There’s always a place for temporary project-fixers
I’ve run into a few of these people over the course of my career — seasoned produce managers who say, “I’ve never been a specialist, a buyer or a produce director, however, I’ve been frequently called upon as a ‘floating’ manager, tasked to fix a produce department or two.”
I call these few rescue department leaders. They are produce people who have a knack for spending a few weeks to a couple of months in a special assignment — be it a store to cover absent managers or poor-performing stores with low sales, high shrink and bad morale — and in a short time can help stabilize or even turn around an operation. A few rare individuals have this talent.
Military historian and classicist professor Victor Davis Hanson tells a similar tale in his 2013 book, “The Savior Generals.” He invokes military leaders from ancient Greece to modern-day times, describing his examples as individuals who may not have been socially welcomed at cocktail parties but were exactly those with the raw fortitude needed to intervene and straighten out messes, where more-polished heads of state dare not tread.
They’re effective but, due to their often-unorthodox methods, are also short-lived.
Likewise, there is absolutely a place for the temporary savior produce managers. They’re the type who can spend time in a disaster store, get the inventory under control, merchandise in a measured and methodical manner that may not be fancy, but is sensible for the time of year.
Roaming savior managers apply conventional (and sometimes unconventional) wisdom so that sales are brought up to snuff, excess shrink gets under control and the labor schedule is consistent. The crew may not always be happy with every move, but at least they understand what is expected.
And like the savior generals, these folks don’t stick around for long once the store gets a permanent manager in place. They move on to the next assignment.
Related: More insight from Armand Lobato
Sometimes the rescue-savior managers aren’t (or never were) managers themselves. Sometimes they’re long-tenured clerks who never adopted the desire or protocol required of a manager for one reason or another, who are perhaps are a bit uncouth, or their persona is introverted.
However, these savior individuals are very accomplished at what they do, and if you can assemble a small team of these together, they can even be an ideal setup team: a cluster of specialists who are particularly helpful during a whole-store produce reset or grand opening.
And once the store opens, they quietly retreat to their regular stores. Job complete.
I knew a grocery department savior manager once. He was crass, no-nonsense, even obnoxious. But after honing his organizing skills during years on the night shift, he directed his new store set team with precision and efficiency. (He was actually a nice guy, but the innate frown on his face made people a bit fearful of him, even me).
He was not exactly executive timber, so to speak — but man, could he get the job done. Last I heard, he gave up the whole grocery gig, became an electrician and now directs a large team at a major airport.
These store-level savior types seem to reside in every chain. I was lucky to know a few over the years.
Without bending any HR guidelines, they are to running a produce department what a drill sergeant is to the military: They say things like they are — unfettered, sometimes unfiltered — but are fiercely honest and can be effective stepping in to help shape, maintain and temporarily fix a produce operation.
Just don’t expect them to stick around for the grand opening cake-cutting ceremony.
Armand Lobato works for the Idaho Potato Commission. His 40 years of experience in the produce business span a range of foodservice and retail positions.
