I’ve never been one to follow rules. Frankly, my mantra in life has always been that rules are made to be broken. It’s why I didn’t listen to my parents when they told me to stop using the internet and go to bed as a kid. It’s why I didn’t go to class at Penn, and spent my time running an eBay store and playing hoops instead. It’s why I didn’t follow the rest of my classmates down the path of becoming an investment banker after college. And it sure as hell is the reason why I’m not about to follow some bullshit exclusivity rules that border on the verge of on an anti-trust lawsuit.
Let me explain.
One of the main ways that we at Krossover are able to educate coaches across America about our kick-ass product is by going to coaching clinics. These are 1-3 day events that are held around the country, and are supposed to help coaches learn about their profession, about the tools that are available to them, and to let them go back home armed with as much information as possible to help them be better coaches to their kids. Much of this centers around hearing collegiate and professional coaches speak, so that the high school and lower level college coaches can learn coaching philosophies, plays, drills, etc. Another major part of clinics is the ability for vendors to showcase their products to the coaches so that they can make the best and most informed decision possible on what they need to make their programs better. It’s our version of a trade show.
Well, unfortunately clinics aren’t run by people that care all that much about the best interest of the coaches who attend said clinics. They do care about money though. As a result, the vast majority of them have decided that they are willing to do exclusive deals with certain vendors, especially those with relatively deep pockets such as technology companies, in order to prevent competing vendors from being able to attend the clinics. It’s one thing if we were talking million dollar deals like the ones that professional sports leagues get. Sure, if Samsung is willing to give you $20M to be the exclusive technology partners of the NBA, you’re going to try your best to use Samsung Tablets in the NBA Dunk contest, even though they suck. But is the NBA going to keep iPhone users from entering the stadium? Of course not – they aren’t stupid. They are going to take Samsung’s money and they are going to double dip by letting everyone else do their thing. But these clinic organizers are so dense, that for a measly couple of grand, they are willing to not only do their own coaches a disservice by not letting them experience all the products in the marketplace, but they are willing to lose out on the potential money that other vendors would be willing to pay to attend the event, even if they weren’t the main sponsor. Greedy and stupid – that’s a dangerous combination.
Which is why we’ve declared war on coaching clinics across America. We will not stand by as moronic clinic organizers fuck over the coaches that spend their hard earned money to attend these clinics in the first place. We will show up regardless of your idiotic “exclusive sponsorship agreements”. We’ll come as part of another company. We’ll come as a made up company. We’ll show up as an attendee. We’ll wear a mask and come in dressed like it’s halloween. You will get so sick and tired of my team finding 10 new ways to hustle into your clinic each week that you will need to hire a full time person just to police the event and look for us. And the cost of that person is going to grossly outweigh the sponsorship money you just got, so do yourself a favor and wisen up to the fact that we will find a way to circumvent your stupid rules no matter what you do.
Look, I get it. Our competitor, Hudl, is scared shitless because our product is infinitely better than theirs. We are creeping in on their football territory and they want to protect it at all costs. They are offering you some money and telling you not to let us come to the clinics. They absolutely do not want anyone to hear about us. I’d be scared too if I were them. If only they spent all this time and money working on their product, instead of trying to pay off clinics and then policing the clinics to find my sales guys roaming around the convention, they might have a chance. But instead, they’ve decided to play the petty game of tattling to the clinic organizers every time they spot a Krossover employee in the crowd. Lame.
So, to all the clinic organizers and the fine folk down in Lincoln, Nebraska, I say to you, fuck your exclusive sponsorships. If you can’t compete on product, you’re just delaying the inevitable. See you at the next clinic. You can bet your bottom dollar, we’ll be there.
We take no prisoners at Krossover. We’re a startup and we give zero fucks.