Thursday, September 17, 2009
Kiss My Blackout Ass
A lot of people are getting crazypants about the fact that, if the Cowboys do not (or did not) sell a couple hundred more seats for Sunday night’s game, there could be the first Cowboys blackout since 1990. They are, in fact, retarded to do so. First off, I’m pretty sure any given office or combination of offices in the metroplex would have a whip round to ensure that those seats get bought if for no other reason than facing the terrifying possiblity of having to talk to their families on Sunday night instead of watching the game. Also, could it not be a brilliant streak of marketing from Team Jones to make sure that every seat is filled and he gets his attendance record for the home opener at the new stadium? Granted, this is the same guy who bought a metaphorical bridge and/or swampland in Florida (I’m feeling incredibly pro-choice today) in the form of a video board that no other team would buy for fear that it could actually be hit with a punted football. But in an economic climate as not-awesome as the one we are in now, how better to sell the last few stupid expensive seats by telling the Cowboy fan that they might have to miss the game or, even worse, listen to 105.3 The Fan?
The part that amuses me about the whole thing is that this marketing scheme would be a secondary one for me. You want to really make sure those seats sell out every game? Why not capitalize on the time-honored tradition of rich people big timing the poor little people? You see, most people (well, Deadspin) assume that those seats aren’t selling because people are going to buy the $29 Party Passes then do the old Confuse-The-Usher sneak into the empty seats. In fact, it’s not the first time that Deadspin has become kind of like the guy who prints his own newspaper about a CIA gunman in the bushes on the Grassy Knoll and sells them in Dealy Plaza with this conspiracy theory of theirs. For the sake of argument, let’s say it’s true.
Well there’s your answer of how to get people with some coin to plunk down for $200 seats. You can finally feel the warm flush of imperialism as you rightly claim your Section 201, Row F, Seats 3 and 4 thrones from the impoverished, malnourished and unwashed shivering, bundled masses. With the help of an usher, of course. Seriously, in a city where people lease German luxury automobiles that cost more than twice what they make in a year, how better to flaunt your supposed wealth than evicting poor people? Even if it’s only from a stadium seat and it’s only for one day, imagine the power you could feel from watching a father and daughter from Garland go pale as they are asked to show their tickets. Hell, you could really impress a date by buying an extra seat for her purse just to show her that you are a better human than the pitiable creatures who would have otherwise enjoyed the game from that spot.
Let’s even take it a step further. Like how some people enjoy period-costumed murder mystery steamboat trips or how others enjoy paying people to make them wear rubber underwear and be belittled and spanked, let’s go all out with this. Have the Party Pass (or Plebeians Pass, as it will know be known) people dress up as Ellis Island immigrants replete with tattered suitcases and water-damaged birth documents. Or maybe the week that they play the Redskins, have the plebs dress as Native Americans and rename the aisles leading back to the plazas the “Trail of Beers” or something. Income-based water fountains? Or make anyone who has scraped together enough money to purchase something from the Fan Shop carry their purchase out not in a shopping bag but in a hobo bundle tied to the end of a broken broomstick? The possibilities really are endless.
I know this sounds insensitive and snarky but if there is one thing that I have learned in my years of living in Dallas (other than the fact that everyone with money will tell you that they are either in “real estate” or “marketing” despite how shadowy both of those terms are) is that people really like to feel richer/thinner/hotter/more powerful than everyone else in their vicinity, since that is what determines your Win/Loss record in life. So why not, pulling out my own vague knowledge from a few years in marketing here, monetize this and capitalize on the growth trend? Why not win-win on the visibility front with a little bit of brandstorming in the form of opportunistic Dollarization of the downtrending human spirit?*
* I hope your soul died a little like mine did after reading that list. Also, as a side note, I am clearly too immature to ever really dive head-first into marketing and I base this solely on my initial response to the phrases “Employee Surfboarding”, “Long-tail”, “Waste Identification” and “Re-skilling” which I mis-read as “Re-skulling.”
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1 comment:
My condolences on tonight.
Oh, that Party Pass? The soppin' crust, used to chase down and mop up that last little bit of gravy.
Goodnight, Amanda
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