|
August 28, 2005
Blingin' it
Off the field, these folks put finishing touches on the
Chiefs
By J. BRADY McCOLLOUGH
The Kansas City Star
DeJuan Bonds is the Chiefs' hair guy. He knows Chad Dearth
is the Chiefs car guy. Dearth knows that Gene Cullinane is
the jewelry guy, and Cullinane knows Tammy Ledet is the suit
girl.
Cullinane's jewelry makers hooked Bonds up with a necklace showcasing his clippers.
Dearth and his wife use Cullinane for all of their gold and silver needs. Cullinane
has been wowed by Ledet's master touch with a tape measure and only buys suits
from her.
Together, these four stylists have a job to do, along with
massage therapist Brad Potter. The hours of their job are fickle,
just like their clients. They may open up their shop at midnight
or fly across the country on a momen's whim. But that's what
the Chiefs want, and that's how you keep them coming back for
more.
More 26-inch rims. More tires. More paint jobs. More 7-karat
bracelets. More $100 haircuts. More one-of-a-kind suits. More
personal attention.
The Chiefs want it all custom, and they want it now. These
makeover specialists have worked hard to earn the Chiefs' trust,
and now that they're inside the locker room, they don't plan
on going anywhere.
***
Chad Dearth, 31, Owner of KC Trends
The white Hummer H2 with the massive 28-inch wheels? That's
his. The gray Dodge Charger Hemi with the sleek grill on the
front? That's his, too.
Chad Dearth runs a rag over the front of each vehicle and kisses the tires
and wheels with cleaner. To Dearth, his rides look dirty. To the rest of us,
they look out-of-this-world gaudy.
After cleaning, Dearth stands proudly, arms crossed, chest out, in front of
his two most recent acquisitions. When Dearth was in high school at Shawnee
Mission North, all he wanted was some wheels to go with his Mazda mini-truck.
Now he's got 150 wheels hanging on the wall at his store, KC Trends in Shawnee,
so you can't blame him for being proud.
"The stuff we have here," Dearth says, "you can't see anywhere
else in the Midwest."
And that's why the Kansas City Chiefs have his cell phone number on speed dial.
Dearth estimates that he's done wheels, tires and accessories for about 20
current Chiefs players.
"When I started this business," Dearth says, "that's what I wanted.
They have money to spend. But part of getting them is keeping them. The deal
isn't done when they leave. They want to be pampered. It's all about service,
and we bend over backwards."
Dearth made it into the Chiefs locker room through former middle linebacker
Anthony Davis. Now that Dearth is the Chiefs car guy, the job is really pretty
simple: What the Chiefs want, they get -- and they don't like to wait long
for it either.
Dearth offers next-day delivery of their wheels from across the country. If
the Chiefs like, he'll pick-up and deliver their car to Arrowhead. When a Chiefs
player is living at his home away from KC, Dearth will have the car sent to
where he lives.
Safety Greg Wesley comes in to the store at least once a month for something
new.
Wesley recently bought a Bentley and wouldn't drive it or
show it to his teammates until Dearth had changed out the tires
and wheels.
Dearth has worked with cornerback Eric Warfield three or four times. Warfield
wants it all custom. Recently, Dearth painted Warfield's wheels the same color
as the car, a request Dearth had never heard before.
The list goes on and on. Dearth has installed suede headliners, 26-inch flat
screen TVs and iPods. Now that Dearth has earned their trust, the players allow
the guy who used to sell wheels out of his parents' basement to make the right
decisions for them.
"It's up to me," Dearth says. "They know I'm going to lead them
in the right direction."
***
Gene Cullinane, 38, owner of House of Diamonds
Gene Cullinane doesn't make the jewelry he sells for a reason:
He'd crush it. You know this when you shake his thick hand
and wonder how your fingers still have mobility.
Cullinane had a brief NFL career in the late 1980s and early 1990s with the
Pittsburgh Steelers practice squad. He was an undrafted free agent out of Washburn
University in Topeka, where he was a center and an offensive guard. Cullinane,
who then weighed around 300 pounds, found out quickly that football wasn't
going to be his life's work.
"My claim to fame was getting a paycheck," says Cullinane, who today
weighs about 270. "The cards were stacked against me. My experience was
a frustrating one."
When Cullinane was going to Washburn, he learned about jewelry from his friend
who owned a store in town. Once he signed with the Steelers, he started selling
his friend's items to his teammates on the side. When football failed him,
Cullinane saw making jewelry as a "natural transition".
In 1995, Cullinane opened House of Diamonds, a custom jewelry store in Overland
Park. But after a few years, he began to miss being in the locker room with
the guys. So, he decided that getting inside the Chiefs' locker room was the
next best thing. Cullinane started doing the jewelry for the Ambassadors, a
group of retired Chiefs players. The first current Chief to use Cullinane would
be wide receiver Eddie Kennison.
Kennison is a connoisseur of exquisite jewelry, so much so that he came into
the shop to help the workers design one of his pieces, a diamond bracelet.
"He spent hours with our designers," Cullinane says. "The diamonds
were from a mass-produced bracelet. But there were like seven karats worth of
diamonds in there."
The workers removed all of the diamonds from the original bracelet for Kennison
and made him a custom piece. Soon after, though, Kennison damaged the bracelet
while roughhousing in his driveway.
"He called us," Cullinane says, laughing. "He was in tears."
The late night calls from Chiefs players and, usually, coaches have become
ordinary for Cullinane, who has opened up the shop as late as midnight for
his most important clientele.
Cullinane's devotion to the Chiefs paid off two years ago when Kennison thanked
his teammates by designing 60 bracelets, one for each teammate, featuring an
arrowhead, a red ruby and the player's jersey number.
As for Cullinane, he's just happy to be in the locker room again.
"The camaraderie those guys have, that team cohesiveness, to be on the edge
of it is exciting," Cullinane says. "It keeps my memories fresh."
***
DeJuan Bonds, 31, owner of Napps Barbershop
When practice ended on a Thursday afternoon at Chiefs training
camp, a bull rush toward the dorm ensued. This was weird. Usually
players take their time getting off the field, but not this
afternoon.
Why? DeJuan Bonds was in town. Everybody wanted first dibs with the team hair
stylist, who was waiting in a dormitory lounge with his trusty clippers.
Bonds cuts about 40 of the Chiefs' hair regularly, and many Chiefs won't let
anyone else touch their hair. That's why the Chiefs pay for Bonds to fly to
River Falls, Wisc., to cut the team's hair.
"Once you get spoiled by a barber," Bonds says, "it's tough to
let anyone else cut your hair."
Bonds began cutting fullback Tony Richardson and former running back Bam Morris
in '98. Soon after, Richardson and Bonds were best friends, and Bonds was the
team barber.
Over the years, Bonds has seen more than his share of vanity, and some players
have called on Bonds at the most unlikely times.
One time, running back Larry Johnson was in Las Vegas. Bonds says Johnson will
let his hair grow for weeks before he'd let anyone else touch it. Johnson must
have waited long enough, because he flew Bonds from Kansas City to Las Vegas
to cut his hair, and then flew Bonds back.
"I guess I got the touch," Bonds says.
Greg Wesley, more than anybody else, likes to keep his hair fresh.
"I cut him three times a week," Bonds says. "I'll cut him Tuesday,
Thursday and Sunday right before a game. Greg thinks he's pretty."
Eric Warfield gets his hair cut twice a week at $100 a pop.
"He does it so that no hairs grow out of place," Bonds says.
Bonds says the most difficult thing about cutting Dante Hall is his ever-evolving
facial hair.
"Sometimes he wants a goatee, sometimes he wants a tear drop," Bonds
says. "I have to make sure he wants sideburns or if he's changed his mind."
While Bonds does make many house calls for the Chiefs, they do drop by Napps
Barbershop in Olathe every so often. When they show up, they immediately move
to the front of the line. Then, once they sit down, they inevitably start talking.
"I get the inside," Bonds says. "I know a lot."
Bonds is so inside that he personally fielded one of wide receiver Freddie
Mitchell's first requests as a Chief at training camp. Mitchell walked into
the dorm lounge barbershop on that Thursday and saw Bonds.
"You gonna be my barber?" Mitchell asked. "Midseason, I need a
Mohawk."
***
Brad Potter, 44, massage therapist at The Elms Resort and
Spa
When Brad Potter gives a massage, he lets the patient dictate
everything: Where his areas of emphasis are, how long the massage
lasts, how much talking there is during the session.
Gunther Cunningham wanted to talk. Potter, a Chiefs season ticket holder, was
glad to listen.
His buddies in Section 319 wouldn't ever believe this. Potter arrived at work
in Excelsior Springs that day, right before training camp was to begin, and
who does he see on his schedule but the Chiefs' defensive coordinator?
Cunningham was on the last stop of a 10-day vacation with his wife before training
camp started. This trip was all about relaxation. In that 10 day span, Gunther
had read four books about politics - "he's very, very smart," Potter
says - and this one-night visit to the Elms was about putting the final shine
on Cunningham before six tough months.
"I was excited to talk to him," Potter says. "I was more than
happy not talking football. But he was very open. He started the conversation.
I didn't even have to ask."
As Cunningham lied face down with a towel covering him in Potter's office,
he spoke candidly about how he got the players he was asking for: Patrick Surtain,
a lockdown corner, Sammy Knight, a veteran safety, and Carlos Hall, a rush
end.
Cunningham couldn't get through the 60-minute massage without mentioning rookie
linebacker Derrick Johnson.
"He just gushed about DJ," Potter says. "When he saw him in practices,
he thought he was the best defensive player drafted in the last three years."
Potter started his professional life as a "Joe Corporate," working
for a headhunting outfit. He had always played around with massages with his
girlfriends, and one day, he gave a massage to a friend. "Best I've ever
had," she told him. So, at age 31, Potter embarked on a new career path.
Thirteen years later, he can look at you and notice immediately where you need
massage work just by looking at your posture.
As far as patients go, Cunningham didn't need much work.
"He was fairly loose," Potter says. "People who are passionate
like Gunther tend to be very relaxed naturally. If you keep your emotions bottled
up, you'll be tight."
At the end of their visit, Cunningham said that he might come back after the
preseason was over for one final tune-up.
If the Chiefs defense keeps playing like it did in its opening preseason game
against Minnesota, Cunningham might be a bit tighter for Potter the next time.
***
Tammy Ledet 42, tailor for Hangin' with Mr. Cooper Custom
Clothiers
In a way, Tammy Ledet could be the Chiefs' mommy. She picks
their clothes out for them, lays them out and organizes them
before they go on a trip.
Of course, we're not talking OshKosh B'Gosh overalls here. The custom suits
Ledet designs for the Chiefs run anywhere from $3 to $5 thousand a piece. They're
made from the most elaborate fabrics in the world, and each suit is different
than any other made before it.
Ledet, now that she's one of the Chiefs' tailors, will often make seven suits
for her preferred customers, one for each day of the week. She sends them from
her Shreveport, La., home in a clothing bag.
"When they go on the road, they pick up that bag and they're ready to go," Ledet
says. "And they can wear it anywhere. I'll throw some in there for cooler
climates, warmer climates. They can take that trip and have everything down to
their undergarments, undershirt, cufflinks, socks and underwear. It's personal
service."
Ledet works with Eddie Kennison, Trent Green, Casey Wiegmann, Kawika Mitchell,
Larry Johnson, Kendall Gammon, Dante Hall, Chris Bober and John Welbourn on
a regular basis. Ledet, who met Kennison through Louisiana connections, is
also heavily involved in Kennison's annual charity fashion show. Last year,
Ledet designed suits for 25 Chiefs, most of whom have continued working with
her.
"Usually I target them twice a year," Ledet says. "I'd like to
get them ready for the season, that way they don't have to worry about what to
wear."
Ledet takes pride in the fact that she never misses a measurement, even for
the big and brawny Chiefs players.
"I don't know if you've had a custom suit before, but once you go custom,
it's tough to go back to off the rack," Ledet says. "Clothing off the
rack is made for the masses. Those 32-32s can fit anyone from a size 30-34. When
I measure you, that suit is made for your body type."
Ledet worked as a banker before following her heart into the world of fashion.
She considers the Chiefs some of her best customers. She says the most important
thing is not to be awe-struck by them.
"I think the Chiefs are great," Ledet says, "but I don't carry
on over them. I don't carry myself as a fan, even though I am a fan. As soon
as I start acting like a fan, I'm out the door."
To reach J. Brady McCollough, sports reporter for The Star, call (816) 234-7747
or send e-mail to jmccollough@kcstar.com. |
