Do you know what the official cookie of the new Cleveland Browns is?
No this isn't a trick question (the answer, by the way, is Oreos), but rather an excuse to discuss a trend that many die-hard fans take to heart and many casual observers point to as one more reason not to watch sports.
Surprise! It's commercialization. You know the trend - I'm talking about the official-this, brought-to-you-by that and the "Corporation Name Here" Championships that seem to be everywhere. The recent trip to K-mart where I laid eyes upon the orange and brown wrapped packages of cookies reminded me of how more and more advertisers are not just putting commercials on TV during time-outs and ads in the scorebooks at the stadium.
Yesterday, they advertised during a team's games. Today, they sponsor the events and make their company's logo synonymous with that of the team.
Take for example the seemingly endless stream of corporations who claim to be the 'Official Sponser of the U.S. National Team' anytime the Olympics or other major international championship roles around. In truth, it does cost a lot to train and equip our athletes, and only so much can come from tax dollars. Admittedly, you can almost understand why Gatorade, or even Nike, would sponsor the team. But when McDonald's - a fast food chain that has never had the physical welfare of its clientele in mind - became an official Olympic sponsor, you had to scratch your head and wonder what greasy fries and incredible displays of physical prowess were doing in the same zip code.
The rise of the 'Official Olympic' whatevers in the 1980s was just a herald of things to come. When teams need some more money, companies are more than willing to foot While still in its formative years, the league needed corporate sponsorships to help compensate for the generally low attendance at games. So what did league officials do? They sewed 'Mastercard,' 'Toyota' and 'Hitachi' logos onto the sleeves and backs of their players. (It should be noted that the logos on the backs of these jerseys are almost as prominent as the player's name.)
On the bright side, all this advertising seems to be starting to cancel itself out. I personally have glanced less and less at those scrolling ads next to the basketball teams' benches, and have let the Mastercard logo blur into the players' uniforms. And the Olympic sponsors at least have the decency to keep their logos off the athletes for the most part.
Perhaps, then, the more disturbing trends are toward those names more omnipresent in our viewing of sports. Nowadays, the names most closely related to pro teams - those of the stadiums they play in - are less and less likely to be the names of a founding owner or local hero. Rather, we have Busch Stadium in St. Louis and America West Arena in Phoenix. When an old building has to be demolished to make room for a more modern, more comfortable park or stadium, money is the first issue raised. When a corporation is 'generous' enough to take the burden out of taxpayers' hands, legendary venues like Boston Garden are magically transformed into soulless shrines to corporate America, a la the FleetCenter.
But, in my mind, the greatest horror of all is the death of traditional names at the hands of advertising- years before the building itself might fall to the wrecking ball. 'Twas a dark day for baseball when The 'Stick (Candlestick Park in San Fransisco), that glorious structure whose endless winds drove every pitcher and outfielder crazy, became 3Com Park. Some commentators still grumble when they have to say the name of a computer company in place of the proper name of a storied old ballpark.
I'll just say this much: if historical landmarks like Yankee Stadium, Fenway Park and Madison Square Garden ever become Micrsoft Park, Marlboro Stadium and the Disney Arena, that will just be too much. I won't just grumble, I'll probably cry.
Copyright © 1999, The Oberlin Review.
Volume 128, Number 3, September 17, 1999
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