It is very easy to look at Stephon Marbury’s week of webcam performances and mock him, or shake your head in disbelief, or simply pity him. But in terms of branding as it relates to professional athletes, what he’s done is fascinating because it’s such an extreme example of an athlete exposing his inner life so completely to the world.
There’s a lot to be learned from it, and the reactions that have followed.
Based on what I’ve seen, it’s clearer to me than ever before that for an athlete, maintaining a significant distance between yourself, and both fans and the media, is not just important — it’s essential. That might seem contrary to everything that’s happening online right now where pro athletes are concerned, but as I’ll explain, it isn’t.
Generally, the branding takeaways from Marbury can be summed up according to the following principles:
- The Power of Awe
- A Glimpse Is Enough
- A Point Is a Good Thing
- Do What You Do Best
The Power of Awe
One of my favorite films is “Lawrence of Arabia.” I saw it for the first time when I was 17 years old on an 86-foot screen, courtesy of Los Angeles’ world famous Cinerama Dome, and the experience was, in the most literal and original sense of the word, awesome. The story, the grandeur of the film, the screen itself — everything about it dwarfed you, but at the same time, you felt like you were part of something extraordinary for a few hours, like the best films do.
Since then, I’ve watched “Lawrence of Arabia” many times, some of them on television. And while I love the film and stop to watch anytime I come across it, viewing the movie on TV is a far cry from 70mm. There’s something about Peter O’Toole, wild-eyed, screaming, “No prisoners!” as he leads hundreds of vengeful, scimitar-wielding horsemen across the desert that doesn’t quite translate to 27 inches.
Figuratively speaking, the same point can be made about professional athletes. We want athletes to awe us, and that’s precisely what they do when they’re doing what they do best: playing sports. Think of your favorite highlight — Michael Jordan hitting over Bryon Russell, John Elway going head over heels into the end zone, whatever comes to mind. That moment has an epic, emotional power; you might find yourself shaking your head in amazement right now just thinking about it. But more than just witnessing that moment, you felt part of it. A critical part of being a fan is sharing in the experience of athletes you like. They’re the actors, performing the impossible, and we’re the audience, witnessing real-time drama unfold before our eyes, and feeling connected to it with striking resonance. They’re “Lawrence of Arabia” in the Cinerama Dome, larger than life.
With rare exception, what people don’t want – despite claiming the opposite – is to really “know” athletes in a way that diminishes them, a point driven home by Marbury. When it comes to athletes, people want a sense of connection, but only if it reinforces awe or respect. Consider the idea of a role model for a second, and you’ll realize that the operative word is role; we have an idealized notion of how athletes should be, and despite ourselves, we don’t want it compromised. If Shaquille O’Neal plays well and fires off one-liners on Twitter, he’s a great athlete who’s funny, and we like him even more. If, on the other hand, his play declines to the point of mediocrity and he’s still bombarding us with jokes, then he’s more clown than athlete. He gives off the impression that he cares more about one-liners than dominating the glass, and we respect him a little less.
To an extreme degree, Marbury has stripped away everything about himself that could engender awe. There is nothing to be amazed by – at least, not in a positive sense.
A Glimpse Is Enough
“The Blair Witch Project” is a compelling example of knowledge withheld. The entire movie rests on the filmmakers NOT showing you the Blair Witch. As a result, you’ll sit in your chair for 90 minutes just to get a glimpse of it – a glimpse, of course, that never actually comes.
There has been a tremendous proliferation of Twitter and live video streaming among athletes in the last few months, and for the most part, it seems like of a lot that growth has been of the “he’s doing it, so I should be doing it” variety. Moreover, many athletes seem to be creating content indiscriminately, none more so than Marbury.
I am all for athletes interacting with fans. But fans (and media) don’t need to know everything about an athlete; in fact, the less information revealed, the more mystery about an athlete there is, making every new insight or interaction that much more potent. In the simplest terms: Less is more. With Twitter, ideally, an athlete should tweet enough to make fans feel like they are connected with or have an opportunity to connect with the athlete, while still infrequent enough to make that connection feel like it is something special. I love Twitter precisely because of the mileage an athlete can get with fans and the media with extremely limited use.
In contrast, I’m not sold on the value of live video streaming for athletes, primarily because it is so undirected and difficult to control from a branding standpoint. Clearly, it’s great for fans. But what is the upside for an athlete in a professional context? The most practical use of video streaming is directly answering questions from fans, but that’s something that can – at least where the athlete is concerned – be accomplished just as easily with Twitter with no chance of anything going wrong. Live video streaming strikes me as extremely dangerous and requires restraint. Case in point: Stephon Marbury. You can literally destroy virtually all professional and fan interest in you in a matter of minutes (or hours, as the case may be).
One of the most undervalued things an athlete can do, and which far fewer seem to be doing since the arrival of Twitter, is blog. Here’s what I like about blogging:
- It reveals thoughtfulness on the part of the blogger.
- The entry is right there on the page in its entirety.
- News organizations and bloggers can easily quote it.
- With Twitter, an athlete’s fans are sure to actually see the blog entry.
To sum up: By combining Twitter, filmed video clips (as opposed to live video content) and blog entries, an athlete can give fans insight into who they are yet still maintain the kind of distance I’ve hit on a few times already.
Purpose Is a Good Thing
Athletes are told they’re a brand all the time, but for the most part, they lack a true understanding of how to define their brand identity, and/or make that identity work for them. As a result, they tweet, they blog, they make videos, they do all of the things that everyone else is doing, and at the end of the day, much of it is pointless and arbitrary.
Having an overall brand goal – even if it’s something as simple as establishing yourself, say, as the best rookie wide receiver in the NFL – gives everything that you’re doing a focus. A comprehensive brand strategy, by extension, not only puts the content an athlete creates into a context, but provides a clear purpose for everything he does. Purpose, we would all agree, is a good thing.
One of the saddest things about Stephon Marbury is that, assuming he actually did still want to play basketball (which may not be the case), all of his misguided energy could have been put to positive use if he had some sort of branding strategy.
Do What You Do Best
Perhaps the most fundamental lesson learned from Marbury’s exploits is that people care about athletes because they are athletes, first and foremost. The clearest route to becoming a YouTube sensation (and the one that’s most useful in terms of basic branding) is for an athlete to do something jaw-dropping in whatever sport he plays.
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