What I learned about startups from: Buying a mini-bike
The first rule of pitching or selling…
In 1975 I was cast in my first play, a community theater production about the life of Johnny Appleseed. Since it was children’s theater, kids played all the parts and my role was old man Appleseed. I only remember two things about the production: I hated it and I died on stage.
I don’t mean I did poorly. I mean my character dies of old age under an apple tree uttering something meaningful with his last breath. Do an image search for “preposterous” and you can see a photo of my performance.
I begged my mom to let me quit.
Knowing that my friend Rusty had a used Honda mini-bike for sale, my mom told me that if I stuck it out, she would buy it for me. He had it priced at $150 which was a steal. Normally a bike like that would cost well over $500.
I wasn’t spoiled. I was the youngest of seven kids and we were poor. My best toy was a “GI Joe” missing both his feet that I found in the neighbor’s garbage.
So my mom saying she could scrape $150 together sounded wonderfully unbelievable. Rusty said he would hold the mini-bike for me.
The play ran two months and I didn’t mention the mini-bike again. My mom hadn’t said anything about it since our agreement and forcing her to admit she didn’t have the money seemed cruel.
But the day after the play closed my mom came into my room and said, “Let’s go get the Honda.”
My mind’s blank on how I reacted. I guess that’s the shock of a dream coming true.
Mom and I walked the several blocks to Rusty’s house so she could set a slow pace on the way home when I was taking my first ride.When we got there, Rusty’s mom was cleaning out the garage. I hadn’t ever been to his house.
“Rusty your friend’s here,” she called to him.
“We are here to buy the mini-bike,” my mom said to her. The adults would handle the financial transaction. I looked around the garage waiting for Rusty. He would have to give me a few pointers on riding.
“What mini-bike?” she answered.
There was no mini-bike. Rusty hadn’t sold it. It never existed. Rusty thought it was a great gag making me think he had one. We had ridden a Honda 70 together. That wasn’t his.
Decades later, my first rule in business is make sure there’s a mini-bike.
Lessons learned about startups:
- Spend time, energy and other resources only when you know there’s a mini-bike [ability to reach your goal]. Activity without the potential for the desired outcome makes you “busy” and can trick you into thinking you’re on the right track and wastes your valuable time.
- Don’t pitch or sell to gatekeepers. Many inexperienced salespeople pat themselves on the back if they talk to anyone even if it’s the receptionist. Your goal with a gatekeeper is to get an appointment with the person who has the mini-bike and can actually give you a “yes” or a “no”.
- Unless it’s for practice, only pitch your startup to people who have mini-bikes [vetted investors]. Some friends argue that you never know who someone might know. My opinion, however, is spend your time finding the right person(s) or groups and pitch to them directly.
Pitching is an emotional roller coaster and pitching to mini-bike-less investors drains your enthusiasm because ultimately the only answer they can give you is “no”.
If you are like me and building a start-up you have no time to waste. I hope you find your mini-bike, whatever that might be for you.
