4 Things I Wish I Knew Before Getting A Deal On Shark Tank
by Magesh
Everyone has their own personalized “become a millionaire” fantasy, and it could be anything from lottery numbers finally matching your birthday to starting a successful business that Amazon eventually overpays you for. When I lived in Australia, mine was to strike a deal on Shark Tank — and I did. It did not, however, go as anticipated. For example …
The Audition Process Includes Speaking With An Actual Psychologist
I'd been on television before, so I knew a few things about auditioning, like what the producers were looking for or how the editing guys could make you look like a jackass. Shark Tank actually took things to an entirely new level with that process -- if you've ever watched a reality show and thought someone seemed legitimately insane, well, Shark Tank wanted to be damn sure that you legitimately weren't.
Pixabay
“Ha ha, I was totally kidding about that ‘shoes were made from the hides of my fallen enemies’ thing.”
Which is why they make you see an actual, definitely-real psychologist before letting you loose in a room full of rich people without an armed escort. I assume it's mostly just to see if you'll crack under pressure when the cameras start rolling, because the first thing the psychologist asked me was if I thought I could handle the stress of being seen by 1 million viewers on TV. I, of course, responded confidently that I had performed musically at a sporting event in front of a televised audience of 100 million people (true story), so the thought of being in front of a measly million wouldn't even give me “butterflies in my tummy.”
Yes, I said those words.
Obviously, there are people beyond the psychiatrist you have to audition with, like a finance person to initially assess what you're asking for to see if it's even in the realm of reality. You might not be crazy according to the mental health professional, but the numbers guy might have his own opinion about that if you waltz in asking someone to invest seven figures in your sausage-flavored ice cream business.
The Sharks Legitimately Know Nothing About You Beforehand
Everybody knows that what you see on reality TV isn't always 100% real. No matter what, the show has to be interesting to watch, and sometimes real life is nothing more than a bunch of boring-ass people in boring-ass situations. So we all just kind of accept that certain liberties are taken to make it entertaining.
And that's exactly what I expected about pitching my idea to the Sharks. I mean yeah, on the show it looks like people just walk out on stage and then 10 minutes later have a dream deal with a multi-millionaire. But surely, I assumed, the information obtained during my audition would have been passed along to the sharks, because despite what I’d seen on TV, I knew these successful people couldn't make huge deals based on a 60-second pitch from someone they knew absolutely nothing about. That facade was just something they did for the viewing audience, because of course it was.
Pixabay
“You have a thing to be sold for money? Brilliant! Here’s $1 million!”
Or wasn't, actually. They seriously knew nothing about my idea until I told it to them.
That surprised the hell out of me, especially since the audition process was so in-depth and time consuming. How could they not let the Sharks know who I was? In hindsight, the reason is apparent: actual authenticity. And while that may seem stupidly obvious, it probably shouldn't be – singing competition hosts aren't exactly sly about their obviously-leading personal questions for the contestants they’ve just “met.”
Plus, it adds a lot of pressure to the entrepreneur because so much rides on the pitch, which makes for better TV. So yeah, the process isn't exactly like you see it on the show for lots of different reasons, but the part about the Sharks making a decision on the spot is absolutely legit. And that's really, super important, because you see ...
The Perfect Product Means Nothing If Your Pitch Sucks
I auditioned for the second series of Shark Tank, but I didn't make the cut, and I'm sure that had precisely zero to do with my business idea and everything to do with the audition process.
After going through the initial interviewing steps, I was invited to audition with four producers and a finance guy. I told them that I actually wanted to license my invention (headphones with a retractable cord), which is basically renting the idea for the invention to a big company that would sell it and just send me royalty checks. Surprisingly, one of the producers interviewing me didn't seem to know what that was or how it worked. The money dude explained it to him, which I think made him feel dumb, because when that happened he promptly told me he had seen enough.
About an hour later, a camera operator from the show saw me and decided to approach. “I shouldn't tell you this, but I'm nearly 100 percent certain you won't be on the show,” he said. When I asked why, he replied, “You called one of the producers 'Mark' three or four times. His name is Gary.”
And that, dear readers, is when I took out my phone and made a note to “google name learning tricks.”
Of course, I felt defeated. I had devoted so much time and energy into getting everything perfect, and really believed my product would be a hit with consumers. But alas, my dream was shattered, and all because one individual looked way more like a Mark than a Gary. I'm telling you, his face was total Mark City, you guys.
But even without that gaffe, my chances had been slim, what with my three-piece suit and slides and posters and market analysis. I had forgotten the fact that this was a TV show, so they weren't just looking for a solid business idea. They wanted pizzazz, so the next time I auditioned I played a drum solo dressed in a jacket that looked like it was trying to be a lion's mane, a top hat, and a florescent green beard that nicely rounded out the “Dennis Rodman meets Joe Exotic” look.
Network 10
Seriously. That’s me about to ask some rich people to trust me with their money.
Laugh all you want – I got a deal with a billionaire on that episode. Unfortunately ...
Getting A Deal On The Show Doesn't Mean You'll Actually Get One
After the filming of the show wraps up, the Sharks' legal teams do their due diligence and go through the entrepreneur's patent or trademark applications and profit and loss statements and other businessy things. For obvious reasons, everyone involved wants to make sure you're not lying out of your ass.
Pixabay
Or lying at all, regardless of whether or not asses are involved.
I never made it to this stage. After the show, I was introduced to the assistants for the two Sharks I got a deal with, and ... that's about it. I contacted them afterwards, but was quickly brushed off. I continued to follow up for several months, trying to schedule a face-to-face meeting, but was always told there was no room in the schedule. There was a brief glimmer of hope at one point when one of the Sharks copied me in on an email they had sent to some company asking if they were interested in my product. If they were I have no idea, because I have received no further communication from anyone after that one email.
I'm still not entirely sure why my deal fell apart. What I do know is that my letter of resignation to my current boss still sits in my bedside drawer. But I am very much the eternal optimist, and have continued pitching my inventions to a variety of different companies in the four years since I appeared on Shark Tank. Nowadays, however, I do it without the top hat and the green beard.
