Here's a little what-if scenario to start your day (and before you say, 'Another post, Jay?' In a couple of days, I'll be on vacation for a couple of weeks, so it all balances out!).
One day you come to work and find that the guy in the office cubicle next to you isn't at work because he's been taken into custody suspected of assaulting a woman. The case winds its way through the system and gets settled. No admission of guilt, but the slate's not exactly wiped clean. You never really knew him, but he seemed pleasant enough. But now how do you now feel about him?
Or how about the guy in that other department who is going through a divorce. Tough times indeed — worthy of sympathy, right? Oh, wait, it turns out this guy is a serial cheater who has had multiple affairs, while his wife is at home with the kids. Do your feelings change?
Probably. If they were co-workers, casual friends, acquaintances — chances are you'd steer clear of them. At the very least your opinion of them would likely be significantly lessened.
Oh, by the way, a recent Harris Research Poll shows that America's favourite athletes are Kobe Bryant and Tiger Woods.
And you wonder why companies continue to drive Brinks' trucks up to an athlete's door to get an endorsement deal.
To be as fair as possible, Kobe Bryant was only accused of the crime. The civil case was settled out of court and the criminal case was closed when the alleged victim refused to testify. Kobe apologized to the accused, admitted an adulterous relationship, then went back to work. A couple of championships later, the world loves him again and those sordid days of 2003 are but a memory.
Tiger? Well, if you're unaware of the maelstrom of controversy that happened over the past year, then you probably need to get out more.
LeBron James? He dropped to sixth on the list from a previous third-place ranking. Kobe moves up three notches, LeBron drops three. Apparently betraying a city and a franchise means more to people than betraying one's spouse (although Brett Favre's fourth-place position on the list, a rise from ninth, may render that point invalid…)
I'm not trying to sit in judgment here of these people. What they do in their personal lives, as long as it's legal and consensual, is none of my business. But it does answer one of those questions I get asked frequently by people outside of the business community — 'Why do companies pay so much for celebrity sponsors?'
When we think of average criminals — especially those involved in the type of activities mentioned above — we, as a community, are ready with the slings and arrows. We're more willing to brand these people as low-life, or cement a negative opinion of them. Athletes, on the other hand, are Teflon-coated. Short of a full-scale (alleged) O.J.-esque meltdown, one's celebrity status remains intact. Instead of branding them, we celebrate their BRAND. Those slings and arrows? Kept in the quiver for a less-lofty target. Your one-name-status superstars get the benefit of our doubt; Joe Average, more often than not, is guilty before proven innocent.
We've been lucky here at AG. We've had a good group of celebrity endorsements, ranging from Asafa Powell to Liu Xiang, to Ronaldinho, and Marta. And, of course, we've got non-athletes like John Tesh and John Gillespie. They've brought next to nothing in the form of controversy, but what do they bring to our brands?
I can tell you what we think, but in the end that really doesn't matter. What matters is what YOU feel these people (and, by extension, our sponsorships like the Nutrilite Canadian Championship and Artistry/Skate Canada) bring to our brands? How have they or do they impact your business? One of the basic tenets behind endorsements is to benefit from the built-in trust and credibility imparted by the celebrity endorser. That's why Tiger's brand was so powerful — he crossed demographics, excelled at his sport, and appeared to be a squeaky clean (albeit sometimes petulant) golfer with international appeal. People trusted Tiger and would view Tiger-endorsed products more favourably.
Remember Be Like Mike? For all the talk that athletes aren't role models (and they really shouldn't be, unless you're restricting your idol worship to their skills on the field of play), a statement like that demanded accountability from the athlete himself. If you're buying products to Be Like Mike, then you better be sure that Mike makes himself worthy of emulation.
On the women's side, while we've had spokeswomen like Jenn Stuczynski and Sanya Richards in the past, it seems that the current crop of female athletes aren't exactly resonating with the general public. As a matter of fact, the sixth-most popular female athlete — Anna Kournikova — has been retired for a while and was known more for her pulchritude than her power strokes. The ninth-most popular female athlete, Billie Jean King, has been retired for almost 30 years; the 10th-place woman, Martina Navratilova has also been retired for years (officially she retired in 2006, but she had been retired for years before that).
So what are your thoughts on celebrity endorsements? Which are your favourites? Do they bring any value to you, your business? If you one who is vehemently opposed to Bryant or Woods' actions, does a company's affiliation with them lessen the company's image in your eyes? Does it matter?
The comments are open. I'd love to hear your thoughts.
"Tyger, tyger, burning bright/In the forests of the night/What immortal hand or eye/Could frame thy fearful symmetry?" Back in 1794, William Blake asked this question of his metaphorical tiger. The rest of the poem continues to delve into the nature of the tiger; what is it that makes the man and who is the one responsible for that creation?
Essentially, who are you?
Turn to 2009 and you're probably sick to death (or morbidly fascinated) by the saga of another Tiger. A private matter has exploded publicly, and the question that hangs above all the allegations, innuendo, and conjecture is, "Who is Tiger, really?"
Do we have the right to know? Normally, I'd say no, but Tiger Woods — of his own volition — is not just a man. He's a brand, to whom several companies have attached their name. He is a brand and an icon that has been set up to deliver a maximum return on his sponsors' investment — and part of that is built upon the façade that Tiger created for the public.
Already vilified in the court of public opinion, Tiger's guilt or innocense will be proven in due time. The damage to his brand? That's instantaneous and long-standing.
A news report today said that Gatorade is dropping its Tiger Focus beverage. The timing's odd and the editor of the publication that reported it (Beverage Digest) said he knew of the decision long before Tiger's run-in with a tree. Maybe so. But if the allegations continue to grow against Tiger, don't be surprised if more and more companies pull out.
Sure, they won't say outright that it's because they're not pleased with Tiger's behaviour. Rather, they'll dredge up the whole "economy" excuse, or play the "we're going a different way in our sponsorships" card. But we know the truth. We're not dumb. If you hitch your wagons to a crazy horse, don't be surprised if it leads you astray. The Tiger brand is careening out of control right now and it could drag down the reputation of other companies in its plummet.
Being in communications, we've had discussions about sponsorships/athletes, etc. off and on. A lot of times it's just fun, water-cooler talk, questioning who would be the best to represent our brand. Tiger's name always came up. Why? Because he's a global icon who, up until a week or so ago, was an ideal spokesman. Now? Who knows. (Personally, my vote's for Yao Ming — global icon, big in China [uhm, no pun intended] which is a good market for us, well-known in North America. But that's just my two cents.)
Charles Barkley, the former NBA star and current TV talking head, has long argued that he is not a role model. In fact, his speech was the focus of a commercial by his sponsor, Nike. In essence, his argument was that thousands of guys in jail can dunk a basketball — should they be role models because of their athletic prowess?
He's absolutely right. And wrong. Yes, kids should look up to doctors, police, firemen — any number of honourable professions that are filled with selfless everyday heroes who serve their communities and country. But the fact is that kids don't have posters of open-heart surgeons on their walls. They have hockey players, basketball stars, and gridiron greats. It's the way it is, and athletes (and celebrities as well) have to be cogniscent of that reality.
It's part of the game. You want the paycheque that comes with adulation, sponsorships, and licensing deals? Then you have to maintain your brand and image. That's your responsibility to your fans and your corporate partners.
So what's a company to do? Kobe Bryant was famously acquitted of rape and kept most of his sponsorships. But has that event stained his pristine reputation? You bet. There are many people who think he's guilty and refuse to support his sponsors. And thousands of number 8 jerseys probably found their way to the trash heap.
Should it matter? That choice is up to you. I've been a fan of Michael Jackson all my life. I like his music. Do I like the man? I didn't know him, nor do I know whether or not the assorted allegations against him were true. Should it matter? If you like a song or a movie, should that change because the singer turns out to be a murderer? Do we appreciate the art or the artist?
Personally, I think it's the former that matters. I love Van Gogh's The Starry Night. Does it matter that the painting's of the view from his sanitorium room? No. If it comes out that Van Gogh ritually beat little puppies would that change my impression? Of the man, maybe; of the art, no.
But if Van Gogh was representing the company I work for, then you're darn right that matters. (Can you imagine that? "Hi, I'm Vince. And I'd give my left ear for an XS Energy Drink right now!")
Advertising's a double-edged sword. You can ride the wave of popularity, but if it ever crests and crashes, your brand will go along with it. All those companies that wanted Tiger before and paid through the nose for it are now wondering if they should have been more carefull for what they wished.
At one point we had a relationship with Asafa Powell. And, after the Olympics, I wrote an Achieve article thanking our athletes for their efforts. Our partnership with Asafa wasn't all about a gold medal (sure that would have been nice), but it was about being your best and striving for greatness. An otherworldly performance by Usain Bolt doesn't change the pride we feel for Asafa being a Double X user. Since then, both parties have moved on, but at the time some criticised us for supporting a fourth-place finisher. And that's the danger of sponsoring athletes. Regardless of why you do it, external perceptions can run counter to what your intentions may have been.
Is there an alternative? I'm not sure. Would Pepsi start doing commercials like, "I'm Ben Agiter, molecular biologist. When I was researching a rare protein on milk peptides, an ice-cold Pepsi always kept me going!" I'm going to say no (unless the point of the commercial was self-referential humour, I guess… Sounds like a viral video). Stars sell — especially to younger kids. Idol worship and the desire to emulate one's heroes will always be there.
In the end, people are people. A superstar is no less susceptible to lapses in judgement than the next person, nor should they necessarily be more scrutinized for them. But when that star decides to trade in on his or her brand identity, exploiting that trust for financial gain, then they lose that right. If you want to reap the financial benefits of a pristine brand then you have to stay pristine.
Your thoughts? Should companies attach their brand or their name to athletes? If so, whom do you feel would be the best to represent Amway/ARTISTRY/NUTRILITE/LEGACY OF CLEAN? If not, why? Feel free to speak up in the comments section below!
I've seen footage of the Beatles Invasion — young women working themselves into hysteria just to get a glimpse of John, Paul, Ringo, or George. I've watched people literally pass out from just a single Elvis hip wiggle. But I thought those days were long gone.
I was wrong.
Friday afternoon, after arriving in Montreal, my wife and I took my seven-year-old daughter to see the new Hannah Montana movie. It wasn't lost upon me that I was taking her to see one of her idols at the home of some of my idols — the venue formerly known as The Forum, now known as the AMC Forum 22. The cool thing was she was almost as excited to be where the Canadiens used to play as she was to see the movie (she can recognize Maurice Richard at 50 paces!)
The theatre was packed with a coterie of six to 16-year-old girls (I noticed I was one of only three guys in the venue — the other two were also fathers bringing their daughters). The movie itself wasn't as bad as I had expected — but the show within the show was far greater.
Hannah, herself, caused the loudest cheers. But it was amazing to see the reaction to the young male lead. The moment he rode up on a horse was followed by 400 simultaneous sighs; each time he said something charming, a chorus of "Awwww"s filled the theatre; and we won't talk about what happened when he appeared shirtless.
Hallowe'en? Her class was filled with similarly dressed little Hannahs. Birthday parties? All Hannah-fests. This isn't about a love for the music, it's about a love of the person. Or perhaps I should say persona.
I don't remember being like that in my youth. I loved my Habs, but not to the point of obsession. Of course, playing road hockey, I was always Ken Dryden, Guy Lafleur (and, for one fleeting week, Steve Penney). As I've aged, I've learned it's often better to keep those we admire at arm's length. Close up, I've found these people to be lacking — not for anything they've done, but rather for the simple fact that they can never live up to the expectations we've placed upon them. Through working at newspapers and covering sports for various publications, I've seen the best and the worst of athletes, and these are often the targets of young people's idol worship. I've seen and heard things in dressing rooms that would shatter a fan's fantasies in a second — but, really, they're often just boys being boys.
A few years back I had the opportunity to meet with my one true idol of youth — the aforementioned Lafleur. And I was pleasantly surprised. He was generous with this time (of course, most of us in our group spoke French, which I think helped), interesting, and entertaining. I came away with more respect for him from that encounter than anything I had seen on the ice (and I think Customer Support's Louise has finally had her heart rate calm down…)
The only other idol I would like to meet is Jean Beliveau, because I believe he's as good of a man as a player. Oh, and Alyssa Milano, but that's another story.
But back to Hannah… Is this type of fanaticism good? My wife and I stress with our daughter that Hannah — and even Miley herself — is a character. We don't know the real person. Good or bad, we're seeing an image, either on screen or in the media. She seems to get it, but I'm not sure she can really get it.
I'm not an idol worshipper myself. People are people. I've had the pleasure to speak with Prime Ministers, musicians, athletes, and a host of other interesting characters (including Rael — which ranks amongst one of my all-time favourite interviews, just for the surrealness of it), and I've always found that they're just regular folk (OK, maybe excluding Rael). They're put on a pedestal not based upon their desires, but rather society's perception.
So now I turn to you. Do you have someone you look up to? Have you had an opportunity to meet him or her? What is it about them that attracts you? What have you learned frm them? Conversely, have you had a bad experience with a former idol? Do you feel this type of idolatry is beneficial as a role modelling behaviour, or is it harmful?
Now I turn to you. Your thoughts, as always, are welcome!