The Jazz have handled this Kirilenko guy with the utmost maturity. They've yelled at him, told him he’s lazy, and said he has no idea what he is talking about. When he whined about what he "needs to be successful," they explained that rational deliberation is for wusses. What more more can they do?
What part of "it’s not going to happen," doesn't this Ruskie get? What do the Jazz need to do to communicate to this guy that they mean business? Our way or the highway, you know. Accommodation is not an option.You’re either with or against us.Do as we say, no questions asked. If not for that bastard, Billy Hunter, they could try dunking his head under water for a few minutes and acting like they weren't going to bring it up until he screams, "I can't hold Matt Harpring's jockstrap!"
We all know about Kirilenko's weak knees and friendship with John Amaechi, but given the Jazz brass's history making basketball stars feel incredibly appreciated--Dantley, Malone, Boozer, and Williams NEVER had any problems--there has to be more to this conflict. Why else would they not waiver in any way? The rumors could be true ... Andrei Kirilenko could be a bioterrorist sleeper agent. He might hate Freedom and the American way.
"I vill crush manifest destiny," he was once heard to say.I’m told he drives a Prius! He is Russian, don't forget.And, we all know what a lazy, gutless lot they are. . .Russian? Puh shah. Didn’t they just lay down and die in WWII? Help us! Help us! They screamed while our brave boys went in and saved the world for democracy. Maybe the esteemed Mr. Miller should remind Andrei, that if not America he could be speaking German right now!
The second head growing out of Miller's elbow known as Dr. Kennis (originally Merkwürdigliebe, but changed out of patriotism--damn right) has graciously constructed diagrams that prove Andrei drinks vodka, and not water, at half time. A flowchart by Dr. Kennis also shows Mr. Kirilenko is trying to buy water rights across the Mountain West and blame it on Salt Lake City -- which begs the question: if Kirilenko spent just a little less time trying to ruin America, couldn't he be a better basketball player?
Miller knows for a fact Kirilenko is against the missile defense shield. Like an idiot he says it will start something he calls an "arms race." If only the Ruskies would ever learn, but they won't. Kelly Tripuka and Kent Benson might need to be brought in for a seminar. Anything would be better then an insubordinate young Russian who dares to endanger the proprietary interests of the Utah Jazz ... and if the rumors are true, the coco cola company.
I can’t hear you, let’s get loud in here! A figure on a giant screen demands this from you. The screen hovers in the center of a massive gathering. Happy and forceful compliance is replied by tens of thousands of people dressed in uniformity.
It sounds like the start of a book by George Orwell or Aldous Huxley, but it is in fact the current trend sweeping the NBA playoffs.
Last spring, when the Miami Heat made their surprising championship run, one simple-yet-clever marketing campaign transformed a sleepy uninvolved crowd into an intimidating and unified monster. The Heat’s marketing folks provided the entire lower bowl of their arena with all white T-shirts. Rather than seeing high-priced lawyers, trophy wives, and corporate executives, Heat opponents saw thousands of angry jurors staring back at them.
These days, in Salt Lake’s own Newspeak Arena — excuse me, “Energy Solutions” — thousands of faces blend into one. A sea of powder blue T-shirts take on the quality of a school of fish. Let’s go Jazz! The mass of blue shouts.
Last week, the Utah Jazz marketing team followed Miami’s lead and passed out baby blue shirts to their entire lower bowl. With the Jazz on board, the Leni Riefenstahl era of the NBA officially began—American professional sports teams are delving into a new phase with deep sociological meaning. For some reason, sports marketers are now taking cues from famous military propagandists and public manipulators.
Historically, militaristic regimes have used massive coordinated demonstrations to inspire awe in friends and intimidation in foes. (In the early 1930s, Hitler and Mussolini’s public relations men took advantage of this sociological phenomenon on their way to conquering Europe.) However, let’s not get carried away. The sea of Jazz blue is just a harmless visual metaphor, right? Massive coordinated demonstrations of collective identity do not have to be violent or sinister—they can be utilized in pastel and even sponsored by a large corporation (what could be more benign?). The Jazz are again back on top and that’s what’s most important, isn’t it?
Perhaps, but while the Jazz may not have faced a superior basketball team in their Western Conference semifinal against the Golden State Warriors, their Bay Area opponent offered a better way to encourage fan enthusiasm.
After enduring a dozen losing seasons, the public relations folks at the Warriors adopted the slogan, “We Believe.” They inscribed the phrase on thousands of yellow T-shirts that were given out to their entire arena at the beginning of the playoffs.
The Golden State slogan was dreamt up by super-fan, Paul Wong, who started selling homemade placards outside the arena earlier this spring. As the popularity of Wong’s idea caught on, the Warrior’s management snapped it up. The response was a marketers dream. Yellow “We Believe” shirts with a giant Comcast cable logo on the backside (the side the TV camera sees) became the hottest thing in town. Columnists and commentators around the Bay Area began writing about how the Warriors had united the town in a way they’d never seen before.
Meanwhile the Jazz’s current slogan “It’s Electrifying!” does not inspire ticket sales, but unintentional comedy. As is the case for Utah and most national trends, we’re still a little behind the curve. The massive T-shirt campaign isn’t our own, we are just borrowing it.
The Jazz have some of the best fans in the NBA and may have a legitimate shot at the NBA title, but as an organization they have a long way to go as far as utilizing the impressive fan culture that already exists.
There is a ground swell of intelligent, funny, and insightful Jazz fanatics and their energies are just waiting to be tapped. The Jazz should hone this creativity rather than resist, or ignore it. Here are a few simple and easily adopted suggestions:
Rather than give fans uniforms so they can fit into an impressive television display, set up more public viewing areas so those who can’t afford the high ticket prices can watch together. Inside the arena, encourage a culture of authenticity. Bring back a live band, like the one they used to have in the old Salt Palace.
Try turning off the canned noise, video advertisements, and constant clamber from the Jumbotron. The loudest and most intimidating noise comes from a knowledgeable and fanatical crowd naturally responding to the game. The giant screen only functions like an insulting Sesame Street for adults. (Check out this clip of Greek basketball fans -- this is what happens when you combine the real fan culture of soccer and put it in a basketball arena; thank 39&1/2 feet for sending this).
When the Jazz marketers distributed their free blue tees to only the lower half of the arena (the portion visible to TV cameras), they illustrated that cutting costs is more important to them than disrespecting their loyal fans. I realize many of my suggestions might seem cost inefficient, so I have one last one: learn a key lesson from the recent Golden State experience—allow real fan culture to grow into something unique, then repackage and sell it back to the community.
Golden State’s “We Believe” campaign became infectious because it felt real. The organization looked to the community for direction, rather than constructing directives and imposing them on their audience. Instead of copying some other teams idea of what real fans look like, the Jazz simply need to give their true fans the space and opportunity to create their own reasons to believe.
Two of the biggest reasons I remain a Jazz addict have little to do with their performance on the court. First, the organization may now have nearly a billion dollars in assets, but there are still many provincial small town remnants to its operation that provide me with endless ironic joy.
The second reason? Despite being so very predictable, there are still a great many mysteries surrounding the organization – for instance, the size of Larry Miller’s left elbow (also see: Sloan’s Deep Dark Secret, post #1).
In this vein, I bring you a play-by-play of Adrian Dantley’s “Jersey Retirement Ceremony"...
In middle of the second quarter we are given an interview with Larry Miller where he says, “yeah, I was a little more hesitant than I should have been to get this done.” This qualifies as the largest understatement by a celebrity since Robert Mcnamara stated in The Fog of War documentary that, “using Agent Orange was maybe a bad idea.” A little hesitant, Larry? Try unbelievably so…can’t imagine why Sloan gets away with being “hesitant” to play Brewer.
Standing at half court, Hot Rod commands the attention of the crowd to introduce honorary guests, except the list he has been given does not match the order of the line. The mix up starts when John Stockton is announced as “Ron Bonne,” and then half of “AD’s ex-teammates” are introduced as if they were role playing at a swingers party, forcing them to stutter step backwards not knowing quite how to react. They then shake their heads while slapping hands with Dantley on the most important night of his life.
Then, for about five minutes AD’shigh school coach lays on the praise. With five or six cameras in his face, it becomes quite apparent AD has a strange lip-piercing twitch which is almost painful to look at for too long. Clearly, it is the sign of a very anxious individual, and may be even OCD. An incredibly socially awkward habit that explains a lot.When you look at Dantley, all of a sudden you get the feeling that, to him, this is a job interview and the boss has 40,000 eyes.
As the next five speakers are handed the microphone, it becomes clear only Frank Layden and the high school coach actually came with a plan for what they were going to say and rehearsed it ahead of time. Sam Battistone, Larry Miller, and John Stockton figure they can just wing it.Stockton practically says “thanks AD” and pitches the microphone to Miller while running for cover back into the tunnel, where he peaks out from behind the rafters to observe the rest of the ceremony safely. Ok, that’s not true, but his speech lasted about ten seconds and none of it was memorable—a vintage Stockton public appearance.
Finally, AD is introduced by Hots as the “only Jazz player to average 29 points a game over his seven seasons with the Jazz—still a record.” Uh, yeah, I bet it is a record. Holy H-E-double-hockey-sticks! Boozer averages 20 or so now, and it seem like he scores 25 every game to offset the occasional off night…Dantley’s record will stand until Premier Stern institutes the upcoming rule where players can only play perimeter defense while standing on their heads.
Wearing a pin-striped suit that looks like it costs as much as the entire Mr. Mac organization, AD takes the microphone.[i] He puts up his hand up as if he is about to speak but is over-whelmed by applause. Dantley then does that weird lip-piercing thing, but now it’s a little clearer why he was doing it in the first place.
AD is on the verge of tears. He can barely hold it back. This wasn’t going to happen, he didn’t believe the day would ever come. Twenty one years. There was no reason to believe it would come, but here he is actually living the moment. Nightmares, dreams they all messed together in his mind around this one moment. He simply does not and cannot believe this is real.
After about three botched attempts to speak, he gathers himself and says, “good things happen to those who wait.” One of the most poignant and touching moments in sports I’ve seen in a long time. However, it was not my favorite of the night.
After Dantley graciously says a paragraph or two about all the other names hanging in the rafters[ii], we are not given a quasi-motivational speech about how to live your life through the lenses of an athlete (as we were with Malone’s JRC). Instead, AD gives us this, “Today, at our luncheon, I told Larry that with Phil Johnson and Sloan starting to get older…I expect a phone call. He better bring me in for the interview of the job with the Utah Jazz.”
While scratching his chin, Larry smiles with a face that says, “Don’t push your luck.” However, the second head growing out of his left elbow made a different expression which leads me to believe AD’s request is no longer far fetched.
[i] For a bonus…who remembers what the Mailman wore to his “jersey retirement ceremony"?
[ii] Including Hornacek and Maravich, whom he never played with, as well as Malone who was the main reason he was told to pack his bags in the first place (who was also conspicuously absent from the arena).
Brewer may know how to play, but what about Sloan's post-practice ritual? (All basketball images, uhm, borrowed from Getty Images...all others borrowed from unknown sources.)
The answer may be more disturbing than you ever imagined
