Why Can't the US Build Sport Bikes?

‘America still has a strong demand for sport bikes, and a glaring void in its own production. But for some reason, the industry here still doesn’t take them seriously.’ Design guru Glynn Kerr tries to find out why.

- Glynn Kerr

Having Worked in the motorcycle industry for over 30 years, there have been plenty of times when I’ve wanted to bang my head against the wall. Or, more often, someone else’s. Management decisions can sometimes be hard to understand; especially when the logical answer seems abundantly clear and 180 degrees from the chosen direction.

Thirty years imbues one with a generous chunk of gut instinct, but then even we seasoned observers don’t have shareholders to fret over. That consideration, I will assume charitably, can cause seemingly irrational behaviour in the boardroom.

After pouring millions of dollars into the sinkhole that Victory now represents, I suppose the maths on sales projections just didn’t add up. Even so, from the outside, the decision to simply close the company appears to represent the last in a series of bad decisions, and a lack of (pun reluctantly acknowledged) vision on the part of the management; folk who, I understand, have been handsomely rewarded for their contributions. Let the headbanging commence.

Since shortly after the company’s beginnings in the late 1990s, I have been musing in print about the decision-making process at Victory. The initial sights were clearly on taking a slice of Harley-Davidson’s increasingly lucrative pie, although while the newcomer scored over its established rival in terms of performance and handling (which wasn’t exactly challenging at the time), it missed the point that those factors were entirely secondary. In terms of style, balance and attitude, Victory’s first offering, the V92C, was downright clumsy.