Why Blake exists.

I've been in rooms with salesmen my whole career. Told them what closing meant, what coffee was for, which Cadillac they weren't getting unless they hit number. Watched CRMs be built to help them, and watched the help ignored.

The problem was never the reps. The problem was the job we handed them inside the software. Fields to fill, statuses to update, pipelines to clean. None of that is selling.

Blake is what I built when I stopped yelling and started writing code. A workspace you feed leads into and that tells you which ones to open today. The tiers I used to shout about, with the reasoning written down.

The name

It's the one from the film. I was already in the room; it seemed a waste not to put it on the door. Glengarry Glen Ross is a warning, not a handbook. The rants were bad management. The tiers were honest. First prize a Cadillac. Second prize a set of steak knives. That framing is correct. A CRM should tell you which lead is which, and it should say why.

So we kept the name, kept the tiers, and kept the references to one per screen. The point is not to make anyone feel cornered. Your reps shouldn't be cornered. They should be given a pipeline that already argues for them.

Who I am

I'm Blake. I run blakecloses, the company that makes the CRM you're looking at. When a design-partner workspace wants to tell us what's broken, I'm on the other end of the email.

Blake is bundled with Workflow Weekly, the subscription product that sits next to it, and available standalone to teams who ask.

What Blake isn't

It isn't a Salesforce replacement. It isn't a platform you build a five-year customisation roadmap on top of. It isn't a BI tool, a helpdesk, or a marketing-automation suite pretending to be a CRM.

It's a small, opinionated workspace for the specific job of getting new leads read, researched, scored, and filed before your next sales call. If that's the job you have, I'd like to set one up for you.