morning? Playing a game they love for a living, most probably do.

Skippy owners?

The PGA and European Tour are players organisations – established for the benefit of the players. The PGA Tour in particular says it’s mission is to:

“expand domestically and internationally [and] to substantially increase player financial benefits while maintaining its commitment to the integrity of the game.”

If that’s their intention, if that is what it means to get whatever they want, in abundance – they’re skippy. Sure, the recession is biting. According to the Telegraph, private membership clubs have begun to find themselves in the rough. Everyone can see sponsorship is fading in every sport, golf included. Player financial benefits are bound to suffer this year too. But grading over the long term – the owners must be skipping. Tiger is back, viewing figures are up again, and players at all levels regularly “call a penalty” on themselves showing the commitment to the integrity of the game is as strong as ever.

So why the difference between golf and other sports?

Photo Credit – pocketwiley via Flickr

Neatly filed under Purpose,Skippiness on April 10, 2009

I’ve trained and raced in Oakley sunglasses over the years. To be honest I can take ‘em or leave ‘em. I like the way they keep the wind and dust out of my eyes but they scratch up too easily and I end up with a hole in my wallet.

No product is for everybody, and that’s ok.

Skippy Customers?

Chris Brogan today reports from Oakley headquarters in California with two stories of evangelical customers. In the first, Chris is telling a friend how Oakley test their glasses for safety and is overheard by a soldier, who says,

“I know. The swelling on my face finally just went down after four weeks. Everything but right here was trashed.” (“Right here” was where his sunglasses protected him.)

The soldier is wearing Oakley.

Skippy Staff?

To create products that generate that kind of belief, Oakley likes to attract a certain kind of person. This is how they describe themselves under Careers at Oakley on their About page …

It’s in our DNA to identify problems, create inventions and wrap those inventions in art. Some call it a relentless drive to make things better. We call it Mad Science, and it lives in everything that fuels our passion.

Our headquarters in Orange County, California is home to creative people who find equal time for the sports and Mad Science that define our culture. We open our doors to people who embrace work and life with equal passion.

Is it true? During his visit Chris has lunch in the cafeteria,

“Everyone was happy, full of energy and really excited. Sure, every day there can’t be amazing and delightful, but folks looked pretty darned excited.”

Pat McIlvain, VP of Sports Marketing, told Chris,

“sales staff stick around an average of eight years.”

Whilst it’s always easier working for the market leader, people leave bad bosses no matter what, so sales staff sticking around probably stand for good management.

Not always. Plenty of places with low staff turnover are under-managed and under-led with a culture of under-performance.

Oakley’s not one of them. Market leadership and long term financial performance point to the expectation of excellence. This is not a company of slackers.

Skippy Owners?

Now, assuming the owners are getting what they want (and the only way to find out is to ask) Oakley makes it to the skippy list.

Neatly filed under Skippiness on March 30, 2009