Like every other year, March Madness has taken over America. Right now, we are caught in the heat of “The Big Dance, coming off of the first two rounds of play and headed straight into the Sweet Sixteen tonight. By the end of next weekend, the field of sixty-five Division I college basketball teams will be narrowed down to two, and on the following Monday, a new team will replace the Kansas Jayhawks as the NCAA Champions, cutting down the nets in Detroit to the tune of “One Shining Moment.”
From a marketing standpoint, there are so many fascinating things about this annual tournament and the “madness” that comes with it. In my opinion, March Madness is one of the most powerfully unifying sports forces that America has ever seen, behind the Super Bowl of course. People who don’t even care about sports fill out brackets. CBS, a major network, devotes its programming during the first two rounds of the tournament entirely to game coverage; if a games goes long, the local news doesn’t even air! And for goodness sake, “bracketology” is a real word now.
On Wednesday, in class, we discussed the risk Song Airlines took in selling their brand as a spirit. Their commercials did not mention or even show an airplane; Song hoped to portray themselves as an emotion. Our discussion reminded me a series of Air Jordan (a Nike brand) ads that have been airing throughout the NCAA tournament. The first is a scene in which a police officer in Illinois tickets a driver from North Carolina from going 36 in a 35 MPH zone, referencing the 2005 title game in which the Tarheels defeated the Fighting Illini, who came into the game with an unbelievable 37-1 record.
This one shows a family, observably University of Washington fans, unwilling to accept a daughter’s new boyfriend who went to school at UConn. A clip is shown of the 1998 Sweet Sixteen game between the two schools in which Richard Hamilton hit a last second, buzzer beating shot that allowed UConn to advance to the next round.
The next is a father talking about his daughter’s birthday, April 5, 2003, also the night that Carmelo Anthony, who eventually led Syracuse to the national title that year, scored 33 points against Texas in the Final Four. At the time, Texas was the only #1 seed left in the tournament and the favorite to win it all. The Longhorns, led by T.J. Ford, saw their hopes of winning a national championship dashed by the eventual third overall pick of the 2003 NBA Draft.
I absolutely love these commercials. Not only do they show Nike’s knowledge of their customer base and their willingness to connect with them, but they succeed in doing what Song failed to do. These commercials aren’t explicitly advertising Air Jordan shoes. Instead, Nike is selling a certain spirit, an emotion. They are appealing to the customers who have experienced absolute heartbreak during the NCAA tournament. Regardless of how long ago that moment occurred, Nike assures them that it’s okay to still feel that way and almost encourages them to continue harboring those feelings.
What is ironic is that Nike does almost the opposite of Song. The emotions that these advertisements are meant to convey are in no way positive. These moments haunt hardcore basketball fans for years. I remember watching that game when Syracuse beat Texas. Those feelings of disappointment, angst, and even hatred came flooding back as soon as I saw this commercial for the first time. Yet, I thought to myself, “Wow, what a great commercial. What a great concept for Nike to use.”
The only problem with this campaign is the following ad:
From a marketing standpoint, there are so many fascinating things about this annual tournament and the “madness” that comes with it. In my opinion, March Madness is one of the most powerfully unifying sports forces that America has ever seen, behind the Super Bowl of course. People who don’t even care about sports fill out brackets. CBS, a major network, devotes its programming during the first two rounds of the tournament entirely to game coverage; if a games goes long, the local news doesn’t even air! And for goodness sake, “bracketology” is a real word now.
On Wednesday, in class, we discussed the risk Song Airlines took in selling their brand as a spirit. Their commercials did not mention or even show an airplane; Song hoped to portray themselves as an emotion. Our discussion reminded me a series of Air Jordan (a Nike brand) ads that have been airing throughout the NCAA tournament. The first is a scene in which a police officer in Illinois tickets a driver from North Carolina from going 36 in a 35 MPH zone, referencing the 2005 title game in which the Tarheels defeated the Fighting Illini, who came into the game with an unbelievable 37-1 record.
This one shows a family, observably University of Washington fans, unwilling to accept a daughter’s new boyfriend who went to school at UConn. A clip is shown of the 1998 Sweet Sixteen game between the two schools in which Richard Hamilton hit a last second, buzzer beating shot that allowed UConn to advance to the next round.
The next is a father talking about his daughter’s birthday, April 5, 2003, also the night that Carmelo Anthony, who eventually led Syracuse to the national title that year, scored 33 points against Texas in the Final Four. At the time, Texas was the only #1 seed left in the tournament and the favorite to win it all. The Longhorns, led by T.J. Ford, saw their hopes of winning a national championship dashed by the eventual third overall pick of the 2003 NBA Draft.
I absolutely love these commercials. Not only do they show Nike’s knowledge of their customer base and their willingness to connect with them, but they succeed in doing what Song failed to do. These commercials aren’t explicitly advertising Air Jordan shoes. Instead, Nike is selling a certain spirit, an emotion. They are appealing to the customers who have experienced absolute heartbreak during the NCAA tournament. Regardless of how long ago that moment occurred, Nike assures them that it’s okay to still feel that way and almost encourages them to continue harboring those feelings.
What is ironic is that Nike does almost the opposite of Song. The emotions that these advertisements are meant to convey are in no way positive. These moments haunt hardcore basketball fans for years. I remember watching that game when Syracuse beat Texas. Those feelings of disappointment, angst, and even hatred came flooding back as soon as I saw this commercial for the first time. Yet, I thought to myself, “Wow, what a great commercial. What a great concept for Nike to use.”
The only problem with this campaign is the following ad:
Just like the others, right? WRONG! The game being referenced is not one that stands out. In fact, my friend's boyfriend, a Syracuse alum and diehard Orange basketball fan, can't remember this supposed domination by Ray Allen. Maybe this was a game from a Big East Tournament in the mid 90’s, but it definitely cannot be considered as memorable and epic as the games in the other three commercials. The only logical explanation for this “miss” by Air Jordan is the fact that Ray Allen is a member of their brand. Perhaps they felt the need to make him the focal point of one of the commercials.
It’s not that they completely fabricated the game; they didn’t do that. They simply exaggerated the nostalgic effect of a game that occurred almost 15 years ago to make the campaign cohesive. Most people probably wouldn’t even notice, but Syracuse fans definitely would. And a few UConn fans are probably scratching their heads a bit, too.
I think Nike should have really thought about airing this commercial because while most people that see it will think it fits in with the rest, a small percentage of viewers will be turned off. It is airing during the tournament, a time when diehard fans are definitely tuning in.
Now, every time I see an Air Jordan commercial, I won't help but think of the time Nike tried to trick America into believing that Ray Allen's performance against Syracuse was comparable to North Carolina's run to the Championship in 2005. Nice try, Nike.
Now, every time I see an Air Jordan commercial, I won't help but think of the time Nike tried to trick America into believing that Ray Allen's performance against Syracuse was comparable to North Carolina's run to the Championship in 2005. Nice try, Nike.
I like those commercials too!
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