Posted on 08/12/2004 2:12:32 PM PDT by ex-snook
Wiffle Ball Inc. Has Changed Little In The 50 Years Since Company Was Founded
By FRAN SILVERMAN / Courant Staff Writer
August 1 2004
The year was 1954.
In New York, Yogi Berra was having an MVP season. In Boston, Ted Williams was belting 'em into the bleachers. And in Norwalk, another legend was in the making.
David N. Mullany founded a company to mass-produce his new invention. It was a hollow plastic baseball carved with eight slots and holes that let 10-year-olds throw curveballs that even Yankee ace Whitey Ford would envy.
The ball danced and swerved so well in backyard games that many who swung at it hit nothing but air, making a "whiff" sound.
Fifty years later, walk into the headquarters of The Wiffle Ball Inc. in Shelton, and it's as if Yogi, Ted and Whitey were still in their prime. A member of the Mullany clan is sitting behind one of the worn metal desks, taking an order over the phone, jotting it down on a pad and totaling prices on a desktop adding machine.
The Mullany at the desk is the founder's son. Thirteen years old when the company started, David A. Mullany - his middle initial is different from his father's - is 63 now. In May, he stepped aside as president and passed the title to his son, David J. Mullany - yet another middle initial - who is 39.
In 50 years, the middle initial of the president is one of the few things that has changed. In an age of video games and 100-channel cable TV, the ball maintains its original design and remains a backyard staple.
"No matter what else a kid gets in his or her toy box, there is a space for the Wiffle ball," said Chris Byrne, president of Byrne Communication Inc., a New York-based toy consultant firm. "It's inexpensive. It's recession-proof. It's something kids and parents play with."
The company still has only about 15 permanent employees, including the new president's brother, Stephen Mullany, 37, the vice president.
Their grandfather, David N., played baseball at the University of Connecticut and in industrial leagues in Bridgeport. Down on his luck, he tried selling car polish, but the business failed in 1953. He kept its demise a secret from his family, pretending to go to work each day. One evening that summer, his son was in the yard, struggling to throw a curveball.
Father and son took plastic balls used in packaging and experimented by cutting holes in them. They eventually decided that the eight-slot ball worked best.
David N. started selling the balls at a local diner, hired a marketer and reached an agreement with Woolworth stores to sell the balls retail. The company incorporated the next year.
Fifty years later, the Mullany brothers are in the office in T-shirts, jeans and sneakers. On this day, they, too, are answering phones, jotting down orders and checking on inventory and production.
David J., the third-generation president, says his title doesn't really mean much. His father still comes to the office every day, and brother Stephen is on an equal footing, handling mostly production.
"It's pretty informal," David J. said. "Everyone has overlapping responsibilities. I load boxes and answer phones. If stuff needs to get done and you are available, you do it."
The pace is far from frantic, with the Christmas rush not due to begin until later in the summer. Slow and steady is the operational mantra here, the Mullanys say.
Out in the back of the brick building, the process of turning plastic pellets into balls is automated now. But the ball's design hasn't changed. And the company remains a family operation with no intention of going public.
The Wiffle baseball retails for about $1.25 to $1.50. Over the years, the company has added to its line a Wiffle softball, Wiffle golf balls, a plastic ball with no holes and a flying ring called the Scaler.
Revenue and production numbers remain closely held secrets.
When David A. Mullany handed over the reins to David J. in May, there was little hoopla. The family had planned to go out to dinner to mark the occasion, but at the last minute decided it was more important to attend - what else - a Little League game.
As the third-generation president, David J. said he will concentrate on trying to take the company into the 21st century by updating its computer system. But the company isn't trying to develop any major new products or expand overseas. The Wiffle, family members say, still sells itself.
"We are just so well known for clean, backyard fun," the president said.
Still, the brothers say they must keep watch over what gets young people's attention.
When the Wiffle was invented, baseball was America's favorite pastime, and neighborhood kids would gather in somebody's yard, or even the street, to play ball.
Now, with so many two-income and single-parent households, children are in extended day care or any of dozens of after-school activities that didn't exist in the 1950s. When they are home, they can turn to the Internet, cable TV and video games.
Despite the competition for kids' time, the Mullanys say, Wiffle has survived because baby-boomer parents are still buying it for their children. A Wiffle ball - even when hit solidly with a plastic bat - doesn't travel anywhere near as far as a real baseball, so games can be contained in the backyard, and with just a few players.
Although the company doesn't do major advertising - its only major media campaign was in the 1960s, when Whitey Ford endorsed the product in a TV commercial - the brand name has remained popular and in the public's eye.
Analyst Byrne said that although the time children spend playing outdoor sports has declined, the sales of sports toys has not. "The time kids have to play has contracted, but sales have expanded. Parents have been planning more unstructured time for their kids. It's a big issue with parents," Byrne said.
Wiffle leagues abound throughout the country, and intramural leagues are staples on many college campuses. Some leagues have been granted permission to use the trademark Wiffle name in advertising tournaments.
The Mullanys say they haven't had any major dips in sales, and that, in fact, sales are rising. But that's all they will reveal about revenue or production.
The company's signature eight-hole ball is carried by a variety of retailers - Toys `R' Us, drug and grocery chains, and sporting goods stores such as the Sports Authority.
The company has also gotten merchandising boosts from Major League Baseball teams such as the New York Mets, who have put their team logos on the Wiffle and given them away in stadium promotions.
One of the company's concessions to the 21st century: It has a website, www.wiffleball.com, although it doesn't sell online.
But the company has collaborated with Kraft foods to launch online Wiffle ball games at Kraft's candystand.com website. The site offers online baseball, football and other games, but Wiffle l gets more than half a million game plays each month - the most of any game on candystand.com.
"The appeal is amazing," said Kraft spokesman Lawrence Baumann."For some people who may have not been great athletes, it's a chance to imitate professional athletes, star players."
Candystand.com founded a Wiffle Hall of Fame last year, and this year will induct another class of players. Professional baseball players who played Wiffle ball growing up and amateur Wiffle players are eligible for the hall. Thousands of people wrote to the site to nominate candidates last year, Baumann said.
The Mullanys say they might consider developing a Wiffle video game for home computers if they are approached. But they're not rushing to create it themselves. They still see the Wiffle as an outdoor toy, designed to get people out in the fresh air, playing ball and getting exercise.
If there is a threat to the Wiffle ball company, it's not competition for kids' time. It's the threat to the Wiffle trademark.
"It's people trying to use our name and put it on a different product," Stephen Mullany said.
The design of the eight-slot Wiffle is patented. But that hasn't stopped many companies over the years from trying to use the name in knockoffs.
"We don't want Wiffle to become a generic name for a product," Stephen Mullany said.
By changing the design slightly - such as adding a slit on the top or the bottom of the ball - other manufacturers sell similar products. But the Mullanys say they don't concern themselves with that competition unless it uses the Wiffle name.
Over the years, several companies have tried to purchase the business. Offers still come in at least twice a month, the family says. But the Mullanys say they've never had good reason to sell.
"One has to do something, and I was happy working with my father and I'm very happy working with my sons," David A. said. "We have had many offers, but I've seen good products gobbled up by bigger companies, and then the products fade into oblivion. There is nothing wrong with being a small company."
Especially one that keeps its eye on the ball.
Copyright 2004, Hartford Courant
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Ah yes... I grew up playing whiffle-ball...
Remember Tap-N-Bat?
wiffle bump!
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