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Johnny’s Sports Shop is dead. Nestled on the corner of
Pacific and Cathcart in downtown Santa Cruz, Calif., Johnny’s
epitomized America’s mom ‘n’ pop sports shops,
but it is going out of business after 45 years of service to the
community.
It personifies the plight of mom ‘n’ pop sporting
goods stores across the nation, and even in a small town like Santa
Cruz, Johnny’s was strangled to death by chains like Big 5.
The aroma inside Johnny’s is one of Rawlings leather and
stale mothballs, Gatorade gum and Nike athletic shoes. It is half
museum and half sports shop.
News of Johnny’s going out of business struck me like a
Randy Johnson fastball to the skull. OK, so I probably won’t
die in a cloud of feathers and bones like the poor bird he recently
hit, but now I know how Brooklynites must have suffered when the
Dodgers skipped town, how Yankee fans felt when Lou Gehrig hung
’em up, and how all those XFL fools reacted when Mr. McMahon
announced the league was folding like a paper crane.
You have all been to Johnny’s whether you know it or not.
Chances are, you bought your first baseball or softball cleats at a
store very similar to the one with the inviting yellow sign and
perpetually open glass doors. Men and women in these stores
probably showed you how to string a tennis racket, pick out the
perfect bat, or tie your soccer shoes just right, so that the laces
did not ruin your kicks.
For many kids, a visit to Johnny’s was better than a trip
to Disneyland, at least for those of us scared of roller coasters.
The store has old hardwood floors that help those walking with
metal cleats gain traction, something you seldom see in the
careless commercial world of slippery white tiles. The walls are
adorned with posters that send any child of the ’80s into
fits of nostalgic convulsions. The 1989 Bay Bridge World Series,
Darryl “Chocolate Thunder” Dawkins and of course, the
memorable Bo Jackson poster with the shoulder pads and baseball
bat, are among them. Residing between the posters is a gigantic
moose head which may have had no connection to sporting goods but
still looked pretty cool with an Oakland A’s hat perched on
its horn-draped dome.
Johnny’s Sports’ death was not unexpected. I knew it
was sick about five years ago when I had to drive across town to
the Big 5 to find the right size baseball pants. Things just got
too specialized, and athletes seeking an edge turned to mass
production and limitless options. Johnny’s may have carried
Reebok Pump basketball shoes longer than any other shop, but they
were the last to get the new Kobe Bryants. While murderous chain
stores featured those ugly new orange and blue Denver Broncos
Jersey’s, Johnny’s was keeping it real with orange and
yellow striped Houston Astros shirts and original Milwaukee Brewers
hats.
Although there was not another place in town where one could
find more minor league baseball caps, there were clearly not enough
people in town to buy them.
I admit I feel somewhat at fault for the downfall of
Johnny’s Sports. On occasion I have been caught in the
cathedral known as Sportsmart. Just last year I welcomed the new
Copeland’s to Ackerman Union with open arms (and an open
wallet). But through it all, nothing made coming home to Santa Cruz
better than a visit to Johnny’s.
Maybe it all just wasn’t meant to be. Johnny’s first
opened downtown in 1955 but had a second store across town fail in
1996, like Cecil Fielder trying to steal a base. What
Johnny’s never failed to do however, was put smiles on its
patrons’ faces. It was the type of place that taught
youngsters that it wasn’t whether you wore the Air
Jordan’s or the Bo Jackson Crosstrainers that was important,
but how you played the game.
Perhaps this is indicative of a trend in sports towards
de-personalization. In the late 1980s (also known as Johnny’s
glory years), sports seemed much more interactive. The Oakland
A’s had a special day when every kid in attendance got to run
the bases before the game, not with their parents but with members
of the team. Athletes did not charge money for autographs, and
hometown heroes donated funds to the local high schools and Little
League programs.
Times have definitely changed. When my high school sought to
build a new baseball field two years ago, a certain local
professional baseball player declined to contribute funds. Despite
his multi-million dollar contract, he seemed numb to the needs of
the community.
The newer, larger sporting goods shops are not numb to the
community in general. Because they carry so much equipment,
everyone’s needs are usually met. But what about the
left-handed catcher who needs help with his chest protector, or the
16-year-old pitcher who needs his glove relaced in 15 minutes so he
can make his game on time? You cannot tell me that the *NSYNC
wannabe working at Big 5, making money to fund his hair-dye
collection, will be able to help these young athletes.
That was the lure of Johnny’s and all other down-home
sports shops. They truly care, even at the expense of their
profits. These shops, like player-managers and football players who
play every down are dying institutions.
Saving them should become a priority, if for no other reason
than for the preservation of history. No one likes to return home
from college to find that their favorite store is extinct. You do
not need to boycott the chains, but it can’t hurt to go out
of your way to help support the stores that supported you when you
were a kid. If nothing else, it might ease the constriction the
chains put on our mom ‘n’ pop shops.
Then, even if your Johnny’s Sports dies, at least you can
say you played your best.