Can we get the ever astute and always valued opinion e-Richie to hold forth on this? How would you feel about marketing a 'out of house' Sachs frame made by someone else, presuming it was made to your specs, and to meet your standards? (feel lousy?) Is the customer getting a 'raw' deal?
Dennis Young
Hotaka, Japan
>
> Maynard Hershon lives in Tucson. He's been writing about
> bicycling and motorcycling since 1983.
>
> We've been fans of Maynard Hershon's cycling columns since
> he first started writing them. Recently Maynard graciously
> sent us some of his work to host on the Planet Ultra site,
> including one exclusive, never-before-published article that
> follows below.
>
> While we were at it, we went ahead and built an "Unofficial
> Maynard Hershon Webpage" that includes links to all of the
> other Maynard articles that we could find on the 'net. Of
> course, this is just the tip of the iceberg. He's as
> prolific as his words are enlightening and entertaining. So,
> we extend a big thank you to Maynard for providing some of
> his great articles. And we ask you Maynard fans to send us
> links to any of his other articles that you may find
> elsewhere on the 'net. Enjoy!
>
> (If you like his work, please let us know and we'll pass
> along your comments to Maynard.)
>
> What's a Masi?
> By Maynard Hershon
>
> In the '70s, Masi bicycles were super-popular in the States.
> Faliero Masi had a fine reputation, having built bikes for
> many stars, some of whom rode Masis disguised as other
> brands -- their teams had bike sponsors but the stars
> preferred Masis. Or that's what we heard.
>
> Few of our Masis were Italian. Ours were made in San Diego
> County in a shop set up by Faliero or his son Alberto to
> make bikes identical to Italian Masis. They looked
> identical, anyway.
>
> We heard in those days that our Masis weren't brazed up in
> that factory, but were made cottage-industry-style by small
> builders scattered around the country. We heard that one guy
> built 56s, another 57s. We figured all the frames were
> painted and decaled at Masi in San Diego.
>
> That was fine with us. No matter who had made them, they
> looked the same: same fork blades, same lovely scalloped
> seatstay caps, either of two styles of fork crowns. They
> looked like Masis.
>
> In the mid-'80s, my friend David Schnitzer was lucky enough
> to live and work in Milan. He'd always admired Masis, so
> naturally he visited the Masi shop under the Vigorelli
> velodrome. He and Alberto became buddies.
>
> Schnitz bought a white track frame from Alberto, with a road
> fork in it drilled for a brake. Nearly 15 years later, it's
> still Schnitz's winter bike and maybe his favorite bike. To
> this day, he treasures a photo of the two of them, Alberto
> and Schnitz, in the Masi shop. They're standing behind
> Schnitz's Masi, arms around each other, big grins on both
> faces.
>
> Schnitz did suspect, hanging around there, that all the
> bikes weren't made at the Masi shop. He figured little
> builders here and there were making frames that would
> eventually be painted and decaled at Masi.
>
> Because it all happened to some Masi's order, Faliero's or
> Alberto's, it didn't bother Schnitz at all.
>
> In the mid-'90s, Schnitz saw a used but newly repainted
> black US Masi road frame at a shop in the States. He bought
> it to replace his 17-year old Lighthouse. So for the last
> half-decade, Schnitz has owned only Masis, the Italian
> fixed-gear bike and the black US-made road bike.
>
> Schnitz is a Masi kinda-guy.
>
> Recently, when he began thinking about a new bicycle,
> Schnitz went right to the US Masi importer's web site. He
> saw photos of the familiar shrine-like workshop under the
> velodrome and of Faliero brazing on a frame.
>
> He read about the glorious history of Cicli Masi, about the
> hands of the master, the magic of Masi. He read about why a
> guy might pay serious money for a Masi instead of less money
> for some less mystical brand.
>
> Telling that to Schnitz was, duh, preaching to the choir. He
> located a dealer in a nearby city and ordered a new Masi
> road frame.
>
> The frames, he learned, arrive from Italy primered but
> unpainted. The customer chooses a color and has certain
> decal choices. Schnitz liked the Masi 60th Anniversary
> decals and specified them.
>
> He paid for his frame and waited a reasonable length of time
> for its arrival. When it appeared at the dealer, he drove
> there to pick it up and got the big surprise.
>
> The frame did look great, painted inches-deep bright red. It
> didn't look so much like a Masi Gran Criterium, as the old
> externally lugged bikes were called. It looked GOOD, for
> sure, but not so much like a Masi.
>
> As he was about to leave, the shop guy asked Schnitz
> conversationally if he'd ever owned a custom bike. Just one,
> Schnitz answered, meaning his Lighthouse.
>
> The shop guy then said: Next time you buy a bike, you should
> think about a custom Mondonico. After all, he went on,
> pointing at Schnitz's new Masi, that's what this bike is...
>
> Schnitz's new bike is NOT a Masi. No one at Masi, no one at
> the little workshop under the Vigorelli of which Schnitz has
> glowing memories, ever had anything to do with Schnitz's new
> "Masi."
>
> The US importer who sold the bike to the dealer bought the
> right to use the Masi name and Masi logos. He has license to
> use photos of various shop-coated individuals named Masi. In
> order to sell "Masis," he can cite the long history of Cicli
> Masi.
>
> He can do all that to sell bicycles here -- whatever
> bicycles he wants. They're Masis because he says they are.
>
> We are congratulated in his ads and on his web site for our
> taste, for our wisdom in seeking out Masi bicycles, bicycles
> with a past draped in laurel leaves. Then we're sold
> whatever he wants to sell us.
>
> There are also real Masis, or cottage industry Masis, or
> SOMEthing, coming into this country. They are called another
> name. Legally, you can't call THOSE bikes Masis; the "Masi"
> guy has that name locked up.
>
> The "Masi" guy doesn't sell just "Masis." He also offers
> bikes with his own company name on them and bikes with
> another Italian framebuilder's name on them, plus "Masis."
>
> Perhaps they're all made on the same jigs in the same
> building by the same crew. Or by smaller builders in nearby
> towns. Who knows. Whoever makes them, whatever they say on
> them, Schnitz doesn't want his. He'll never build it up,
> never ride it.
>
> He feels misled. The distributor, with whom Schnitz had
> several helpful, friendly phone conversations, should have
> told him the bike was a Masi only by business agreement.
> Both the dealer and the distributor knew of Schnitz's
> personal relationship with, and loyalty to, Masi.
>
> Schnitz didn't want a generic Italian bike. Didn't want any
> bike at all BUT a Masi. He thought all along he was buying
> one. He wasn't satisfied when the distributor assured him
> that Mondonico was the "spiritual heir" to Masi...
>
> Folks I've surveyed about this murkiness fall into two
> categories. Half are cynical; They expect this kind of
> marketing, even in cycling. Others are baffled that an
> imitation can be sold as a true Masi -- or any other bike
> with a craftsman's name on it. How can that be? Or how long
> has it been going on?
>
> What is a Masi, anyway? Why do we care? Aren't all bicycles
> pretty much the same? When we buy a "craftsman" bike, are we
> buying just-a-bike, or are we paying a premium for an art
> object, a useable, limited-production item that we may feel
> is somehow collectable?
>
> Are we easily duped because we've established associations
> with certain products or brands, with the mysteriously
> established images of certain craftspersons? Are we
> manipulated because we're sentimental or image-conscious in
> a callous sales environment?
>
> If the shop guy hadn't blabbed, would Schnitz now be riding
> his "Masi" happily down Pacific northwest roads? Was
> ignorance bliss?
>
> Is a "Masi" as good as a Masi? Can anyone see to the bottom
> of this?
>
> Copyright Maynard Hershon