West Park Rovers 4 - The 12-Month Apocalypse
Running a Business Where Your Entire Catalogue Expires at Once
Why this series?
Most sports clubs still outsource retail. A licensing partner runs the store, ships the orders, and pays a royalty. It works, but it keeps commerce at arm’s length.
This series explores what happens when clubs bring retail and e-commerce in-house, and what that decision really involves once you move past the headline business case.
We’re using West Park Rovers, the fictional club from Kieran Maguire’s The Price of Football, as a reference point. They’re a stand-in for any club trying to modernise how it sells to fans, from merchandise to collectibles.
If you’re new here, it’s worth starting at the beginning:
The Business Case looks at why clubs are making this shift.
Your Club Shop Is a Factory explores the operational reality that follows.
This article builds on those foundations and looks at one of the least discussed challenges of in-house retail: running a business where the entire product range effectively expires every year.
Most retail businesses think in seasons.
Sports clubs think in deadlines.
There is a difference.
For a fashion brand, a product can linger. It might be discounted. It might be pushed to an outlet. It might quietly sell through over time. The tail is long, even if the peak is short.
For a sports club, the tail is brutal.
At a certain point each year, the entire catalogue effectively expires. Not gradually. All at once.
That reality shapes everything, whether the club acknowledges it or not.
A hard reset, every season
A football shirt is not just a product. It’s a timestamp.
It’s tied to:
A specific season
A specific sponsor
A specific manufacturer
A specific squad
A specific competition context
When any of those change, the product loses relevance. Sometimes overnight.
When several change at once, it becomes unsellable.
West Park Rovers learn this early in their planning. The new season launch feels exciting. New kit. New energy. New momentum.
What gets less airtime is what happens just before that launch.
Because when the new kit goes live, last season’s shirt doesn’t just become less desirable. In some cases, it becomes contractually impossible to sell.
Sponsor changes.
Manufacturer changes.
Competition badges change.
The clock doesn’t tick down gently. It hits zero.
Underbuying is visible. Overbuying is expensive.
This is where the pressure builds.
If a club underbuys, fans don’t wait. They go elsewhere. Sports retailers, brand websites, marketplaces. The sale still happens, just not with the club.
If a club overbuys, the consequences land internally. Stock sits. Cash is tied up. Margin evaporates through discounting or liquidation.
There is no comfortable middle ground. Only trade-offs.
West Park Rovers run their first full buying model and realise something uncomfortable. They are trying to predict demand months in advance for products that will be irrelevant in a year, in a context where demand is influenced by variables they don’t control.
Team performance.
Injuries.
Transfers.
Manager changes.
Fan sentiment.
Design reception.
Even timing matters. A strong finish to a season can rescue a slow launch. A poor run can stall demand regardless of how good the product is.
Buying for sports retail isn’t forecasting. It’s risk management.
When performance becomes inventory risk
Few industries have this problem.
If a fashion brand misjudges a trend, it absorbs the loss quietly. If a club misjudges its squad or its season, the consequences show up in the warehouse.
A shirt printed with a player name that leaves suddenly doesn’t just lose appeal. It becomes a liability.
That’s why most well run clubs don’t preprint names at scale. They hold blank stock and customise late. It’s not about flexibility for the fan. It’s about protecting the balance sheet.
West Park Rovers debate this internally. Printing early simplifies operations. Printing late increases complexity.
But the alternative is worse. Overcommit early and you risk holding stock that can never be sold at full value.
In a business where the catalogue expires annually, optionality matters more than efficiency.
Liquidation is not a failure. It’s a system.
This is the part most clubs avoid talking about.
Every season ends with unsold stock. The question isn’t whether liquidation happens. It’s whether it’s planned.
There are established paths:
Discounting through owned channels
Selling through third-party retailers
Moving stock into specialist resellers
Donating through foundations or community programmes
Auctioning signed or rare items
Handled well, liquidation is controlled. Handled poorly, it’s reactive and value destroying.
West Park Rovers initially see liquidation as a worst-case scenario. Something to avoid. Something that signals failure.
That changes once they understand the economics.
A planned exit is not defeat. It’s part of the operating model.
Trying to avoid liquidation entirely usually leads to worse outcomes. Late discounting. Panicked promotions. Stock sitting too long and losing relevance altogether.
In a 12-month catalogue, liquidation is not the exception. It’s the final stage.
When contracts dictate commerce
Retailers rarely have to turn products off completely.
Clubs do.
A manufacturer change can make entire categories unsellable overnight. What was valid yesterday can be contractually blocked today.
West Park Rovers model a hypothetical supplier switch and immediately see the risk. Stock that looks healthy in March could be forbidden by August.
That reality changes how you buy, how you time promotions, and how aggressively you clear stock.
It also changes how you think about partnerships. A kit deal isn’t just about price or design. It dictates the lifecycle of your entire retail operation.
The emotional layer
There’s another complication that spreadsheets don’t capture.
Fans attach emotion to products in a way most retail businesses never experience.
A shirt isn’t just apparel. It’s memory. A season. A moment. A campaign. A story.
That cuts both ways.
It can sustain demand long after logic says it should fade. It can also evaporate demand instantly when sentiment turns.
West Park Rovers see this when a slow start to the season affects early sales. The product hasn’t changed. The mood has.
Buying for sports retail means accepting that demand is emotional, volatile, and only partially rational.
That’s not a flaw. It’s the nature of the relationship.
Why this changes how clubs should think
The biggest mistake clubs make is treating this like normal retail.
It isn’t.
When your entire catalogue expires annually, everything shifts:
Cashflow planning
Stock risk tolerance
Discount strategy
Promotional timing
Supplier negotiations
Operational flexibility
Clubs that succeed don’t try to eliminate risk. They design for it.
They buy late where possible.
They customise as close to sale as they can.
They plan liquidation paths before the season starts.
They accept that not every unit is meant to sell at full price.
Most importantly, they stop expecting certainty.
What West Park Rovers take away
By the end of their first full planning cycle, West Park Rovers stop thinking about the shop as a collection of products.
They start thinking about it as a timeline.
Every item has a beginning, a peak, and an end. The mistake is pretending the end won’t arrive.
In a business where the catalogue resets every year, success doesn’t come from perfect forecasts.
It comes from building an operation that can absorb volatility, respond to change, and exit cleanly when the clock runs out.
That’s the real challenge of in-house retail.
And it’s one most clubs underestimate until they’re already living it.





