Close your eyes for a second and visualize this (assuming you can both have your eyes closed and continue to read this): You work for the Dallas Mavericks. Your job is to think of ways - t-shirts, promotions, video and audio cues - to get the fans as excited and lathered up as you possibly can; anything that creates the best home court advantage for your boys.â†µ
You've been doing a relatively good job all year, but the playoffs have just started and like the team itself, you too need to step up your game. I mean, these fans aren't just going to incite themselves, right? So you grab two Red Bulls, retreat to your office and lock the door behind you. Nobody is coming in our out until you've thought of the perfect promotion, I don't care if its Karen's birthday and there's cake in the conference room - even funfetti is on the back burner. Family, friends, religion all thrown by the wayside; your only priority is to make the absolute best in game promotion that Mark Cuban's money can buy.â†µ
I asked you to go through that little exercise because I am trying to picture what the person who actually holds that position was thinking when they pitched this video, shown at the Mav's first playoff game this weekend:â†µ
That's DeShawn Stevenson and his neck tattoo of Abraham Lincoln, and wouldn't you believe its talking. Not just talking, imploring you the Mavs fan to make noise. I've tried to envision being the man who created and ultimately green-lighted this video a dozen times today. But no matter how hard I close my eyes and try to put myself in their shoes, I just can't dream up any situation where this is the best they could have possibly done. That image just earned a spot as my brand new recurring nightmare; good luck sleeping tonight.