Yesterday’s admission by St. Louis Cardinals former slugger and now batting coach Mark McGwire – that he took steroids multiple times throughout his career, including his record-breaking 1998 season – was incredibly boring and predictable. But from a PR standpoint, it was pretty smart.
EVERYONE has known McGwire took steroids since his obtuse, goofy Capitol Hill testimony in 2005. But in formally admitting his mistake, McGwire and his camp efficiently handled a tight situation and should be commended. A press release was sent out in the afternoon and soon after he gave interviews with all the major outlets: the Associated Press, ESPN, the MLB Network, The New York Times, and The St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Not only did he make himself available, but McGwire was candid, open, and emotional.
With spring training starting next month, McGwire will again be a public figure in his role as the Cardinals hitting coach. Had he not addressed the steroid issue before then, the Cardinals would be bogged down by nagging media wanting to ask questions. McGwire, quite simply, would have been a distraction.
His open, honest approach – however painful it is to McGwire now – will reap quick benefits. He can move on with his life and new job. The St. Louis Cardinals can start spring training with less of a media circus. And the fans and media will certainly move on. Quickly. Because McGwire just admitted what most of us already suspected for years, this has already become a non-issue. The steroid issue in Major League Baseball has been so much more complex than Mark McGwire, we’re already past him.
In my last post, I wrote about Gilbert Arenas’ curious approach to crisis management, how his use of comedic indifference and tacky public gestures ultimately landed him in a very expensive timeout and lost him a lot of good will with his fans. Standing in stark contrast to that behavior is the smart, proactive method used by Mark McGwire and his PR team. It was an orchestrated move, sure. And, yes, it should have been done years ago. But it was deftly executed, and I think that’s important to remember as well.
Links:
McGwire apologies to LaRussa, Selig (ESPN)
The How-To of an Admission in the Steroid Era (New York Times)
Well, that didn’t take long, did it? Just a week into the new decade and Washington Wizards guard Gilbert Arenas has already taken the heat off Tiger Woods (so to speak).
Arenas was suspended indefinitely yesterday by NBA commissioner David Stern over a late-December incident where the all-star guard brought four unloaded handguns into the Wizards locker room. Because of Washington D.C.’s strict handgun laws, Arenas is now also under investigation by federal and local authorities and could face heavy fines and jail time.
Aside from the utter lunacy that a professional athlete (or anyone) would bring guns to his place of work, I’m most fascinated by Arenas’ bizarre reaction to and nonchalant attitude toward his predicament.
Forget Shaq, Gilbert Arenas was the NBA’s original social media pioneer*. When he launched his personal blog on NBA.com in 2006, the world got an inside look at pro basketball’s most eccentric star, a man Chuck Klosterman once described as “the greatest, weirdest NBA personality since Darryl Dawkins.” Arenas embraced the power of a blog as a true marketing platform, leveraging the buzz surrounding his site into fame, popularity, and, ultimately, endorsements. While the NBA was just dipping its toe into the social media waters (okay, it was a wading pool in 2006), Gilbert Arenas was doing cannonballs off the high-dive.
But for all his greatness as an early adopter, Arenas has shown that social media – and a new decade of sports PR – has quickly passed him by.
Instead of keeping quiet and standing behind his contrite public apology, Arenas has damaged himself and his image by making off-color jokes on Twitter, miming firing pistols at teammates in pregame warmups, and complaining to mainstream media about being misrepresented. In very public forums he has reacted to a serious situation like a petulant, obnoxious teenager. And while David Stern did not specifically cite Arenas’ behavior on Twitter as a specific reason for his indefinite suspension, it’s not to see that he was sick of the negative publicity Agent Zero was bringing to the league through it.
As marketers, we talk all the time about how great using platforms like Twitter can be for athletes. But we also keep seeing players stumble over and over again, often with real, tangible consequences; Arenas will lose over $100,000 in salary for each game he is suspended. If 2009 was all about athletes and teams picking up the social media tools, 2010 needs to be all about learning how to use them correctly.
Will Leitch, in a great piece for the New York Magazine sports blog, wrote that Gilbert Arenas is changing the way we think about Twitter. But he’s wrong. Gilbert Arenas hasn’t changed the way we think about Twitter; he’s reinforced the importance of using social media responsibly, which has been there all along.
*I suppose it was actually Paul Shirley, but labeling an end-of-the-bench guy as the NBA’s social media pioneer is kind of like calling Michael Keaton the pioneer of the Batman franchise. Technically, both Shirley and Keaton were there first, but in the end they’re both kind of forgettable. Michael Keaton as Batman just seems laughable now, doesn’t it? The guy made My Life for crying out loud.
Links:
Wizards’ Gilbert Arenas and Javaris Crittendon pull pistols on each other (NY Post)
Wizards’ Arenas Says Unloaded Guns Were A Misguided Joke (New York Times)
Arenas suspended indefinitely (ESPN)
Photo credit: ToastyKen
