 |
| Let's Just Call Them The Stubs |
Some background... Philadelphia, the team I've rooted for my whole life (can't say it's been a very good ride, though it's had its moments), hasn't been trying very hard to win games for years now. Under the leadership of a new management and ownership group that comes from the world of corporate takeovers and tear downs, they've played the youngest roster in the league, haven't signed any significant free agents, and traded assets in the here and now for the potential of picks in the somewhere else and later. They've also run into some bad luck, drafted some injury risks, and also invested in players in foreign leagues who might come over later.
They've been so blatant about not winning games (and, of course, paying the lowest possible salary that the league will allow) that the rest of the league has complained bitterly about them, because they can't sell tickets to see this team. When the team has shown signs of competence, they've doubled down on the strategy and traded even more players for picks. It's been controversial, and now that the team is finally ready to transition away to try to win games again... well, this.
Typically as a marketing and advertising consultant, I'd applaud a client for a willingness to innovate in an attempt to increase revenue streams. But a pro sports team isn't a traditional business. It's a participant in an artificial monopoly, where competition is limited to a set number of partners, who get to share in mutual revenue regardless of competence. No matter how badly the Sixers have played basketball in the past three years -- and last year's team barely avoided winning the fewest number of games in a regular season in the league's history -- they have gotten to stay in the league. Last night, they even won the draft lottery, and get to pick first in the upcoming next influx of talent. If this strategy comes to full fruition and lays the ground work for a championship team, it really could threaten the nature of how leagues operate.
Which brings us back to the jersey move. Given where the franchise is from a PR standpoint, this is the literal floor for what a jersey sale will bring in... but it will also possibly stigmatize the practice, and may make it even harder for the team to bring in free agents. The money is basically pocket change in something like the NBA, and won't do anything more than cover some missed ticket sales. And while it's easy to imagine that sports fans will just learn to accept the ads, the same way that they have for teams and sports in other countries, it's also possible that this does brand damage, and maybe even cultivate a backlash. (To wit: an NBA tank top isn't exactly the most flattering piece of apparel for non-athletic bodies. And it's hard to imagine the Sixers have sold many commemorative jerseys recently.)
Finally, on the off chance that this just seems like a sports fan wanting things to stay the same... well, sure, there's some of that. But not all change is good, and at some point, the camel's back of revenue from a fan base has to break... especially when it's placed in front of a younger fan base that spends much of its time blocking ads, questioning corporate interests, and wondering if, say, they need to have a full cable package (which subsidizes pro sports teams to a shocking degree), vote for new stadiums in local elections (increasingly unpopular), or go to live games at all (graying audiences, especially in baseball).
Because that's the problem with diluting your brand with sponsorships. Once you break it, it stays broken.
And maybe leads to two logos, or five...
* * * * *
Feel free to comment, as well as like or share this column, connect with me on LinkedIn, or email me at davidlmountain at gmail dot com, or hit the RFP boxes at top right. RFPs are always free, and we hope to hear from you soon.
No comments:
Post a Comment