http://www.sacbee.com/content/sports/story/13747013p-14588781c.html
All this angst about the new NBA dress code? Put a tube sock in it, already.
The league's perfectly reasonable attempt to clean up its act, to project a more professional image to its increasingly demanding (and overtaxed) public, is only the latest maneuver in an ongoing campaign to reignite the passion between players and fans.
Call it the anti-slob movement. Call it a bit excessive, even. (That ban on jewelry indeed could use a little polish.)
But the outrage Commissioner David Stern's new policy is generating - everything from allegations of racism to infringement on personal freedom - is an outdated response to a decade-old problem. The source of all this is really pretty simple: The fans in the stands want more. They want retro. They want again to relate to the players wearing the jerseys as well as the young men seated on the bench in suits. They want to know that, in some respects anyway, the rules of the work force apply to everyone.
What's the big deal with leaving the casual clothes at home, anyway? Who else gets to wear shorts while at work?
No, the real issue here is whether the league and its players can just get along, and together rekindle the love affair that began in the 1980s and was sustained into the early 1990s. Basically this comes down to dollars and common sense, to whether the players can successfully be reintroduced and marketed to a predominantly white, middle-class arena patronage that relates more to classical music than hip hop.
"Within the sphere of professional sports," said Paul Swangard of Warsaw Sports Marketing at the University of Oregon, "this tells us that we've got to work a little harder to convince players that they are a part of the business. These types of policies reinforce the need to think about the role they play, not just play the role of independent contractor. The (NBA) brand is bigger than any player in the league. The players can't be out there doing all this individual stuff at the risk of undermining the revenue streams."
This is about selling your product and catering to your audience. About knowing what sells. And with image problems continuing to plague the league - and this began long before the brawl in the Palace - Stern, apparently with the tacit approval of union chief executive Billy Hunter, has decided to flex his muscles instead of throwing in the towel. Finally, he hears the grumbling from season ticket holders, who for years have complained the NBA is out of touch with its constituents, that it has become a league of excess, not excellence.
Ticket prices are too high. Likewise for player salaries. And in its haste to be cutting edge with its thundering, incessant fan prompts, the NBA has deafened a significant percentage of its audience. It's not necessarily the choice of music that offends; it's the decibel level. It all has become too much.
The looks. The sounds. The product.
The dress code is merely the latest attempt to reacquaint the players to an aging public - in essence, to restore intimacy to the arena, once the NBA's greatest advantage over Major League Baseball or the NFL and NHL. In arenas throughout the league, fans could reach out and touch the superstars, everyone from Mikan to Jordan.
But as players have become younger and increasingly detached, distance has developed between product and purchaser. Media access and availability diminished, depriving fans of both sound bites and stories. Additionally, the use of headphones discourages even the briefest interaction between players and fans, furthering the sense that the NBA's stars follow a very different set of societal rules.
"All these players who want to be marketable, who think they are so marketable, need to understand that corporate America is what drives the NBA," said Bay Area-based agent Aaron Goodwin. "You put a suit on for a couple of hours. The professionalism is something we've stressed with all of our guys. So ... I don't think it's racist or insensitive at all." The underlying beauty of these new rules, by the way, is that they don't discriminate between owners and players. A slob is a slob. Mark Cuban has more in common with Dirk Nowitzki than he knew. Yet to be determined is whether the owners and players can rediscover some commonality with the fans.
All this angst about the new NBA dress code? Put a tube sock in it, already.
The league's perfectly reasonable attempt to clean up its act, to project a more professional image to its increasingly demanding (and overtaxed) public, is only the latest maneuver in an ongoing campaign to reignite the passion between players and fans.
Call it the anti-slob movement. Call it a bit excessive, even. (That ban on jewelry indeed could use a little polish.)
But the outrage Commissioner David Stern's new policy is generating - everything from allegations of racism to infringement on personal freedom - is an outdated response to a decade-old problem. The source of all this is really pretty simple: The fans in the stands want more. They want retro. They want again to relate to the players wearing the jerseys as well as the young men seated on the bench in suits. They want to know that, in some respects anyway, the rules of the work force apply to everyone.
What's the big deal with leaving the casual clothes at home, anyway? Who else gets to wear shorts while at work?
No, the real issue here is whether the league and its players can just get along, and together rekindle the love affair that began in the 1980s and was sustained into the early 1990s. Basically this comes down to dollars and common sense, to whether the players can successfully be reintroduced and marketed to a predominantly white, middle-class arena patronage that relates more to classical music than hip hop.
"Within the sphere of professional sports," said Paul Swangard of Warsaw Sports Marketing at the University of Oregon, "this tells us that we've got to work a little harder to convince players that they are a part of the business. These types of policies reinforce the need to think about the role they play, not just play the role of independent contractor. The (NBA) brand is bigger than any player in the league. The players can't be out there doing all this individual stuff at the risk of undermining the revenue streams."
This is about selling your product and catering to your audience. About knowing what sells. And with image problems continuing to plague the league - and this began long before the brawl in the Palace - Stern, apparently with the tacit approval of union chief executive Billy Hunter, has decided to flex his muscles instead of throwing in the towel. Finally, he hears the grumbling from season ticket holders, who for years have complained the NBA is out of touch with its constituents, that it has become a league of excess, not excellence.
Ticket prices are too high. Likewise for player salaries. And in its haste to be cutting edge with its thundering, incessant fan prompts, the NBA has deafened a significant percentage of its audience. It's not necessarily the choice of music that offends; it's the decibel level. It all has become too much.
The looks. The sounds. The product.
The dress code is merely the latest attempt to reacquaint the players to an aging public - in essence, to restore intimacy to the arena, once the NBA's greatest advantage over Major League Baseball or the NFL and NHL. In arenas throughout the league, fans could reach out and touch the superstars, everyone from Mikan to Jordan.
But as players have become younger and increasingly detached, distance has developed between product and purchaser. Media access and availability diminished, depriving fans of both sound bites and stories. Additionally, the use of headphones discourages even the briefest interaction between players and fans, furthering the sense that the NBA's stars follow a very different set of societal rules.
"All these players who want to be marketable, who think they are so marketable, need to understand that corporate America is what drives the NBA," said Bay Area-based agent Aaron Goodwin. "You put a suit on for a couple of hours. The professionalism is something we've stressed with all of our guys. So ... I don't think it's racist or insensitive at all." The underlying beauty of these new rules, by the way, is that they don't discriminate between owners and players. A slob is a slob. Mark Cuban has more in common with Dirk Nowitzki than he knew. Yet to be determined is whether the owners and players can rediscover some commonality with the fans.
OMG what is this world coming to. Agreeing with slim and Av in the same week!
