March 28, 2006

RAPTOR PIZZA PROMOTION SHOULD BE BURNT TO A CRISP

       So, there I was the other night, having absolutely enjoyed a Raptor game, and I was just about to applaud a Raptor victory—as unusual as that may sound—when, as the game buzzer was about to sound, a chorus of boos emanated across the Air Canada Center.  The home team victory had suddenly become secondary to the fans desire for pizza.  The fans booed the home team’s decision to not jack up a three ball in the dying seconds so the Raptor point production on the night could reach the magical 100-point barrier.   

      I was appalled.  It did not seem to be very important to a great majority of the fans that the home team had just concluded a thorough dismantling of a moribund Minnesota squad that seemed less interested in the game than the two members of a local high school’s offensive line that sat next to me.  The teenagers, and for that fact the ten year old kid sitting next to my wife, seemed more intent on getting up every five minutes to visit the local, and expensive eateries in the arena.  So I guess it wouldn’t be too hard to imagine why these kids were so incensed at the failure of the home team to garner them some free food.

       But why exactly does this promotion exist?  If the pizza company is intent on connecting their name and their product with the Toronto Raptors then they should do so in a more positive manner.  Basketball games are not decided by which team can get to 100 points.  The game is decided, like most games of conflict, by whichever team has the most points at the end of the game.  If the pizza company insists on handing out free product within the confines of the game’s result then let them hand out slices to everyone who attended a Raptor victory.  That way the code of professional ethics, the competitive spirit and good sportsmanship are upheld.

       And we can avoid the pitfalls that come with such a poor marketing idea. I don’t care, as a Raptor fan, if the club scores 100 points.  I get no particular satisfaction from anything other than a victory.  Now I, like most consumer, love a good deal, and I most certainly like it when free stuff is given to me, but to lower myself to such a bottom-feeding denominator where a piece of commercially made pizza dough with cheese and tomato sauce could dictate my entire mood is asinine.  If these people want pizza that badly then tell them to save the money of the ticket, go out and buy a bunch of their favourite pies and hunker down in front of the television—where they can watch the game while they stuff their faces.

       I go to a sporting event to fill my sense of entertainment, of competition, and to feel that rush of adrenaline—not to eat until I can’t move.  But then I guess I have different priorities than those kids in my row.