Twelve years later.
When Anchor was nothing more than a dream without a name, I asked my grandmother if we could use her two-car garage for maybe six months before we moved into a “real” space.
We thought it would be temporary.
Just enough room to figure things out. Just enough room to chase something we believed in.
Twelve years later, we finally moved into our new flagship space.
Over the last decade plus, thousands of people stopped by 4420. Tens of thousands more tapped the brakes driving by, trying to figure out what in the world we were doing at all hours of the day and night.
Some days it was chaos. Some days it was quiet. Some days it felt impossible.
But every single day, something was being built there.
We had first-round draft picks walk through those garage doors. Major league players. Agents from some of the biggest firms in the industry. Coaches. News outlets. Families with little leaguers picking up their first bat. Loyal customers who became friends. People who believed in us long before there was much reason to.
And through all of it, 4420 became more than an address.
It became home.
For years, we dreamed about what a permanent Anchor space could look like one day. We wanted something practical because that’s who we are. But we also wanted a space that represented the brand the right way. A space that felt intentional. A space that carried the same standards, detail, and design language Anchor has always tried to stand for.
We didn’t want to build just a bigger space. We wanted to build an experience.
We wanted to build a place that felt like Anchor.
After years of dreaming, planning, designing, and waiting, that space finally exists. The house is built, but truthfully, we’re still turning it into our home.
Every week, something changes. Every week, another detail gets added. Another corner gets refined. Another piece of the vision comes to life.
And that part honestly feels fitting.
Because Anchor was never built overnight.
Moving out of 4420 was bittersweet in a way that’s hard to explain. In 2022, my grandmother, Martha Pittman, passed away. She never got to see the flagship store finished, and that was a hard part.
She opened her home to us before there was any proof this would work. Before there were professional players. Before there were collaborations, events, or people showing up. She gave us space when all we had was belief.
We knew when we moved that we couldn’t leave our roots behind.
Forty-eight weeks ago, on a hot summer day, we took down the original garage doors from 4420 and brought them to the new flagship space. Today, they hang above our lathe.
They are more than old garage doors.
They are a reminder.
A reminder of where we started.
A reminder of long nights and uncertain seasons.
A reminder that some of the best things in life are built slowly.
A reminder that growth means very little if you forget where you came from.
Those doors matter deeply to us.
4420 will always represent our roots.
As much as this new flagship space represents growth, design, vision, and where we’re headed, we never want to lose the feeling of those early years. The simplicity. The hunger. The gratitude. The people.
Anchor has never just been about baseball bats or apparel. It has always been about building something meaningful alongside people who care.
Over the years, we’ve watched complete strangers become lifelong friends. We’ve watched young kids become high school and college players, and we’ve watched some of those same players become pros. We’ve watched customers become part of our story. And in a lot of ways, they helped build this place too.
This new space belongs to all of us.
There is still sawdust on the floor most days. There are still projects unfinished. There are still things we’re dreaming about for the future. But when we walk through these doors now, we’re reminded how faithful God has been through every season of this journey.
Twelve years ago, it started in a garage.
Today, we get to welcome people into a flagship space we once only talked about as a distant dream.
And somehow, it still feels like we’re just getting started.
This summer, we’d love for you to stop by for a visit.
Stay Anchored.
- Matthew