Man, let me tell you, getting this new Derby City Classic trophy off the ground was a bigger headache than trying to find parking downtown on game day. I didn’t just read about this thing; I was stuck in the room staring at bad sketches for months. You see the polished result now, but the path there? Pure chaos.
The Old Junk and the Initial Panic
The whole thing started because the old trophy was, frankly, a piece of absolute junk. It looked like something you’d win at a local bowling alley, not the centerpiece for a major city rivalry. The thing was heavy, too—made players look like they were straining their backs just hoisting it up. The committee finally decided last winter they needed a serious upgrade. Something that said “history” and “class,” not “bought it online five years ago.”
My involvement? Well, my buddy, Mike, he runs the fabrication shop that usually handles all the little plaques and signage for the stadium. He’s a good guy, but he’s terrible at design concepts. He got the initial contract because of his connections, but he knew he’d botch the artistic side. So, he dragged me into the initial concept meeting, mostly just to sketch ideas while he drank coffee and nodded vaguely. That’s how I got locked into this nightmare.
The first meetings were ridiculous. Everyone had an opinion. The marketing guys wanted LEDs and maybe Bluetooth capabilities—I swear, they suggested putting a speaker in it. The historians wanted it to look exactly like a 1920s loving cup. We had to wrangle these crazy ideas into something manageable.
Hammering Out the Design Details
We pulled together three core concepts. The biggest problem we faced wasn’t style; it was budget and weight. We had to make it look imposing, like solid silver, without actually bankrupting the league or giving the winning captain permanent scoliosis.
The weight issue was massive. I spent a solid week just researching alloys. We ended up ditching solid brass entirely. We settled on a high-grade aluminum core, which meant we could make it huge—almost three feet tall—but keep the weight under ten pounds. That was the first big win. Lightweight structure, heavy presence.
The plating was the next battle. Everyone wanted true gold leaf. No chance. We compromised on a brilliant, heavy nickel plating for the main body, which gives it that white-gold sheen, and then selectively used a deep, rich bronze plating for the secondary details, the support arms, and the base inscription bands. This contrast—shiny silver and deep brown—really makes it pop.
- We finalized the shape: A deep, wide bowl, less like a standard cup and more like a massive, regal chalice.
- I argued for days to keep the handles clean. The initial drafts had these chunky, over-designed handles. We stripped them back to simple, elegant loops—much cleaner.
- The base: This is where we spent most of our time. We wanted room for fifty years of engraving. It’s a multi-tiered mahogany base, heavy enough to anchor the whole thing.
The Unexpected Snags and Final Reveal
You think designing it is the hard part? Try getting it manufactured. Mike’s shop is great, but they are specialists in flat metal. Getting that massive, perfectly smooth curve on the main bowl? That required finding a specialized metal spinner up in Ohio. I had to drive five hours round trip twice just to approve the initial mold.
Then came the engraving. Oh, the engraving. We used a classic Art Deco font, super specific, super sharp. The guy we hired screwed up the placement on the first run of the bronze bands. He centered the “DERBY CITY” title when it was supposed to be left-justified. It cost us two weeks and another chunk of the budget to fix. I swear, sometimes it feels like nobody can just follow simple instructions.
I remember standing there last Tuesday when it was finally, fully assembled. We had lugged the prototype back to Mike’s shop. The light hit the nickel plating just right. It looked regal. It looked powerful. It looked exactly like the classic trophy we’d talked about but never thought we could actually afford or build.
This whole project, honestly, taught me that the finished product is maybe 10% inspiration and 90% dealing with shipping delays, bad fonts, and arguing over whether the handles should be welded or bolted. It was a massive pain in the neck, but when you see those players next weekend raising that thing over their heads, you know all the late nights and frustrated phone calls were actually worth it. I even got a little stainless steel mini-replica for my troubles. It’s sitting right here on my desk. Looks pretty darn good, if I do say so myself.
