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.
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