Thought for the day: The Super Bowl is a marketer's Super Bowl.
No, for the record, the Thought is not an
Ice Cream Koan. Super Bowl Sunday is a big day for the Marketing world. You know all those people who say, "I only watch it for the commercials"? You realise how much your average adman would KILL to have people that devoted any other day of the year? This day can make or break a brand for the year; and a year is an awful long time in business.
This year was actually fairly mediocre, and our sports colleagues handily out did us with what will go down in history as the Tush Down. Some highlights:
Hasbro opened with the trailer for Battleship in the first quarter. They came in hard and heavy with Aliens, Explosions, Action Closeups and Liam Neeson, and it played well to the crowd. But, Battleship? Really? BATTLESHIP?
Coyote: You gotta be shitting me.
Great Spirit: Great Spirit is not a shitter.
- Coyote Blue, by Christopher Moore(highly recommended)
But who am I to judge. Oh, that's right, I'm an educated movie-goer, that's who I am. But Hasbro brought it back around with the new G.I. Joe trailer, announcing the involvement of Duane Johnson and Bruce Willis, with a shot of Cobra Commander finally in his proper uniform; a well played rope-a-dope, in hindsight. Finally, George Lucas once more brings forth feelings of dire conflict among his fanbase by releasing Star Wars once more to theatres, this time in 3D. Will we yowl, screech and curse his name? Yes. Will we divide into factions, waging bloody feud over the validty of this version of the films? Of course. Will we still line up, in costume, to see them? DAMN STRAIGHT.
The Cola Wars hashed out their ancient blood-feud, with Coca~Cola leading in with periodic flips to a pair of polar bears watching the game; surprising pathos, there, actually. Pepsi provided a star-studded rejoinder set in the cola-fueled decadence of The Court of King Elton John I, only to morph it into a magnificent revolutionary tale of the tyrant's overthrow. R-E-S-P-E-C-T indeed.
The Detroitlanders set their arms against the Foreign Car Hanse, and both armies left the field of battle bloodied but standing. From the shores of Lake Eerie, Chevy voiced it's own dire predictions for the coming 2012 end of the Age, and took the opportunity to nip Ford's helm on the way back from the tilt. VW, in response, launched a mighty pincer manoeuvre, opening with an adipose-addled dog deciding to get in shape, only the swerve to a Galaxy Far Far Away where a well-known Sith Lord reminded everybody just Who Your Daddy Is. Toyota launched a rather unimpressive display for its Camry brand, barely flying its pennants in a half-hearted foray into the field. The strongest blows were struck by a merciless and valiant charge on behalf of Chrysler. Finding last year's use of Eminem to be effective in launching their "Imported From Detroit" campaign, but not as much as hoped, this year's sermon was delivered from the mouth of Clint Eastwood. For sincerely and effectively selling the salvation ticket, I say that Chrysler held the day.
Also, Go Giants.
Bill
