Here’s this cutesy-wootsey AT&T commercial about a little girl and her lost dog and how technology comes in and saves the day.
Recognize anyone? For the majority of the population, probably not. The big guy at the end is former UNC All-American Tyler Hansbrough. Does anyone else find this a little weird?
In effect, it seems, the ad tells us that tall people find dogs better with their phones than others? I’m finding it a little hard to reconcile the sports athlete with the dog finder. I know I’m overanalyzing, but there’s something there that I can’t quite put my finger on.
I think it’s interesting that the first sponsorship available to this guy is a telephone campaign. You’d think that most athletes would get a shoe or sports clothing or sports drink or something like that. But Tyler Hansbrough gets a national phone commercial.
What does this mean? Not sure, but if most people don’t connect the guy giving the dog back as some famous basketball player, was it worth AT&T’s money? And if people don’t make the connection here, would they make the connection with other products?
It seems Hansbrough’s handlers would have tied him with something that would guarantee a connection and success. With this, though, it seems to have the potential to lessen his spokesman prospects in the future.
Of course, if he goes on to make his mark in professional basketball, it’s all a moot point.
Six random thoughts that crossed the noggin during the Rusted Root House of Blues Orlando show:
The male tramp stamp?
What’s the male equivalent of a tramp stamp? It’s gotta be the arm band that sticks out just below the sleeve. If the tramp stamp signifies a little wild side underneath “normal” clothing, the arm band says the same thing.
The 75 percent rule. In a band of four persons of more, there’s a 75 percent chance that the chubbiest one plays bass. I don’t know why, it’s just so. (for the record, if I was in a band, there’d be a 90 percent chance I’d play bass. Two of them.) Conversely, there’s a 32 percent chance the drummer is the skinniest member of the band.
Bless the hearts of people who can dance with wild abandon (usually at the risk of life and limb of those around them). Sure they get on the nerves, but I could never so that, even if I wanted. I’m too self aware. Painfully so.
We’re a sports crazy nation. Between songs, the band kept the audience up to date with the Stanley Cup game 7. The fact that sports are on their minds and of interest to the audience seems to signify its centrality in American life.
We love technology (thank you Neil Postman, the patron theorist of the ramble). After hearing hockey updates, I can’t tell you how many people whipped out their smart phones and checked the web for the score. I mean, it was almost second nature. Plus, the rise of quality camera phones has changed concert-going experience, memorabilia and the concert photography business.
What’s the point of an encore? Just once, I’d like to see a band play long enough and with enough passion to make an encore worthless.
While it may seem like the mind wandered, a night out watching live music is usually better than a night spent watching television.
In protest to one of the worst starts in the history of baseball, the letter “O” boycotted the Washington Nationals’ game April 18.
A spokesman for the two “O”’s said the protest was warranted.
“My clients were tired to sitting on the chests of this lousy team,” said Larry Lumpkin of Alphabet Associates, the letter union. “Many major league players take days off, why shouldn’t the letters? Since the club isn’t putting up any ‘O,’ why should my clients?”
The Nationals, who started the season 0-7 and currently hold a 1-10 record, have the worst record in baseball.
“I wish I could sit out,” muttered Bob Leflerini, equipment manager. “But, then again, it’s not like they’re missing anything exciting.”
For more equipment failure, check out this blog post.
Was saddened to hear about Rodney Rogers this morning during SportsCenter. Whenever I hear Rogers’ name, it brings back memories.
I had the privilege of seeing Rogers play for Hillside (Durham, N.C.) High early in my career as a reporter for The News of Orange County. It was the first time I had ever seen such a buzz around a high schooler. I remember in a game at Orange High School, the home team had a student manager who, after the game, went to Rogers to get an autograph. That memory has always struck me as somewhat odd. What does a 17-year-old quiet basketball player think when someone around his age asks for an autograph?
Another time, I believe it was the Orange-Hillside game at Hillside. I remember being somewhat unimpressed with him during the first half. Then, out of nowhere, there was a steal, a pass and Rogers caught the ball around half court, took two steps and leapt – the thrill of what was coming buzzed through the crowd in the way that anticipation makes a child giggle – and then the slam dunk. I distinctly remember the thumping sound of the rim as the ball was forcibly shoved through it. And then the roar of the crowd. Even the Orange fans yelled.
That moment, to me, was the epitome of the phrase “a man among boys.” It was then that I had an idea that he was special.
And he still is. Thoughts and prayers to Rodney Rogers. He brought a lot of smiles to basketball fans, now may they return the favor with their good will.
If the Rays lose the World Series, I’m sorry. It’s partially my fault. And this is my confession.
I have to confess a superstition. I get it honestly. My grandfather was a superstitious man. He would tell us that rocking a chair with no one in it was bad luck. He wouldn’t enter a building in one door and leave through another. The same exit had to be used.
However, I think my superstition is a little “out there.” And I also think it is growing.
I spent the formulative years in the Tarheel State, and, like most people who grew up there, I learned that there were two types of people: those who like UNC and those who didn’t. I am in the former category. Since college basketball is the pinnacle of sports in the state, Carolina basketball was a life-or-death proposition for most of us.
I tell you that to get to my superstition: I don’t watch Carolina basketball on television. If I do, they lose. Without fail. That’s the painful truth: I am bad luck to the powder blue. I seem to remember as far back as the 1982 championship, I would leave the room in tense situations. I don’t really remember the last 30 seconds of the game. I either had my eyes closed or went into another room and listened.
Over the years, it has proven itself over and over again. But now I think that it has spread. For example:
I watched the second half of the UNC-Virginia game Oct. 18. UNC was ahead. And then, for some unknown reason, they let Virginia romp down the field with little or no time left to tie the score. UNC lost in OT.
I watched UNC football again last Saturday. This time, I watched early and the team struggled — again giving up a ridiculous score late in the first half to put the game in question. I didn’t watch the second half and UNC won comfortably.
The Tampa Bay Buccaneers were winning their game Sunday against Dallas until I got home and turned on the television. They lost.
Game 4 of the World Series on Sunday, Oct. 27. I watched most of the game and the Tampa Bay Rays struggled. I left the room — and I have two witnesses to back me on this — and they scored a run. I watched the rest of the game and they lost.
I flipped over to see the score in game five and they were losing. I didn’t watch and they battled to a tie.
The poor Rays. I didn’t watch them all year. Didn’t really watch them in the playoffs. But they get to the World Series and I take note. And they falter. A lot.
I know this sounds unreasonable, but why fight it? I vow now only watch games that don’t matter … like Premier League soccer. And Detroit football.
Anyway, I just wanted to apologize to the Rays and let them know that I’ll take part of the blame. I watched too much.
Recognize anyone? For the majority of the population, probably not. The big guy at the end is former UNC All-American Tyler Hansbrough. Does anyone else find this a little weird?
In protest to one of the worst starts in the history of baseball, the letter “O” boycotted the Washington Nationals’ game April 18.
