The next Fanatics fiasco: Shoddy Goods 011
It's Shoddy Goods time! I'm Jason Toon with another issue of the newsletter from Meh about the stuff people make, buy, and sell. We missed our chance to do something on the Fanatics fiasco last spring, but conveniently, they might be about to ruin another sport. If you don't know what I'm talking about, read on - you don't have to be a sports fan to know bullshit when you see it.
It was THE story of baseball's spring training earlier this year. Not some rookie phenom or newly assembled roster of superstars, but… visible testicles.
Not to mention awkward fits, and mismatched pants and shirts, and unreadably tiny player names on the backs of the jerseys, and rampant sweat stains, and uniforms that weren't, y'know, uniform. This mess was the entirely predictable outcome of a new partnership between Major League Baseball, Nike, and the company that has become synonymous with disastrously shitty sports gear among fans the world over: Fanatics.
"Which do you love more, our peekaboo pants or our mismatched sleeves?"
This was Fanatics' first-ever partnership with a major sports league, the first time actual superstars took the field in Fanatics apparel. On their biggest stage yet, the world-devouring merchandise monopoly face-planted so hard they left teeth in the turf. As we used to say on the Internet, you love to see it.
Loathsome Fanatics CEO Michael Rubin whined that the company was "getting the shit kicked out of us" and tried to pin the blame on Nike's designs. But whatever the details, the Fanatics reputation for terrible quality was well-earned, as was their relentless public roasting. At least the "authentic" Fanatics gear was finally authentic: the players' jerseys were every bit as crappy as the ones sold to customers.
MLB finally backpedaled and announced that the old jerseys would come back next year. But don't worry, fans of comically dressed professional athletes: the National Hockey League may just be beginning their own Fanatics fail.
Hey, at least you got the right numbers. It costs extra to get them in the right order. Photo by Twitter user @GearGoneWrong.
The robber baron of ripoff replicas
If you don't know much about Michael Rubin and Fanatics, I envy you. Suffice to say he's the worst kind of late-capitalist fake celebrity business vampire, banking billions of dollars for nothing more than his ability to shmooze for money and drive quality standards down. Rubin's cringey world of premium cigars, private Megan Thee Stallion performances, and GDP-priced jewelry is too depressingly predictable and infuriating to bother detailing here. Google him, if you've got a strong stomach.
Here's how Rubin pays for all those Nobu-catered white parties. Longtime respected sports-related companies like baseball-card legends Topps and apparel manufacturer Majestic have a high public profile, but in business terms, they aren't huge. They've tended to be privately held, specialized firms who concentrate on a narrow product range and a certain level of quality.
The signature Fanatics tactic is to swipe those companies' biggest contracts with bids they can't possibly match, then swoop in to buy the now-collapsing companies for a fraction of what they were worth before Fanatics muscled them out of the business. That's such a perfect illustration of how monopolies are built, it should be in every history textbook's chapter on Teddy Roosevelt.
No wonder Fanatics' reputation has come unglued hahahahasob. Photo by Twitter user @leaveittobutler.
How does Fanatics afford it? By producing their products so cheaply they can make it up with huge margins. As Morty Seinfeld could tell you, the cheaper the fabric, the bigger the profits. Illicit knockoffs are higher-quality than the merchandise that's officially licensed by the most prestigious sports leagues in the world. The fans get screwed.
I'm not the only one throwing around the word "monopoly". At least two different antitrust lawsuits against Fanatics are in the courts. One class-action suit alleges that Fanatics and the NFL collude to limit competition and inflate prices. The other, filed by Italian trading card and sticker company Panini, accuses Fanatics of anticompetitive behavior like inducing the NFL Players Association to illegally terminate its contract with Panini. But for king of the douchebros Michael Rubin, the Don Julio "1942" tequila keeps on flowing.
Mounties to the rescue?
Meanwhile, hockey fans are freaking out. Despite Fanatics PR like a shameful puff piece in The Athletic, fans have chosen to believe the evidence of their own experiences with Fanatics and expect the worst. The rumblings of discontent actually started when the NHL contract was announced in 2023, well before the first MLB player went involuntarily commando. And the early evidence isn't looking good for Fanatics. In June, their crummy-looking Stanley Cup champion hats confirmed their reputation for chintzy cheapness.
Then, during a practice earlier this month, the Seattle Kraken's Matty Beniers tore his Fanatics jersey right down the seam, a sure sign of low-grade stitching. During practice. Uh-oh.
UNSTITCH THE KRAKEN!
Lest you dismiss hockey as a smaller stage than baseball, let's not forget one place where hockey is beyond religion, a place that also has a more vigorously interventionist conception of government's regulatory role: Canada.
How will Canadians react to the sacrilege of their beloved Leafs and Habs jerseys degraded with sub-knockoff quality and ridiculously tiny lettering? Rubin's tryhard Kendall Roy schtick may have beguiled easily manipulated wannabe-cool American executives, but north of the border it'll land like a tanker leaking adulterated maple syrup.
With a Canadian federal election due in 2025, politicians would be cross-checking each other to be the first in line to bust up the Fanatics monopoly. All it takes is a few U.S. prosecutors or legislators to see that crack in the armor and get emboldened to dig into the company's competitive practices, and things could get as uncomfortable for Fanatics as a too-small pair of uniform pants.
A legion of dissatisfied customers hasn't done it. The unanimous irritation of every MLB player not on the Nike dole hasn't done it. The lawsuits haven't done it. But if Fanatics messes with hockey, Canada just might break the monopoly and be the saviour of every American sports fan. And yes, that's "saviour" with a U.
It’s oddly pleasing to see that we get an actual villain in Michael Rubin, to go along with what had just seemed like truly awful uniform decisions. On the other hand, I wish I hadn’t seen some of these extra revealing links. Got any uni-thoughts? Head over to this week’s Shoddy Goods chat and let’s hear ‘em!
—Dave (and the rest of Meh)
Like Fanatics products, satisfaction isn't guaranteed with these past Shoddy Goods pieces either, but at least they don't cost you $400: