Danny Goldberg clenches his fists, clenches his teeth, and begins throwing punches at his reflection. Facing a mirror-lined wall in a square room in Archbold Gymnasium, Goldberg begins rocking back and forth, switching pressure from his forward right foot to his back left one. Dressed in a white waffle long sleeve tee, white Under Armour gym shorts and somber grey sneakers with hints of burnt orange, Goldberg’s muscle memory takes over his warm up.
Left punch, right punch, uppercut, duck. Left, right, uppercut, duck. For several minutes, Goldberg punches. His rhythmic breathing is the only sound escaping through his clenched jaw. “Chhh, chhh, chhh.” Left, right, uppercut, duck. “Chhh, chhh, chhh.” Goldberg has performed this warm-up since he was 11-years-old and took up kickboxing. Now a junior information management major at Syracuse University, he is the founder and COO of Golden Gear, the company selling boxing equipment, like gloves and head gear, to ensure maximum safety and comfort. Pieces sell anywhere from $60 to $300.
When Goldberg decided to begin competing at 15, he amped up his training. He worked out multiple times a day and strictly eliminated carbs and sweets from his diet. He trained hard and the results proved it. “A lot of people say fighting is 90 percent mental and only 10 percent of it’s your actual skills,” he says. “’Cause so much of it is how hard can you can get hit and not stop,” huffs Goldberg as a tiny rim of sweat lines his forehead.
Constantly knocked down during fights by contenders twice his five foot seven, Goldberg always got back up. The real trouble arose during his training sessions, when his hard efforts resulted in injuries from poor equipment protection. His wrist, 14 head stitches, and shin injuries were the final straws. At 16, Goldberg knew he had to create protection and save others from feeling like a baseball bat had been swung into their lower legs.
As a single droplet of sweat rolls down his face, Goldberg pulls off his waffle tee revealing a short-sleeve “what’s up doc” shirt. He tapes his wrists with fire red tape on one hand and bright yellow on the other, swirling them through his fingers. He secures the tape before pulling on a pair of custom-made gloves. Every glove and piece of equipment he sells is emblazoned with a large phoenix, his logo, with a tail that flows into a double G. Goldberg wanted his company symbol to incorporate the idea of rising up. The sport of boxing has always been the same, according to Goldberg, but through his brand, he’s evolving the game, growing it like a rising phoenix. “These gloves have a lot more padding than a traditional glove,” Goldberg says as he presses play on his music. “It just makes you feel a lot more confident. Especially when you’re getting hit, you really want gear that’s protecting you.” The sound of Drake’s rapping echoes throughout the room. One window above the wall of mirrors lingers open, letting in a cool draft.
Goldberg starts rocking back and forth, right leg than left, getting ready to bang on the black boxing bag, torn and destroyed, hanging in the corner. “Bigger companies already know what they’re doing. They can just stamp their logo on anything…this piece-of-shit bag; we can do so much better,” he says. “We just care more.” Goldberg is more than a salesman trying to sell to his customer. He is his customer. He’s been in their shoes, and he still is now. He understands the need for great equipment, but realizes that every fighter has different tastes and preferences than his own. So Goldberg makes the effort to know and understand each one. He responds to every order with an email, and eventually a phone call, thanking customers for business. He receives pictures through emails or texts from customers with his products, filed and stored on his Mac, from which he runs his business by emailing sales pitches and updating social media. One of his favorite things about his start-up is receiving these pictures, which he constantly looks over on his laptop.
A month ago, Goldberg took a weeklong trip to LA to personally visit gyms and get them on board with Golden Gear. He fights and trains with boxers who use his products, which include professional and championship fighters. Some of the best in the business turn down their sponsor’s equipment for Golden Gear’s. When he visits, he takes in as much feedback as he can. This inquiry allows Goldberg to sketch a new collection about every six months. He sends ideas to his manufacturer in Pakistan, who ships back prototypes. Goldberg has fighters test them and consults with his team—advisors, world-renowned fighters, and an orthopedic hand surgeon—before the final design is approved. He then feels out his equipment, conducting his own research and tests. Sometimes he wears competitor’s gloves to see what’s lacking. In Archbold gymnasium where he works out at least once a day, he sees how his own hold up. He ideally wants his hands to feel invisible.
Goldberg begins throwing jabs. “Pow, pow, pow,” is the sound of impact from his Syracuse colored gloves. He punches with both hands, keeping the pace steady. His eyes are laser-focused on the bag. They quickly shift up to his timer, and just as suddenly back to the target. “Pow. Pow. Pow. Pow. Pow,” his fists are kernels bursting like popcorn. Three minutes have past. Round one is over. Goldberg squats and catches his breath. His forehead is shiny. He’s nowhere near done. “In team sports, you’re a team player, but in boxing, everything you do, it’s all on you,” says Goldberg. “You have to have the mentality that if your opponent is running four miles, you have to run five.”
“When I was going through a bad time with my body, I probably could’ve eaten pizza, nothing would happen. But you’re just thinking maybe my opponent isn’t eating pizza. If he’s not, I’m not,” he says of his mentality with both boxing and business. Just like boxing, business is all about getting one step ahead…and staying there.
The next song streams from Goldberg’s iPhone. Round two. The weak boxing bag swings back and forth and Goldberg starts punching. He grabs the bag and kicks it hard with his shin. He’s punching, punching, and kicking, swinging through his hips and swaying the bag. “[Business is] the mentality of fighting,” he says. “Kill or be killed.” Sweat dribbles across his forehead.
Everything Goldberg does is to progress forward and get ahead. He takes every opportunity to gain an edge, working on Sunday’s when most are resting and listening to customers.The passion Goldberg feels towards boxing and creating protective gear is what allows him to function until 2 a.m. and wake up at nine. It’s what allows him to run Golden Gear in every free moment, while still functioning as a full-time student. This balance of juggling business with school is nevertheless his biggest challenge. Though grateful for his rounded education that helps Golden Gear grow, he finds that classes get in the way. “School is so ineffective if you want to be an entrepreneur,” he says. “College is a great place to start a business, but the fact that I have to take 120 credits and that they don’t have to do with anything that I want to pursue…it’s just a lot of wasted time,” he says. Time that could be put into Golden Gear, and often is. He’s often thinking and scheming for his company while sitting in class. There is never a moment to be wasted for Goldberg, who has already settled on entrepreneurship as his career path.
“You have to chase the dream of doing something good and making your mark on the world, like how your envision it,” he says. “I’ll never work a day in my life for someone else, because I already found my goal. My goal is to help others achieve their dreams while I’m achieving my dreams.” This idea stemmed from his dad, his inspiration to keep going and a huge supporter of his company. All of his friends and family are.
Though Golden Gear was never about making money, he’s made $112,000 to date. All of this profit goes back into the business to help it expand. The goal is to grow Golden Gear to include equipment for all sports, protecting athletes in every field.
As Goldberg prepares for his final three-minute round, the same amount of time a fighting match occurs, he takes off his gloves. Goldberg wipes the sweat off of his forehead before replacing them. He uses speed and force to nail the bag over and over. His eyes flicker from the bag to the timer, his arms fly from the front of his face to the leather of the bag. He’s going, going, going, giving this last round his all.
The three minutes are over. Goldberg resumes his squat, his face and body wet. He feels good. He feels alive. “One passion, which is boxing, led me to my next passion, which is entrepreneurship. It really made me discover why I’m here and what I’m doing with my life. I always wonder if I never went to kickboxing that one time what would’ve happened,” he says. Goldberg predicts that he would be a normal student, unsure of what he wanted in life. But with Golden Gear, he has a goal, one that he wants to grow, and that helps him grow up. He has learned responsibility, dealing with money and creating a profitable item that fighters rely on.
“I have people counting on me for the protection they need,” Goldberg says. “I have pro fighters who are counting on me to give them gloves and equipment to protect their bodies, so that when they’re ready to fight and they’re fighting, they’re ready to go.” This reliance on his equipment brings a sense of pride to Goldberg, bringing along a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.
He’s not an angry person. He has never been in a street-fight. But when he gets in front of a boxing bag, that emotion is just what he channels. “You just get angry. It’s not like you fight with anger. You fight smart,” he says. “But you go into kill mode...Which is why I think boxing is a great sport for business people. Because it really gives you that mentality of kill or be killed.”
Kill or be killed. It’s what brings Golden Gear along, and pushes Goldberg forward. The gloves come off and Goldberg pauses the rap. He wipes his face dry with his white waffle shirt. His boxing practice is complete for the day. Walking out of the square room, the boxing bag slowly swings to a halt. He turns and heads to the stairs. Up in the next level facility a treadmill awaits. Goldberg is ready to begin his three-mile run.