Protect This House

The underdog had to figure out ways to get more bang out of its tiny marketing budget. For Under Armour's first TV ad in 2003, the goal was to create a spot that would live longer than its 30 seconds on the air, says Steve Battista, director of marketing. The commercial showed a football squad huddled around Eric Ogbogu, one of Plank's former teammates and a defensive end for the Dallas Cowboys. He shouted, "We must protect this house!" as if his life depended on it.

The reaction was a marketer's dream -- more than 50,000 calls and emails from athletes, coaches, even execs. Consumers sent in stories and tapes of themselves invoking the rallying cry at games, and even at sales meetings. protect this house! banners appeared at NFL stadiums. ESPN anchor Stuart Scott and David Letterman quoted the phrase. It became shorthand for the brand, like "Just do it."

Protecting Its House

The disrupter's dilemma is not a new challenge for Under Armour. But Plank knows that the battle gets fiercer and the stakes higher the larger he grows, and he's not taking anything for granted. On the whiteboard in his office, in a former Tide factory in Baltimore, one word stands out: attack. "Protect this house doesn't mean sitting back on your haunches," he says. Plank, who played fullback at Maryland, looks like he could still take care of business on third and goal. He wasn't the most talented player, former teammates say, but he was fearless.

He's that way in business, too. The first time Under Armour designed a women's line a few years ago, he pulled the styles at the last minute. Losing $600,000 in potential revenue was painful, he says, but it was the right decision: The quality and fit were poor. The next time, the company relied on more female designers and athletes, and it paid off. In just 12 months, Under Armour was producing the second- and third-best-selling sports bras. More than any other product, says Raphael Peck, vice president of apparel, "the sports bra is how you win credibility with women."

Unfortunately, most women don't know Under Armour, and if they've seen previous ads or borrowed a boyfriend's shirt, they probably assume it's for guys. The macho pitch won't work, not for hot-pink sports bras. Yet Under Armour can't feminize the brand. It has to speak to athletes, period. The TV ad for this year's new women's line shows soccer star Heather Mitts doing her morning workout. She's best known as a member of the Olympic squad that won the gold last summer. Like Ogbogu, she's intense and fit, but not intimidating. Mitts doesn't utter Under Armour's signature catchphrase, but "the message is still about passion and emotion and performance," says Plank. And the ads are unlikely to turn off young males: Last year, Mitts beat out Anna Kournikova and others in ESPN's online vote for "hottest female athlete."

The company needs more than new customers, though. Last year, 90% of its sales at the Sports Authority, the largest sporting-goods chain in the United States, came from just 27 products, says Doug Morton, the chain's CEO. This year, it's up to 50. Peck is building a pipeline of new products and patented technologies (Under Armour now makes more than 300 products). But here, too, the company has had to figure out ways to outmaneuver players with vast R&D resources. So Under Armour teamed up with the Human Performance Lab at East Carolina University in North Carolina, whose research led to the new Metal Series, with lightweight mesh in the underarms and back to provide ventilation. Metal, the company's most technical and expensive line yet ($50 for a short-sleeve top), is selling nearly twice as fast as expected.

As Big or Small as It Needs to Be

As a disrupter grows, it must decide which techniques that worked for the company early on no longer apply, so it can operate like a mature organization. At the same time, it can't lose the competitive advantages of a scrappy startup -- in Under Armour's case, speed, daring, and strategic relationships.

The original Under Armour, where Plank infiltrated locker rooms and once tracked down Oliver Stone to get the unknown brand in the movie Any Given Sunday, is alive and well. Twelve members of the sports marketing department do exactly what Plank did: Hang out in locker rooms, distribute samples, and schmooze with players and equipment managers. "Nothing has changed," he says. "There are just more zeros."

The company can't rely on athletes alone for exposure: It's just too expensive. Nike pays thousands of jocks to wear its gear, including such superstars as Lebron James, who signed for a reported $90 million. Under Armour does what it can, paying a few dozen pros, including the Texas Rangers' Alfonso Soriano and ski phenom Jeremy Bloom. Under Armour also looks for unofficial endorsements. "One of our high-profile guys wears it even though he has a contract with Nike," says Mike McCord, equipment manager for the Dallas Cowboys. And one member of the marketing team works in Los Angeles pursuing product placements full time. In exchange for free gear, Under Armour has appeared in nearly 50 movies, including Million Dollar Baby, and a dozen TV shows, including The Apprentice.