The Stanley Cup: No Words
Caught a few periods of Game 4 of the Stanley Cup Finals last night, and it got me thinking about marketing. What can I say? Playoff overtime hockey does strange things to a man.
In all seriousness, I did so in the context of taking stock of this year’s NHL commercial effort promoting the playoffs and the race to the cup. Here’s “Handoff,” if you haven’t seen it.
It’s good. The work should be good with a product as consistently must-watch as the professional hockey playoffs. It should be good with a trophy as iconic as Lord Stanley’s Cup. And what I love about the NHL’s efforts year-after-year, is that they don’t try to get “too cute” (this comes from a mid-40s-marketer who is still scarred from Major League Baseball’s Dane Cook spots from years back.) They lean into the brand strengths, balance the past and the present and lean on their greatest assets. Most of all, they hone in on a single insight unique within that realm and build around it.
So, what’s the point of sharing a “good” NHL Finals spot? It reminded me of a great one. For those that may have followed my blog musings/posts over the years, I always like to imagine this mythical creative-meets-strategy world. The “room” where the magic happened. A place and moment-in-time when the skies cleared, rays of sun showered down and a gospel choir broke out into harmonious song.
Of course, that’s never really the case. It’s often tedious, trying and bumpy as hell to get to that great place. Still, it’s fun to pretend. Here’s how I imagined part of the conversation that led to one of my all-time favorites.
Creative 1: But what’s that emotion really like? The moment you realize you’re a Stanley Cup champion.
Creative 2: People are speechless. It’s often the crowning moment of a lifetime spent playing and loving the game. From growing up a kid skating on backyard ice to your name etched in hockey history.
Creative 3: You’ve seen it before when they get asked/interviewed. They are bumbling like little kids with tears, a goofy smile or just a far off gaze in their eyes. It’s almost as if there are, literally…
All: NO. WORDS.
Right?? I’m sure that’s how it went. Had to be. Point is, this one still sits on the top shelf.
No words.
