The Business I Did Not Start
With any hope of breakeven in my lifetime, I would have to charge $1,625 to $2,925 per print.
I asked some Nutmeg members if they were interested. One or two were enthusiastic. Most shrugged it off.
At the time, curling was a minor sport played mostly by folks in the lower economic sphere: farmers, blue-collar workers and bar flies. To attend a bonspiel, few ponied up cash for airfare. Rather they drove for hours, bunked into economy motels, four to a room and ate on the cheap.
For national competitions Peggy flew to such venues as Fargo, N.D. (potato country) or Bemidji, Minn. (the "iron range"), where the economies were in the tank.
For example, in Hibbing Minn., Peggy slipped on the ice and broke her ankle. Friends drove her to the hospital. It had no doctor. An administrator called around town and found a pediatrician who drove over. He read the X-ray and set the ankle.
The pediatrician's parting words: "When you get to Connecticut, see your doctor there, because basically I don't know what I'm doing."
In short, trying to sell high-end curling prints in this environment was preposterous.
Did Lists Exist?
Nah. The Curling News was published sporadically by a sweet older couple with (as I recall) 3,000 subscribers. Many issues were sent to curling clubs rather than individuals.
An ad in Curling News—although cheap—would pull bupkis.
Curling was (and is) huge in Canada, where 1 million avid curlers play in public and private ice facilities all over the country.
However, at the time, the Canadian Dollar was worth USD $0.60, which meant one of my LeRoy Neiman prints would be priced at $2,700 to $4,900 Canadian.
Curling was big in Europe—Scotland, Switzerland, Scandinavia, etc. But were lists available? Had any of them heard of LeRoy Neiman?