August 20, 2008 in Fashion, Sports | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
Last summer, I went to a party where everyone played their "at-bat music" – what song you would have on the P.A. system as you stepped to the plate at a major league baseball game. I chose the Portsmouth Sinfonia's rendition of "Also Sprach Zarathustra," an aural experience like no other.
Ostensibly, the purposes of at-bat music are: a) getting the batter psyched by playing his favorite music, b) pumping up the crowd, and c) thus intimidating the pitcher. It's kind of like the way fife-and-drum bands were intended to strike fear into enemy soldiers. (These days, it's comical to think of fife-and-drum music as being scary, but I suppose even the Mr. Softee ice cream truck jingle would strike fear in my heart if it signaled that I was about to be shot at.)
At-bat music is a step on the road to self-actualization, or what Humanist psychologist Abraham Maslow called "the esteem needs," "where the individual will desire a sense of competence, recognition of achievement by peers, and respect from others." Having a personally selected fanfare every time one emerges into the view of perhaps hundreds of thousands of people both simulates and induces the perception of competence, recognition and respect, qualities which, in sports, are particularly intertwined. And it's true -- you have to respect anyone who has the nerve to make everyone in the stadium listen to "Who Let the Dogs Out?" each time he steps to the plate.
But I wonder if self-actualization isn't actually a means to an end that is quite removed from what's transpiring on the field.
As leading athletes make increasingly more money from endorsements than they do from playing the game, imaging has become exponentially more essential to their financial success. That's because the more vividly etched an athlete's image is, the more he or she becomes an identifiable commodity that can be exploited. Music is a supremely effective and time-honored tool for staking out just such an identity.
And in sports, identity can be very tightly bound to music. Metallica's "Enter Sandman" has become so closely associated with ace Yankees reliever Mariano Rivera that Mets pitcher Billy Wagner raised some hackles when he selected it as the music to be played as he walked to the mound. When he was a rising star on the team, Mets third baseman David Wright used David Bowie's "Fame" as his at-bat music. Choosing "Fame" — despite the song's ambivalent lyrics — is a great example of commercial self-actualization, since becoming the kind of celebrity detailed in the song would jack up Wright's endorsement fee.
At-bat music, then, is an exercise in co-branding, a way of wrapping oneself in a powerful set of associations. It just makes good business sense.
April 21, 2008 in Music, Sports | Permalink | Comments (2)
Just caught this story via CNN.com – a pro golfer named Tripp Isenhour was taping a TV show and got so angry at the squawking of a red shouldered hawk that he hit golf balls at the animal until he killed it. This fellow is a textbook example of what we call an "asshole."
Here's what Isenhour said in a prepared statement: "As soon as this happened, I was mortified and extremely upset and continue to be upset. I want to let everyone know there was neither any malice nor deliberate intent whatsoever to hit or harm the hawk. I was trying to simply scare it into flying away.''
Bullshit. Here's what actually happened, according to the official report:
The 39-year-old player, whose real name is John Henry Isenhour III, became angry while filming "Shoot Like A Pro'" on Dec. 12 at the Grand Cypress Golf Club when a squawking red-shouldered hawk roughly 300 yards away forced another take.
He drove closer to the bird in his golf cart and starting hitting balls at it. The bird didn't move and Isenhour gave up and drove away.
Isenhour started again when the hawk moved within about 75 yards, Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission officer Brian Baine indicated in a report.
Isenhour allegedly said, "I'll get him now,'' and aimed for the hawk.
"About the sixth ball came very near the bird's head, and (Isenhour) was very excited that it was so close,'' Baine wrote.
A few shots later, witnesses said he hit the hawk. The bird, protected as a migratory species, fell to the ground bleeding from both nostrils.
Jethro Senger, a sound engineer at the shoot, said hitting the bird was "basically like a joke to (Isenhour).''
I encourage you to write a brief letter of complaint to the PGA Tour here. This guy should pay dearly for such a malicious act of cruelty.
March 07, 2008 in Animals, Current Affairs, Sports, Television | Permalink | Comments (0)
The other day, D. and I sought respite from the footwear-soaking rain by ducking into the K-Mart at Astor Place. We sauntered through the fishing equipment aisle, the camping equipment aisle and the bicycle department before hitting upon what I believe is an item unique in the annals of the toy industry: these were hula-hoops gaily decorated with laser-etched designs, but that wasn't what set them apart from all other hula-hoops – no, these hula-hoops bore the scent of various fruit flavors. "FRUIT HOOPS!" the box proclaimed. But the best part was the irresistible tag-line: "SMELL ME!" I wish I had a photo of D. sniffing a hula-hoop.
April 10, 2006 in Sports | Permalink | Comments (0)