With a 21-14 victory over the Chicago Bears on Sunday, Jan. 23, the Green Bay Packers are heading to the Super Bowl in Dallas, Texas.
Or should I say, they are heading to the “Big Game in North Texas.”
If I was an advertiser, I would be barred from using “Super Bowl” in an ad, without the express permission of the National Football League (NFL).
I’d also be barred from saying any of these words or phrases: “Super Sunday,” “NFL,” “National Football Conference (NFC),” “American Football Conference (AFC),” “Packers,” “Steelers, “Pack” and “Bucs.”
The NFL has trademarked these phrases and words, so federal law gives the NFL the exclusive right to control all marketing associated with the Super Bowl.
Since I’m in the news department, this law doesn’t apply to me. I can say Super Bowl all I want in any news stories. In fact, just to prove a point: Super Bowl, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, Super Bowl. And I’ll throw in a Super Sunday for added effect.
But this law affects our advertising salesmen, because many of their advertisers want to tie their business into the game, since that will most likely be the biggest topic on many peoples’ minds for the next few weeks. And for most business owners, it’s a wise move, because if people are talking about it, from a marketing strategy it’s a no-brainer to want to be associated with it.
Restaurants and tavern owners want the business that can be drummed up from peoples’ excitement, and retailers offer many products that can complement the thousands of Super Bowl parties that are likely to occur in Portage County on the night of Sunday, Feb. 5.
Since they are barred from mentioning those words and phrases in any ads, other creative alternatives are needed. Fortunately, the Wisconsin Newspaper Association (WNA) has come up with such a list. Among the WNA’s recommendations are “the Big Game in North Texas” and “the football championship game.”
Advertisers are also urged to use the date of the game, the names of the teams home cities, and generic football pictures and graphics to make their association with. And here’s my suggestion, “the Tremendous Pastime Played with a Pigskin Ball Match Featuring the Two Best Teams in Two Different U.S. Conferences.”
While most people probably won’t notice the lack of true NFL references in the ads, many will have no problem determining their connection to the Super Sunday Super Bowl. Thanks to many of these creative alternatives.
Showing posts with label Packers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Packers. Show all posts
Friday, April 8, 2011
Even with loss to Packers, ‘Philadelphia’ will always be ‘Sunny’
I almost rooted for the Philadelphia Eagles to beat the Green Bay Packers this past Sunday.
My near-support wasn’t because I like Michael Vick’s “redemption” story; I actually thought he deserved to lose for further punishment of his heinous crimes.
And it wasn’t because I still have a bit of a grudge against the Packers for the entire Brett Favre debacle that took place the last three seasons. I’m over it now, especially now that Favre appears to be officially retired.
It’s because I’m in love with a television show set in Philadelphia, “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.”
Unlike some television shows set in specific cities, this one is actually filmed there and is nearly as much a part of it as some of the characters in it. I’ve become a little bit obsessed with Philadelphia while watching six seasons of the show over the past month, much like I became semi-obsessed with New Orleans last year after watching HBO’s “Tremé.”
While the title of the show may suggest it shows the brighter side of the city, in reality it’s about a group of characters who are anything but “Sunny,” as none of them have any redeeming characteristics about them except that they are funny.
The best description I can come up with is to take the main characters of “Seinfeld” and make them a lot meaner, and then put them in South Philadelphia in a “Cheers”-like scenario, as they own and work at Paddy’s Pub, an Irish bar that seemingly doesn’t have any customers and is named by the city’s newspaper as the “Worst Bar in Philadelphia.”
The bar is owned by Frank Reynolds (Danny Devito), his once-son Dennis (Glenn Howerton), and Dennis’ friends Mac (Rob McElhenney) and Charlie Kelly (Charlie Day). Helping them is Dennis’ twin sister, Deandra “Sweet Dee” Reynolds (Kaitlin Olson).
Collectively, they are referred to as “The Gang,” and each half-hour episode focuses on some of their outrageous exploits. Episodes have included ones about holding an intervention to address Frank’s drug and alcohol problem (not because The Gang cares about him, but because they want stuff from him and his problem is prohibiting them from getting it); staging a musical (surprisingly not as bad as it probably should have been); going to a World Series game (when the Phillies beat the Tampa Bay Rays in 2008); and hosting a dance marathon (in which Charlie accidentally offered the bar as the grand-prize).
Although the characters are people nobody would ever claim to know in real life, as they are often vile, crude and disgusting, watching them on this show is always good for some hard laughs. It’s often hard to name which character you like best, because that can sometimes depend on who you laughed at most in the last episode you watched.
Frank Reynolds is literally a troll, especially the way Devito plays him, and Dennis is a “player” who is not nearly as good as he thinks he is. Mac and Sweet Dee have their own hilarious qualities, but it is Charlie who is the star of the show. He’s the “wild card,” much like Cosmo Kramer on “Seinfeld,” and his antics are often baffling. He could be the poster child for why people should learn how to read and write, since he is unable to himself.
Despite my love for the show, I still couldn’t muster up enough support in myself to root for the Eagles. For some reason, I think the characters would understand. Then again, they’d probably be completely indifferent to my feelings and wouldn’t care either way.
My near-support wasn’t because I like Michael Vick’s “redemption” story; I actually thought he deserved to lose for further punishment of his heinous crimes.
And it wasn’t because I still have a bit of a grudge against the Packers for the entire Brett Favre debacle that took place the last three seasons. I’m over it now, especially now that Favre appears to be officially retired.
It’s because I’m in love with a television show set in Philadelphia, “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.”
Unlike some television shows set in specific cities, this one is actually filmed there and is nearly as much a part of it as some of the characters in it. I’ve become a little bit obsessed with Philadelphia while watching six seasons of the show over the past month, much like I became semi-obsessed with New Orleans last year after watching HBO’s “Tremé.”
While the title of the show may suggest it shows the brighter side of the city, in reality it’s about a group of characters who are anything but “Sunny,” as none of them have any redeeming characteristics about them except that they are funny.
The best description I can come up with is to take the main characters of “Seinfeld” and make them a lot meaner, and then put them in South Philadelphia in a “Cheers”-like scenario, as they own and work at Paddy’s Pub, an Irish bar that seemingly doesn’t have any customers and is named by the city’s newspaper as the “Worst Bar in Philadelphia.”
The bar is owned by Frank Reynolds (Danny Devito), his once-son Dennis (Glenn Howerton), and Dennis’ friends Mac (Rob McElhenney) and Charlie Kelly (Charlie Day). Helping them is Dennis’ twin sister, Deandra “Sweet Dee” Reynolds (Kaitlin Olson).
Collectively, they are referred to as “The Gang,” and each half-hour episode focuses on some of their outrageous exploits. Episodes have included ones about holding an intervention to address Frank’s drug and alcohol problem (not because The Gang cares about him, but because they want stuff from him and his problem is prohibiting them from getting it); staging a musical (surprisingly not as bad as it probably should have been); going to a World Series game (when the Phillies beat the Tampa Bay Rays in 2008); and hosting a dance marathon (in which Charlie accidentally offered the bar as the grand-prize).
Although the characters are people nobody would ever claim to know in real life, as they are often vile, crude and disgusting, watching them on this show is always good for some hard laughs. It’s often hard to name which character you like best, because that can sometimes depend on who you laughed at most in the last episode you watched.
Frank Reynolds is literally a troll, especially the way Devito plays him, and Dennis is a “player” who is not nearly as good as he thinks he is. Mac and Sweet Dee have their own hilarious qualities, but it is Charlie who is the star of the show. He’s the “wild card,” much like Cosmo Kramer on “Seinfeld,” and his antics are often baffling. He could be the poster child for why people should learn how to read and write, since he is unable to himself.
Despite my love for the show, I still couldn’t muster up enough support in myself to root for the Eagles. For some reason, I think the characters would understand. Then again, they’d probably be completely indifferent to my feelings and wouldn’t care either way.
Family’s nail worse than Packers’ ‘dagger’
I’m not sure who had a worse day on Sunday: the Green Bay Packers in barely beating the winless Detroit Lions or my family who had to substitute a trip on the Ducks in Wisconsin Dells with more than five hours of dealing with a hapless chain store.
Our troubles started more than two hours before the hyped Packers began their listless game against the Lions. On our way out of the Dells, after spending four days there for a mini-vacation (not so much so for my wife, Jenny, who was there more for work reasons), we decided to stop at one of the many places offering Ducks tours. Our son, Braden, and I had never been on one before, and because the autumn weather was beautiful, we thought it was the perfect opportunity to take a maiden Ducks voyage.
Exiting our vehicle and walking to the ticket entrance, Jenny noticed the front driver’s side tire was going flat. I looked and noticed a nail in the tire, much to all of our dismay.
Being Sunday, we decided the situation needed to be addressed immediately. I got out our spare tire and fairly quickly replaced the flattening tire with it. A bit of an expert at changing tires, as it really is the only mechanical thing I can do with a vehicle (even changing a windshield wiper is too much of an endeavor for me), I figured this problem was going to be quickly resolved.
Since most car mechanics are closed on Sundays, and also being in the Dells, which doesn’t seem to have many service garages available next to any of its dozen water parks, we took our vehicle to a chain store that features an auto center where we figured the mechanics there could fix the tire and put it back on the car, allowing us to drive back to Plover on a real tire and not a spare.
The lady who helped us was rude, but we didn’t really care. As long as they could fix the tire in the back of our vehicle and put it back on, life would be good.
Forty minutes later, when the problem was allegedly fixed, we got in our vehicle for the trip home. Jenny noticed they hadn’t charged us to fix the tire, so I got out to examine it to make sure a nail wasn’t still embedded in it.
The tire looked a little different, but I figured that was because they had washed it. The mechanic, seeing me examining the tire, came out and said the tire needed some air, but other than that it was fine. I asked about the nail, and when he looked dumbfounded, I had a momentary dumbspell. “Maybe there wasn’t a nail and it was just a small pebble wedged in the tire treads,” I said.
He agreed, noting the cold air the previous night can sometimes cause tires to lose a little air and look flat.
Jenny and I laughed about this, thinking our own foolishness actually saved us $50 since we were no longer going to take a Ducks tour, much to the unhappiness of Braden.
When we arrived in Plover and I attempted to fill up our gas tank – I couldn’t because the gas station ran out of gas, which is perfectly fitting to how things had gone – Braden asked Jenny about our “old tire” I had taken off. “They put it back on,” Jenny said, realizing maybe that wasn’t the case.
She got out of the vehicle and asked if the tire on our vehicle was still the spare. I looked at it, and said I don’t think so. “Look at the tire in the back,” she said.
As soon as I looked back there I saw the nail that originally started our troubles. “&*@#” and a few other choice words slipped out of me at that point.
We went to the Plover location of the same chain store, determined to fix the problem so Jenny wouldn’t have to drive to Marshfield on a spare the next day.
They were much nicer there, but unfortunately they were equally as inept. After hearing about our problem, the people there said they’ll fix it. Come back in 40 minutes, they said.
Forty minutes later, we returned to our car parked in the same location, untouched. “We have a problem,” they said. “The nail is located in an area we can’t patch up for liability reasons.”
Because the nail was located on the curve of the tire, policy dictates the mechanics there aren’t allowed to fix it. I understand this and realize I’m not going to convince them to change their policy. But, what I couldn’t understand was how they couldn’t page us or call us – they had our phone number – to let us know immediately about the issue, so we didn’t have to waste another 40 minutes looking at items on store shelves we had no intention of buying.
Fuming, I had Jenny handle the situation, which required another 40-minute wait as they replaced the spare with a brand new tire. I sat on a bench during this time, refusing to look at any items for the fear of purchasing anything from a store angering me.
This part of the escapade occurred during the second half of the Packers-Lions game, and when we finally got back in the car I heard the Packers announcer shout something about a first down being “the dagger” to give the Packers the victory. It sounded exciting, and at least it wasn’t a nail like the one we had to deal with. Only later did I learn the Packers barely escaped with a win, putting up a pathetic effort in the half and barely deserving the victory.
At least they came away with a win. We came away without a Ducks tour, a new tire to replace a tire we just purchased a few months ago, and a wasted morning and afternoon spent dealing with a stupid nail and a chain store that made the problem worse. I’ll take the Packers’ afternoon any day.
Our troubles started more than two hours before the hyped Packers began their listless game against the Lions. On our way out of the Dells, after spending four days there for a mini-vacation (not so much so for my wife, Jenny, who was there more for work reasons), we decided to stop at one of the many places offering Ducks tours. Our son, Braden, and I had never been on one before, and because the autumn weather was beautiful, we thought it was the perfect opportunity to take a maiden Ducks voyage.
Exiting our vehicle and walking to the ticket entrance, Jenny noticed the front driver’s side tire was going flat. I looked and noticed a nail in the tire, much to all of our dismay.
Being Sunday, we decided the situation needed to be addressed immediately. I got out our spare tire and fairly quickly replaced the flattening tire with it. A bit of an expert at changing tires, as it really is the only mechanical thing I can do with a vehicle (even changing a windshield wiper is too much of an endeavor for me), I figured this problem was going to be quickly resolved.
Since most car mechanics are closed on Sundays, and also being in the Dells, which doesn’t seem to have many service garages available next to any of its dozen water parks, we took our vehicle to a chain store that features an auto center where we figured the mechanics there could fix the tire and put it back on the car, allowing us to drive back to Plover on a real tire and not a spare.
The lady who helped us was rude, but we didn’t really care. As long as they could fix the tire in the back of our vehicle and put it back on, life would be good.
Forty minutes later, when the problem was allegedly fixed, we got in our vehicle for the trip home. Jenny noticed they hadn’t charged us to fix the tire, so I got out to examine it to make sure a nail wasn’t still embedded in it.
The tire looked a little different, but I figured that was because they had washed it. The mechanic, seeing me examining the tire, came out and said the tire needed some air, but other than that it was fine. I asked about the nail, and when he looked dumbfounded, I had a momentary dumbspell. “Maybe there wasn’t a nail and it was just a small pebble wedged in the tire treads,” I said.
He agreed, noting the cold air the previous night can sometimes cause tires to lose a little air and look flat.
Jenny and I laughed about this, thinking our own foolishness actually saved us $50 since we were no longer going to take a Ducks tour, much to the unhappiness of Braden.
When we arrived in Plover and I attempted to fill up our gas tank – I couldn’t because the gas station ran out of gas, which is perfectly fitting to how things had gone – Braden asked Jenny about our “old tire” I had taken off. “They put it back on,” Jenny said, realizing maybe that wasn’t the case.
She got out of the vehicle and asked if the tire on our vehicle was still the spare. I looked at it, and said I don’t think so. “Look at the tire in the back,” she said.
As soon as I looked back there I saw the nail that originally started our troubles. “&*@#” and a few other choice words slipped out of me at that point.
We went to the Plover location of the same chain store, determined to fix the problem so Jenny wouldn’t have to drive to Marshfield on a spare the next day.
They were much nicer there, but unfortunately they were equally as inept. After hearing about our problem, the people there said they’ll fix it. Come back in 40 minutes, they said.
Forty minutes later, we returned to our car parked in the same location, untouched. “We have a problem,” they said. “The nail is located in an area we can’t patch up for liability reasons.”
Because the nail was located on the curve of the tire, policy dictates the mechanics there aren’t allowed to fix it. I understand this and realize I’m not going to convince them to change their policy. But, what I couldn’t understand was how they couldn’t page us or call us – they had our phone number – to let us know immediately about the issue, so we didn’t have to waste another 40 minutes looking at items on store shelves we had no intention of buying.
Fuming, I had Jenny handle the situation, which required another 40-minute wait as they replaced the spare with a brand new tire. I sat on a bench during this time, refusing to look at any items for the fear of purchasing anything from a store angering me.
This part of the escapade occurred during the second half of the Packers-Lions game, and when we finally got back in the car I heard the Packers announcer shout something about a first down being “the dagger” to give the Packers the victory. It sounded exciting, and at least it wasn’t a nail like the one we had to deal with. Only later did I learn the Packers barely escaped with a win, putting up a pathetic effort in the half and barely deserving the victory.
At least they came away with a win. We came away without a Ducks tour, a new tire to replace a tire we just purchased a few months ago, and a wasted morning and afternoon spent dealing with a stupid nail and a chain store that made the problem worse. I’ll take the Packers’ afternoon any day.
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