As a fan of SPORT, I refuse to watch the media circus that is currently taking place on ESPN and all other affiliates.
How has this become such a spectacle? I get it that he is arguably one of the greatest players in the game right now. That’s fine. I get it that he will be making a huge decision that will change the lives of many people and corporations. That’s also fine. What I don’t get is the hour long television prime time event, given the name that sounds like it should be an episode of the Apprentice.
How do you justify this?
PR is a beautiful thing. It’s the difference between Nibs and Twizzlers.
The twist.
He’s donating the funds to his Boys & Girls Club? ok… he’s actually donating the advertising dollars from the ‘event’ to the Boys & Girls Club… it’s a great act of social responsibility. Kind of. The man will have so much money at his disposal that the money from the press conference will be nothing to him, and yes, everything to those boys & girls. But the money that stems from the press conference and all the hype (not discounting his skill level) will amount to much more over the years. Jersey sales, ticket sales, licensing deals, endorsements, hell, property value – all of this will rise wherever the ‘King’ decides to move, and yes, should he leave Cleveland it will have the opposite effect, but the footprint is in the sand.
Every story can be spun, and yes Lebron looks like the ‘good guy’ for making these donations, and ESPN is the gremlin who is making this a spectacle on national TV. But it’s the principle of the matter. WHY do you need to do this on national TV going into the weekend? It’s the reason why all press conferences are held. Publicity. Of course the media and fans are going to find out one way or another – why tarnish the integrity of sport while you’re at it?
He stayed in Cleveland.
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Celebrating ONE YEAR!
Looking through our blog posts, it just dawned on us that April 2010 marks the one year anniversary of the The PLAYmakers blog.
As such, we wanted to take the opportunity to say
THANK YOU to all our readers for your continued interest and support of TO PLAY.
We look forward to celebrating many more anniversaries!
The PLAYmakers invite YOU (yeah that’s right, YOU-the person reading this) to send us topics of interest you would like us to write about or perhaps you may want to consider being a guest blogger for TO PLAY (we like those:)). Check back and check back often as you just never know who may stop by to give us their insights, stories, or pictures!
Happy Weekend Friends!
The PLAYmakers
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Spring’s in the air….
There is something about this time of year that has everyone in a bit of a frenzy. Perhaps it’s because mother nature is ready to give us some nice weather (or atleast a taste of it) or perhaps it’s because it’s just that time of year.
April marks the beginning of baseball season (GO JAYS GO) and soccer season (TFC…) and unfortunately for our Raps, the end of basketball season. It marks the beginning of patio weather and “I will do anything to be out side right now.”
For many, this time of year signals “it’s time TO PLAY.”
Our challenge to you is: TO PLAY and play well. Get out there, enjoy the nice weather, join a team, learn a sport, experience a sport. PLAY. Spring has sprung. It’s time TO PLAY my friends!
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Come one, come all, It’s Time TO PLAY!
Join the playmakers and our favourite people as we take in the action when the Toronto Raptors take on the Chicago Bulls in what could be one of the most exciting games of the season. The Raps currently sit in the 8th and final spot of the playoffs while the Bulls are ONE game back. In what could be the “turning point” of our season, join us for the 2nd last home game of the season. COME TO PLAY!
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Read this article in the March 15th issue of Sports Illustrated, and I couldn’t NOT post it – it was written by Chris Ballard, author The Art of a Beautiful Game.
Enjoy:
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Next month my father turns 71, and by all measures medical and practical he shouldn’t be playing basketball. Six years ago he had both knees replaced, the eroded cartilage switched out for titanium joints. Doctors told him never to run again. Then last year his right shoulder—his shooting shoulder—started to go. Inflammation, the doc said. It’s therapy or surgery.
For many people Phil’s age that would have been that. Time to retire the rec specs, hone the putting stroke, buy some Rockports. But of course giving up a game isn’t merely giving up a game. My dad grew up in Indiana, where a jump shot is required as proof of citizenship. His father played semipro ball, teaching Phil how to start his shot low and release it high, launching J’s as if out of a shower stall. Dad continued to play through school, then through the long days and short nights of parenthood and medical residency, sneaking out for lunchtime games of pickup.
For my older brother and me, hoops was the language of family. We never “talked it out” with Dad, a laconic, humble Midwesterner who can make a 45-minute drive in near silence feel comfortable. His idea of a heart-to-heart was preaching the prudence of bounce passes; our dialogue came in games of three-on-three on our makeshift backyard court, Phil taking it to the other dads. We spent countless twilight hours playing H-O-R-S-E at the park, and often the only sound was the hiss of the ball and the shiiing! of its arrival into the metal net. Who needed words—wasn’t the meaning clear?
As my brother and I got older, the connection held fast. There was the time, 15 years ago, when the two of us had a playoff game in a high-level Philly rec league and only three guys showed up. With no other options, we called home, where my parents were in the middle of a nice lamb dinner.
“Dad, any chance you can play tonight?”
“When?”
“Um, right now?”
Dad put down his fork and 10 minutes later he was at the gym, hightops in hand. Some people ask their fathers for a car loan; we ask ours to play the top of a makeshift four-man zone on a full stomach, a 55-year-old in sweatpants trying to stop dribble penetration from 23-year-old former college players. We almost won, too.
So it struck me like a thunderclap last year when I heard the teenager at the gym say, “Who’s the old guy?” The kid was standing at midcourt and pointing at Phil, but he couldn’t be talking about my dad, right? He wasn’t old. Sure, my brother and I usually rigged the teams so we could play with Phil, and yes, he had become mainly a half-court spot-up shooter, and granted, his hair was gray and his knee braces thick. But the old guy? I wanted to tell the kid he could learn a thing or seven about ball movement and court presence from watching this old guy, tell him how Phil used to be able to jump out of the gym, but I knew how stupid it would sound. Dad spent all those years fighting the impulse to protect me out on the court; I owed it to him to do the same.
Then again, if the kid wondered why Phil was out there, well, it was a fair question. Why choose to endure an afternoon of searing shoulder pain to get banged around by men half your age when you could be sitting in a golf cart like most self-respecting 70-year-old doctors, talking about mutual funds? Many days at the Y, Phil’s the oldest player by 30 years. And since pickup basketball is survival of the fittest—win or get off the court—every twentysomething he guards sizes him up as an easy mark.
So why keep playing? Dad doesn’t talk about it, but I have an idea. Jack Kirk, who ran marathons well into his 90s, once said, “You don’t stop running because you get old, you get old because you stop running,” and surely this is part of the reason. There’s the joy of competition, too, but there’s something else. When I asked my mom what playing basketball means to Phil, she didn’t hesitate: “With his boys? How about everything.”
Two months ago Dad and I were on the same team at the Y. As usual, the defense sagged off the old guy, daring Phil to shoot and, as usual, he hesitated. But he hit the first shot, and then a three. Emboldened, Dad went in the post and unfurled a little jump hook. Money! Then an up-and-under, spinning away from the defense like a creaky ballerina and bringing a whoop from the sideline. After winning two games, we faced a stacked team. Soon, the score was tied at 19, next basket wins.
By my count Dad had hit seven of his eight attempts. Yet the defense again left him open in the corner. As he caught the ball, he ignored his shoulder and the two men racing at him and his balky knees, and pushed his shot up and out, just like his dad taught him, just like he taught us.
And then, the moment we all play for, no matter our age. As the ball dropped through the net clean, I roared in triumph and the opposing players argued about who left the old guy open. And Phil—well, as usual, he didn’t say anything.
But he did smile.
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Hey Everyone,
It’s GUEST BLOGGER TIME! Today’s Guest Blogger is Marysia Czarski from Velocity-Partnerships (www.velocity-partnerships.com). The blog below is from her original post made on February 25th, 2010.
What does a Gold Medal Performance look like to you?
Last night (February 24th) Joannie Rochette won a bronze medal in women’s figure skating. If I was to leave it there, you might have a number of opinions about that result. The background to this story, as you probably know is that Joannie’s Mom and Dad had joined her in Vancouver late last week. On Saturday night, three days before Joannie was to be on the ice, her mother died of a heart attack. Her Mom was only 55. Joannie could have reacted in so many ways including completely withdrawing from the games. Joannie chose to continue her Olympic quest and in fact laid down the two best performances of her skating career. And she won the bronze medal, however for Joannie, and for Canada it was golden in every way possible. For Joannie, she said just competing was a fantastic result for her.
I asked the question ‘what does a gold medal performance look like to you’ because it is an interesting inquiry into ‘results’. Before you knew the background to Joannie, you may not have thought that her result was outstanding. When you hear from it the context of what has happened in her life over the last week, suddenly it changes light, and you realize she was brilliant and inspiring. Therefore the leadership lesson from Joannie’s experience is keep the context in perspective when looking at results. Know what ‘gold’ looks like for you and your business team, and why that is important. Finally whatever ‘gold’ does look like, ensure everyone understands it, can be inspired by it, and knows how to work towards it so they can work ‘inside’ of that shared commitment, instead of just ‘working’. That transparency, engagement and focus has the greatest chance of allowing results to emerge that may even pleasantly surprise you.
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It’s Time TO PLAY
You know you want to. We know you want to. So let’s make it happen.
On Sunday April 11th, 2010, come join the PLAYmakers and everyone you know as our Toronto Raptors take on the Chicago Bulls in their second last home game of the season.
The discount tickets are in, we just need you to make the call. Bring your family and friends and let’s make this event one to remember!
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That Timmy’s commercial with Sidney Crosby still gives me goosebumps every time I see it…
Last week I heard a story that hit home with me…and for no real reason other than the fact it was a genuine feel good story. No barriers were crushed, no obstacles overcome, no ‘Road to the Gold’ mentality…it was just a feel-good story, one that if you weren’t paying attention, would probably go unnoticed.
A colleague of mine in Montreal was the one who told me the story, and was able to give me goosebumps at 5:00 on a Tuesday afternoon when most people were taking off for the train ride home, the first day back after the long weekend (God bless family day).
We were promoting the Stanley Cup Playoffs at work as our sales teams went out pitching to the media buyers, and with them was the one of the most iconic hockey figures you will ever come across. The shimmer will make you look twice….hockey fan or not. The stories, the legacy…the tears of happiness and the tears of defeat suddenly rush to the forefront of everyone’s emotion once the first glimpse of this figure is seen. I have seen many grown men, in the best shape anyone can be, be beat up and beat down all over the ice – take sticks, pucks, and fists to the mouth, and still push on. But the first time they lay eyes on this icon they become children..most if not all…weep.
The Stanley Cup has a way of touching everyone it surrounds and this story is an example of it.
Father & son – playing hockey on the backyard rink (I swear this wasn’t scripted, but someone get Tim Hortons or MasterCard on the phone..) the little boy filled with the genuine love of the game, out to all hours of the night (or if you lived in my house, until the street lights came on…that was the ‘final buzzer’). No CBA could taint this kids view of hockey (note I didn’t say NHL) – watching his stars is one thing – flying down the ice pretending to be those God-like figures is another. He shoots and scores, and each goal is as exciting as his first. He’s a kid. He’s a fan. He’s the root of all real sports fans.
His father organized a game in his backyard and had it fixed that his son would score the overtime winning goal because he knew that there wasn’t a single thing on earth that would make this kid smile more than that goal.
It went off without a hitch – the friendly game of pick-up with friends and family went to sudden death, and the little boy got his goal. On top of the world.
His father then surprised him with a mock Stanley Cup, crafted mostly with tin foil and scotch tape. The kind we’ve all had at one point (mom always knew where to look when a roll of tin foil and 3 tupperware containers were missing). The boy was so happy and excited and he turned to his father and said…. “Dad, one day I’m going to win the Stanley Cup…and I’m going to give it you”
And that was that.
Not many children can grow up to actually do what this little boy had promised – and for every one that is able to, there are thousands who are handing the tin foiled Becel containers to their children, hoping to bring them the joy that every little kid dreams of as they sit in front of the TV watching the legends take the ice.
Well the final stop of the Stanley Cup Roadshow in Montreal was the basement of the colleague who told me this story where he invited friends, family and clients over for a social gathering – to trade their fondest Hockey Night in Canada stories (we are with CBC after all), remembering when they pretended to hoist Lord Stanley’s Mug into the air, just like Wayne Gretzky, Bobby Orr, Gordie Howe and the rest of them did – and here it was, right here in the basement of a home where no hockey legends (on-ice) lived – nothing but a bunch of fans, decked out in their favourite team’s jerseys with the names and numbers on the back.
Well the colleague of mine had to call his one buddy and tell him to come over because he had a surprise for him in the basement. So he agreed, grabbed the keys, asked his son if he would like to go for a ride – which he did, and off they went. They got to the house and were met by 80 pairs of shoes (they were counted) and they headed toward the basement where all the commotion was.
They got down the stairs and in the middle of the room there it was. The Stanley Cup. Drinks were flowing, people were laughing and talking – most crowded around the bar where Mike Bolt (the keeper of the cup) told another one of his famous stories – he’s got a good Chris Chelios one – but in the middle of the room…the most silent, yet speaking the loudest – was Lord Stanley.
The father and son walked over to it and as people moved away giving them both a clear shot at it, the son looked at his father and without skipping a beat said:
“Told you…”
…for everything else…there’s MasterCard.
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Celebrating Family
Today in Ontario, we are celebrating FAMILY DAY.
That’s right, a day to celebrate the people in our lives that we consider our family.
What IS Family? In my opinion, family is comprised of the person or people in our lives (including those not related by blood) who are there through thick and thin; who provide us wit h unconditional love; who challenge who we are and who we want to be; who are there to celebrate and cry. Family are those who give meaning to our lives. They inspire us, they support us, and in the end, they are the people who we would do anything for. Coaches, teammates, players, friends, parents, siblings, neighbours, coworkers, etc.
To my beautiful family-thank you for being there. Thank you for your constant support, encouragement, and those very special moments in which silence says it all. I am who I am in part because of the great influences you have in my life.
Family-what does it mean to you and how are YOU celebrating/spending your family day?
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Sunday Report on Monday
Sunday January 24th, 2010 was a BIG day.
1. The PLAYmakers had the privilege of enjoying a nice breakfast hosted by Maple Leaf Sports and Entertainment. The 7:45am call time was well worth it and was made even better when Toronto Raptors Head Coach Jay Triano joined us for Q & A and later invited the attendees to the Raptors private shoot around in preparation for last night’s game. THANK YOU Rob Cowan & the MLSE and a BIG thank you to Jay Triano.
2. Our Toronto Raptors came from behind to beat the #1 L.A. Lakers 106-105 last night at the A.C.C. The crowd was electrifying as Hedo Turkoglu step to the foul line with 1.2 seconds left and made both baskets to tie the game and then ultimately WIN the game. To the Raps: it was fun to see you boys in practice but it was that much sweeter to see you come from behind and beat the Lakers. It comes to show that ANYTHING can happen.
photo courtesy of http://www.tnttours.ca
IMPORTANT NOTE: Do you want Raptors Tickets…at a discount price? Well here’s your chance. Call Rob Cowan @ 416-815-5636 or email rcowan@mapleleafsports.com with the game of choice and say you are a friend of TO PLAY Toronto. It’s that simple and the discount tickets are yours! It’s WIN-WIN.
3. Superbowl XLIV (44 for those who are not down with Roman numbers) is set! With an overtime win against the Minnesota Vikings, the New Orleans Saints will take on Peyton Manning and the Indianapolis Colts on the ever so famous Superbowl Sunday in sunny South Beach. (As a side note: Peter, your Jets were thisclose….). Who will reign supreme? Tune into the festivities on Sunday February 7th, 2010 at 6:25pm eastern time.
photo courtesy of http://www.ccwtours.com
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