I have heard several times in the past year about the “Newspaper strike theory.” The theory goes that if a consumer doesn’t have something for 28 days, he or she will form new habits and will rarely change back. It is the reason, the theory surmises, as to why newspaper strikes rarely if ever lasted more than 28 days. Once those habits are changed, people find other ways to use their time, and good luck trying to change them back in large numbers.
I have thought about that a great deal as we return to normalcy and we see when, and if, fans will return to stadia consistently in large numbers this summer and fall. For big events? Yes. For the kickoff or opening tip of a season? Yes. For the NBA or Stanley Cup Finals? For sure. But for some rainy, damp Tuesday in May, or a freezing cold and icy November Sunday when your team is out of the NFL playoff race? We will see. Also how many is enough? We care yes, but do we care enough to go to eight or nine home games on a Sunday and committing all that time to each day when we have found that we like going for a hike with our kids on one of those Sundays, or now we can gather at home on any number of devices with our friends and have a fun, communal experience. There is no doubt we will miss going to games, being there WHEN it happens, but how much? How much FOMO will arise and at what price point?
All of that is up in the air right now. There are lots of questions being asked, but we won’t know for sure until we see. We have used our 28 day rule 11 times over, and have found some new habits we may enjoy just as much, at least on some days where we were given a choice to do other things.
We may not be going back.
Also along those lines of “going back were two other items of note. One was a column this week by Mike Sielski of the Philadelphia Inquirer, where he openly, and somewhat selfishly, asked what access was going to be like so that media members can tell stories deeper, longer and more robustly. He was nice enough to ask my opinion, and I offered it up. One thing I think is a certainty though. Locker rooms won’t be opened for access at any point soon, or maybe ever again. We have to find a common ground for access yes, we can’t keep doing Zoom and expect the robust storytelling and content that consumers aren’t just accustom to but expect now, and the best, most creative storytellers in media are also the best listeners, and frankly the best at humanizing and expanding the narratives they have in front of them, whether their medium is print, video or audio.
We will see where it goes, and how leagues, teams, and even athlete reps, advocate for adaption of rules, or will they all just keep the video wall up and hope for the best?
As another famous Philadelphian, Ben Franklin, liked to say, moderation in all things, and we hope that comes with media coverage as well.
Lastly, another thought on not going back, some of which was penned by Will Leitch in his weekly newsletter last week. It is really more about acceptance and understanding of change vs traditions in sport, and part of the acceptance is the understanding that “That’s the way it has always been” doesn’t really work today.
Now that’s not to say all traditions should be thrown out the door. The Masters didn’t really work in November…but there was a time when people thought the DH was sacrilege in baseball, when the three point line would ruin basketball, when Overtime or the two point conversion in the NFL would water down the games…or when OT with less players would cheapen the NHL product. Did it? Nope. Does every change work? No. But being accepting and open minded and realizing does it really matter as much as we think it should, especially with a little more global perspective, doesn’t cheapen or dampen the sports consumer experience.
It actually may enhance it, and if it crates more interest from casual fans, that’s good for all involved.
Will’s thoughts…
The pandemic changed us all in ways that will take us years to unravel. They haven’t all been terrible. My sons, who were friendly with each other but also so different that they seemed to occupy different planets entirely before the pandemic, have become best friends now: I have been listening to them play goofball games downstairs together while writing this for an hour now. (“It’s your turn to be the robot maid! Pick that up!” “I Am Sorry I Cannot This Does Not Compute.” “You’re broken!” “Robot Maid Attack!”) My wife’s business, interior design, has exploded during the pandemic; it turns out when people are locked in their homes for a year, they tend to look around and find all sorts of things they’d like to fix.
My thing, my change, I’ve discovered: I now both enjoy my diversions more and care about them less…
But what I’ve noticed, post-pandemic (or whatever you want to call this period), is that even those old chestnut polarizing takes and debates … I don’t have the stomach for them anymore. It’s not that I don’t still believe Pete Rose shouldn’t be in the Hall of Fame. It’s just that I don’t care that much anymore. Maybe he gets in. Maybe he doesn’t. None of it affects my life, or your life, in the slightest. I mean: Aren’t you just happy to be alive? Aren’t you just grateful to have any of this at all?
I keep bumping my head on that ceiling lately. Seven-inning doubleheaders? Yeah, but isn’t it wonderful to have baseball back? NBA play-in tournament? Cool, more basketball! Fights over college athletics and the Name, Likeness and Image laws? I cannot wait to get back to tailgating again. The Golden Globes has been canceled? I’m going to see a Paul Thomas Anderson movie in the theater this year! I am so excited to return to basic, foundational diversions in my life that the details of them, the little obsessive stuff that only the diehards care about … I can’t get worked up about them anymore. Who cares about Pete Rose when we almost lost baseball? Who cares about awards shows when no one can even go to the movies?
I just can’t sweat the small stuff right now. I’m so eager, after the last 14 months, to embrace all that we’ve lost that, in a way, it doesn’t even matter if what I’m embracing is any good or not. I’m going to love that Fast and Furious movie, watching it on as big a screen as possible, munching on popcorn and having my senses assaulted. I do not think that movie will be good; the last few sure haven’t been. But I’m not going to care. I have, for the time being, lost my ability to be discerning.
Personally, I’m glad just to be at a game, and I’m ecstatic that so many friends and colleagues who have struggled, really struggled, this past year with layoffs and furloughs, are slowly getting back to work. The shared experience, the joy of showing up, is what drives the business more than a few rules changes.
Sports after all is an imperfect science, if it was perfect, it would be awfully boring, and boring is what we went through a year ago at this time. Perfect imperfection, as John Legend says…its why we watch and what we enjoy.
