Showing posts with label sports business. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sports business. Show all posts

Thursday, July 15, 2010

The Decline of Western Civilizaton

When I first heard of the ESPN special telecast, "The Decision," where LeBron was basically going to get a pr nozzle and make it into the Guinness Book of World Records by administering a mass enema to America, my first thought was, "bad move." My second; "What a fucknut." Oh, and I thought LeBron was lookin' bad too. (cue: rimshot)

Honestly, I can see how tiring it must be for Others to be subjected to the endless and constant stream of bullshit uncle scam spews. Whether spinning about wars in west Asia to just stupid talk about "recovery" I gotta hand it to unc scam; he's a marathoner in it for the long haul. To crowbar in another sports analogy, he's like the Bronx Bull, Lamotta; he can absorb any amount of punishment, but he won't go down.

But something did bring Jake down, and we all know it was the enemy within. (cue: intro, Beethoven's Fifth)

Now, the problems of the dispossessed in America are, in general, not on a scale to match the hell kids in Palestine or Congo or any other region that's been left out of the great "scale up on capitalism or die" race for a two-car garage and a lawn. But it is weird for those of us here in the belly of the beast who know better, sitting on the sidelines and watching this parade. Nero's fiddling has now been displaced by sheer mass, a population marching in lock-step toward the cliff, so engorged on delusion that the biggest threat to us is our own, steady as the sun rising diet of mis-direction. It is weird to watch; and exhausting.

So, here's the hilarious Matt Taibbi doing his thing, this time not about those other douchebags, Goldman Sachs or JPMC, but ESPN and LeBron. "King" James, indeed; King of douchery.

The Five Funniest Things About the "LeBron James: Global Superdouche" Broadcast
by Matt Taibbi
7/11/10
Rolling Stone
http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/matt-taibbi/blogs/TaibbiData_May2010/179533/83512


"The Decision" was simultaneously the most painful and most hilarious television show I've seen in a long time. Its entertainment value rested almost entirely in its scope — the same way a person goes to the Niagara Falls or to the Grand Canyon for that take-your-breath-away moment when the heretofore unimaginable vastness of the vista is first perceived, I watched "The Decision" in breathless awe of the sheer scale of the narcissism involved.
By any measure it was a landmark moment in the history of human self-involvement, eclipsing previous peaks in the narcissism Himalayas (Nero's impromptu fiddle concert as Rome burned, the career of the prophet Mohammed, Kim Jong Il publishing "The Popularity of Kim Jong Il") mainly because it was a collective effort. You can understand the citizens of Tsaritsyn cheering the decision to rename their city; if they didn't like "Stalingrad," they were getting lined up and shot.
But what was our excuse? The weird thing about this LeBron story is that seven or eight years ago, he seemed like a nice kid. All he did was step into a media machinery designed to create, reward, nurture, and worship self-obsessed assholes. He was raw clay when he went in, and now he's everything we ever wanted him to be — a lost, attention-craving narcissistic monster who simultaneously despises and needs the slithering insect-mortals who by the millions are bent over licking his toes (represented in The Decision by the ball-less, drooling sycophant Jim Gray).
I'm sure there's a larger point to make in all of this about how the insane pathology behind the LeBron spectacle (read: a co-dependent need to worship insatiable media-attention hogs gone far off the rails of self-awareness) is what ultimately is going to destroy this country and leave us governed for all time by dingbat megalomaniacs like Sarah Palin. But for now I think it's important to just enjoy "The Decision" on a pure humor value basis, since we're unlikely to see anything that funny for a good long while. To me, the Top Five moments:
1. So here's LeBron James, sitting in a gymnasium full of children from the Boys and Girls Club, the charity that was to receive the proceeds from the event. Let's note the first thing: LeBron had a full hour to say anything he wanted, and might perhaps have used that time to talk about the Boys and Girls club, which was conceived for the express purpose of helping kids who don't have enough parental guidance — kids like LeBron, for instance (whose biological father was an ex-con who was never there). LeBron instead chooses to have a show entirely about himself filled with navel-gazing commentators raving over his highlights, followed by Gray and his idiotic questions about whether or not LeBron bites his nails. Then, when Gray finally gets to a question about whether it might be hard to share the spotlight with Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh, LeBron answers, "It's not about sharing. You know, it's about everybody having they own spotlight." That's his message to the Boys and Girls of America: It's not about sharing! I exploded in laughter when he said this. Even funnier, nobody commented on it. I mean, what's the problem? The kids got the proceeds, didn't they?
2. The day after the show, I woke up and checked the Internet to see if "It's about everybody having they own spotlight" had already made Bartlett's quotations or something — it seemed primed to be turned into a famous line that encapsulates the mood of a country for a whole decade, sort of like "Tune in, turn on, drop out" or "Greed is good." But when I Googled it, I found less than a full page of hits. Why? Because ESPN not only spent the whole evening shamelessly deep-throating LeBron, they fixed his grammar post-factum. In the official transcript, LeBron sounds not like stammering, uneducated buffoon he sounded like on live TV, but just like any other ordinary, more or less literate mass-media dickhead. Some of his malaprop gems will survive ("I want to win into the future"), but otherwise... apparently, fame is now its own spell-checker. Obviously this isn't all LeBron's fault — the guy didn't go to college, after all, and he's not being paid to be a public speaker — but this is part of the story, the fact that sports stars don't need to go to school really at all anymore and can get to the pros by going to sham high schools that exist solely to crank out basketball players. But even that part of the story gets whitewashed.
3. Gray isn't visible during most of the interview — thank God — but about five minutes into their talk LeBron glances down slightly, and suddenly I was conscious of feeling Gray's off-camera eyes locked on LeBron's crotch during LeBron's answers. I burst out laughing. Overall, the whole scene was an uncanny replay of the Hot Tub Time Machine sequence in which the balding white Rob Corddry is forced to suck off black comedian Craig Robinson after losing a football bet. This has to have been the absolute low point in the whole history of the "interview," right? Charlie Gibson's 2008 Bush interview is a candidate, I guess, but this has to be the worst ever — especially when you throw in the fact that Gray was a) paid by LeBron to do the interview, and b) chosen because he has a "special sales relationship" with one of the sponsors, the University of Phoenix.
4. When Gray asks LeBron, "Was it always your plan to play with Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh?" watch as he hedges for a second in between the words "Well," and "I mean," before answering, "Well, I mean, I'm looking forward to it. To say it was always in my plans, I can't say it was always in my plans because I never thought it was possible." In that one little hedging moment he starts, ever so slightly, to smile. And everybody knew what that smile meant: it meant, "What the fuck do you think? Of course, we've been planning this for years." So he smiles, giving the deal away completely, then instantly switches gears and just turbo-lies right into the camera. I thought: this is just like politics! A terrible, totally unskilled liar, telling a completely transparent lie, who then improbably gets let off the hook by the sycophantic moron interviewing him. What is it about this story we love so much?
5. The camerawork was spectacular. The slow zoom-in leading to the EXTREME LeBRON CLOSE-UP during the key question — You've had everybody else biting their nails. So I guess it's time for them to stop chewing. The answer to the question everybody wants to know: LeBron, what's your decision? — if you'd asked a great comic film director to spoof reality-show direction, that's what it would look like. But here's the question: was this a spoof of reality-show TV, was it reality-show TV, or was this a society that can no longer tell the difference? Several times during the ESPN broadcast I got the sense that the network itself had lost track of where "reality" was. Were we really supposed to believe that this thing wasn't decided ages ago, that Wade was seriously considering going to Chicago at one point, that the Knicks were ever in it, that LeBron was trying to convince Bosh to come to Cleveland? Of course not, it was all bullshit, designed to snare viewers, the grownups among us all know that. But the ESPN anchors looked like they were hanging desperately on every tweet, almost like they really believed this stuff. Poor Stuart Scott, he's been podded completely, if you chopped that dude's head off, nothing but little plastic balls containing digitized "Boo-yah" chips would fall out of his skull. It's the prototype for all future news coverage — one or two dominant news networks pushing sensational fairy-tale versions of reality in a race for ad revenue, competing with a few scattered hacks on the Internet covering the much less important parallel "real story," i.e. the truth. In order for the networks to push their version most effectively, they have to genuinely believe that what they're spinning is real. Which is why you see them starting to mistake fake drama for real drama from time to time — they're beginning to drown in their own bullshit.
Watch and see if that doesn't become the template for presidential campaign coverage in 2012. See if those reality-show zoom-ins don't start to creep into interviews with candidates. This is the beginning of our big Lost in Space journey together, where news and reality-show programming fuse completely and we all end up complete morons, voting strippers and X-games athletes into the White House. I'm psyched. Are you?

Friday, April 09, 2010

The Oligarchy of Sports

As I listened to Artie Lange guesting on Bubba the Love Sponge, he was of course entertaining and, as usual, poignant. Toward the end Bubba, a big sports fan, asked fellow sports nut Artie if he'd gone for the Yankees' scheme; pay $20,000 to hold your season seats for the new Yankee stadium. My transcription of that dialog - with edits - is as usual at the end of my rant.

Here's the scenario when I was a kid: I went to at least a half dozen to a dozen Laker games a season. There were so many future Hall of Fame-rs then, and I saw them all; Jerry West, Oscar Robertson, Bill Russell, Wilt, Rick Barry, and my fave, Elgin Baylor... I am this old; I saw the Lakers play first at the Sports Arena. I did that up until about the age of 12. Then they moved to a bigger arena.

Sports then weren't dominated by athletes looking to get paid for endorsing some jerkoff sugar water. I suppose with what little most of them made then I wouldn't begrudge them if they had. But the air was unassuming then, so much so that a kid could hang around after the game and get all of their autographs - save for Russell and Chamberlain who never signed - which I still have on programs socked away somewhere. With the move to the Forum in '67, things changed. Much nicer venue, higher prices - but still in the ghetto. Jack Kent Cook - who'd go on to own the Redskins (a horrible name) - was the money and the man behind the move.

My last great memory associated with the Lakers is '88, when they were going for the first back-to-back championship in 20 years since the Celts. We didn't think we had a chance at tickets, and I didn't want to hassle going to the box office with all of the yahoos and scalpers. But my friend Linda went and got two tickets - one for game 6, one for game 7. That's all they had, singles. She asked me which one I wanted, and I said she should pick since she was the one who went through the trouble; she took game 7.

Game six is my favorite sports experience. The Forum was packed, the game was a classic, and produced one of the most jaw-dropping performances I've ever witnessed by a human being:

One of Piston guard Isiah Thomas' career-defining performances came in Game 6. Despite badly twisting his ankle midway through the period, Thomas scored a still-NBA Finals record 25 third quarter points, as Detroit fell valiantly, 103-102, to the Lakers at the Forum.

-from the Wiki on the '88 Finals

At one point, when the Lakes - both teams really - were whipping the crowd into a frenzy, it got so loud that the young couple beside me who I'd befriended and I tried shouting to each other to no avail.

I think we got those seats for under 30 bucks each. They weren't great seats, but this was the Finals. It was history in the making. And it was a classic matchup.

Sports have provided so many moments seared into my being that to me, life is kind of colorless without them. I mean, I love art in all of its forms, but for my money, nothing matches the intensity and elation of sports at its best. Let alone really good books or docs on sports - HBO's Real Sports being some of the best filmmaking around. Then there's playing sports, because if you play consistently and long enough the odds are that you'll experience "the zone" at least a few times. That's a remarkable thing.

Just last year, Fish got tickets for the playoffs. It was the first round, Denver, and they were good seats through one of her company's clients. I hadn't been to the Staples Center in a few years for a Laker game, although I'd seen the Clippers a few times, but any team that has had Benoit Benjamin start for them, well, that doesn't count.

Sports today, the business of sports, like everything else, is about spamming you relentlessly to cram consumerism down your throat and up your ass. The sheer amount of wattage running all of the spam signs in Staples could power Kobe's ego for a week. And for me, a lifelong Laker fan who's been priced out but who helped build their fucking business, it's bittersweet at best.

I don't like Kobe, I think many have problems with him but are cowed because he's a superstar. But what else explains why Shaq - arguably the most dominant player in the league then - would leave when by my estimation they could have won 2 possibly even 3 more after already three-peating?

The Lakers of today are a name only, or a commodity, a thing that's used - for status, not for enjoying. There's a thrill when you hear a band that you like; but it's so much more when you see them play live. TV and sports are cool, but watching a live game, being in that atmosphere, particularly as a kid, it's indescribable. And I would have loved to share that with Renee, but the Lakers fucked the very fans who made them what they are.

And still, the Lakers of today are nothing like the great 80's or even the struggling 70's teams (with the exception of the '71 championship team which is really an extension of the 60's team), let alone the classic 60's. Today it's all very in your face crass, impersonal, all about money and that just kills what sports used to be about - the real fans enjoying their team. It's Lamar - pay me 14 mil and watch as I fuckin' disappear - Odom. It's Kobe jackin up 20 footers with the team standing around just watching, about as interesting to watch as the jerkoff business people in the corporate boxes sipping fuckin' chardonnay or whatever their lame-o candy asses like. It's depressing.

No, the Lakers, they've broken cardinal rule number one of the streets; don't forget where you came from.

Just like our government and these jerkoff corporations are giving a big "fuck you" to all those from the working class who had grandparents and older generations claw their way over and literally build this fucking country. My grandparents' generation for one are stomping and yelling from their graves, but it's one quality of being a complete fucknut that you can't have a conscience.

No, the Lakers, much like Artie Lange's Yankees, have given a great big resounding finger to us from the working class, the real fans, and opted for the Hollywood jerkoffs who take their blonde bimbo with the fake everything because the Laker game is where you go to be seen. It's sad; the Laker game has become a circle jerk beauty pageant. God forbid you should get distracted by a basketball game.

Oh, as Fish and I drove up to Staples for that playoff game, I saw what for me was the most astounding representation of just how lame sports are today. As we passed a parking lot right off of Fig, I believe, there was a small parking lot almost directly across from the arena. In the lot were nothing but Lexuses, Audis, Benzes, Beemers, Bentleys, limos... a sign read: $40.

Sports are supposed to be fun, not getting you to whip out your wallet to corporations. For god's sakes, it's supposed to be something working class kids can have in their otherwise deprived lives of not being able to shop on Montana Avenue, but these shitheads don't care. It's like the kid who comes to a marble game and wants all the marbles so that no one else can play except whom he deems. The league, owners and corporations have all conspired and now only the kids in Beverly Hills and Brentwood can go, or those with parents who have connections. It's just mean and sad.

What's become of the world?

From Bubba the Love Sponge, 3/20/09 – guest, Artie, at about 1:07:45; transcribed & edited by jp
Note: Artie's a multi-millionaire, and Bubba's not poor by any means. Still, their working class roots keep them grounded. Spice is Bubba's sidekick.

Bubba: Did you cough up the extra money, just the fuckin’ outlandish amount of money they’re making people lay down for a seat deposit for the new Yankee Stadium?

Artie: Unfortunately man, I did.

Bubba: My god. Can I ask at all what that seat deposit was?

A: Well I’m splittin’ it with uh…

B: (Astounded) Man…

A: …with two other guys who I’ve always split it with. My cut now… in the old stadium, I had amazing seats; I had five rows behind third base, and I had ‘em for ten years. And, uh, you know, throughout the World Series and everything, they cost me, I had ta lay out about twenty g’s. But, when the Yankees are good, you know, back then they cracked down on this now you can’t do it anymore because, you know, huh, the Yankess don’t want you scalping tickets, not because of any ethical reasons because they fuckin’

B: Resell ‘em!

A: Exactly. So they wrote me a letter threatening to take my fuckin’ tickets away because… to a legal scalper, no bullshit…

B: A ticket broker.

A: Yeah, a ticket broker. So, uhm, I was laying out twenty grand but back when they didn’t give a shit about that you could make money on the fuckin’ deal because it was like a part-time job, the Yankees were that good. So you’re not allowed to do that anymore, so obviously, I’m not gonna sell tickets to anybody, cuz fuck it.

B: You have the same seats or no?

A: Okay, twenty g’s for five rows behind third. In the new stadium, okay? I’m now ten rows behind third because five rows back are all corporations. You can’t even get near it.

B: Not even close, huh?

A: And, it would have been two hundred grand.

COLLECTIVE: OOOO!

B: AIG needs that bailout money to get those.

A: Yeah. That includes the vig they charged everybody…

B: Jesus…

A: So now, going back another five to seven rows, I’m like around the tenth or twelfth row, I gotta see, behind third, still downstairs, not bad, uh, I laid out… sixty five thousand.

COLLECTIVE: OH!

B: That was only one third.

A: Yeah.

B: That would make me no longer a Yankee fan.

A: And I did it reluctantly. I actually told my friend who I do it with all the time, I said you know what?, cuz I hate A Rod, I just don’t like the guy, uh you know, he’s got no rings with the Yanks yet…

B: Missing in October.

A: Right exactly. I said this on Letterman, I said I got no problem with A Rod doing steroids, but clearly he stops doing ‘em October first.

B: It’s the truth.

LAUGHTER

A: If you’re gonna do ‘em do ‘em all fuckin’ year brother. I mean, Jesus. So uh, I’m an underdog kinda guy too like you guys, the Yanks were the one frontrunner I always liked. But it’s even getting nauseating for me with the A Rod. You know Jeter doesn’t like him, uh, he’s out for a couple of months. I don’t care if Scott Brosius is drunk with a big huge gut somewhere, and I don’t know if he drinks at all, I’m just saying if he is somewhere, just bring him back. I like Brosius better. Bring back Graig Nettles who I know drinks, I love Nettles, he’s the best! Dig up Clete Boyer’s bones, 1960’s guy who fuckin’ died.

B: Just prop him up there.

A: So … I almost said, “You know what? Fuck these motherfuckers”…

Spice: Cuz they’re fuckin’ the fans is what they’re doin’.

A: And I have a venue to say it. I almost wanted to say “Fuck the tickets” and then get on the air …

B: And say it.

A: …and say “Look, this is why I’m not doin’ it.”

B: Yeah. It’s highway fuckin’ robbery.

S: If you’re an average fan no way can you go to the game.

A: My old man climbed roofs for a livin’ man, I don’t think he ever made sixty five thousand dollars in a year, and he’s the one who got me into the Yankees, that’s what the Yankees were born on.

B: But you know, your dad, back in the day, he could still take his boy to the ball game.

A: That’s what I’m saying.

S: None of these corporate assholes are true Yankees fans from back in the day.

A: The story I tell in the book about when [my dad] threw me on the field, the Reggie Jackson game…

B: I remember that!

S: That’s great…

A: Now we sent away for tickets, World Series game, game six, he sent away in the middle of the season, cuz the Yanks had played the Reds in the series, got killed the year before, but, he took a chance, he said, “You know what? I’m gonna send away through the mail for tickets.” We got nosebleed seats cuz they came through the mail, last row of the upper deck behind third base. I remember Graig Nettles looked like a speck – not a spic, a speck – it was the South Bronx. So I can remember, that’s where a guy, right in front of my father, you talk about a different time, the ‘70’s, a guy asked me to hold his beer while he rolled a joint.

LAUGHTER

A: Ten years old I had a contact high cost my old man $80 in hot dogs. I still have those ticket stubs, it’s a shit seat, last row the upper deck, but this is a World Series game. TEN BUCKS A PIECE.

B: Yep!

S: God that’s cool…

B: And a guy could afford to take your boy to the ball game.

A: Oh! You know who you see at the Yankees games now? Guys in suits who get there in the third inning and leave in the seventh…

B: With their fuckin’ Blackberrys...

A: Or some rich kid in a polo shirt with khaki fuckin’ shorts whatever the fuck…

B: Penny loafers…

A: Right. In the ‘70’s and even into the mid 80’s you saw guys who just worked for the city somewhere, you saw a fireman, a cop, a plumber. Or guys like my father, I remember my father taking me to a Yankee game right from work. He had sheet rock on his arm and insulation, and he’d wash up in the fuckin’ sink at Yankee Stadium, and hold me up to take a piss in the sink.

A: But yeah, that’s it man. Can you believe that? Sixty five g’s I’m payin’. And I’m not allowed to sell ‘em anymore. I mean they’re just rape… They’re telling the blue collar fan to fuck off, and the Jets and the Giants both did it too. It’s a fuckin’ shame.

Monday, November 14, 2005

FU!

A while back I was having a conversation with one of my sports fan friends, and we wondered why it is that in pro sports such as basketball, football or baseball:

1) Owners are organized and represented by lawyers;

2) Players are organized and represented by unions and agents (and lawyers);

3) Advertisers (spammers) are organized and have clout and representation through their marketers and ad agencies;

4) Mass media is organized and has representation through leveraging their corporate backing and monopoly on the airwaves (courtesy of the FCC);

BUT,

5) Fans are completely UN-organized and lacking in representation.

"Fans Union" - FU ;) - is a necessity to level the playing field. And if it's true for sports, it's too true for consumers in general. Here's a group I stumbled upon - let me know if you think they're doing something worthwhile.


and for their podcasts:



-jp