Product pitches: 6 in-game moments in need of a sponsor
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It’s impossible to watch, listen to, or attend a Brewers game without finding yourself subjected to an array of in-game promotions. Each time a Milwaukee player hits a home run, his name inches up the Powerball Home Run Leaderboard. A quick trip to the mound has a suitably named convenience store sponsor behind it. Even the top of the seventh inning is a walking (or rather, running) advertisement.
Though most of these promotions have about as much to do with the actual game as Trevor Hoffman has to do with pitching right now, the dough the team receives in return for the mere price of its soul must be worth allowing local vendors to slap logos and slogans on otherwise routine in-game occurrences. Still, many perfectly marketable moments have yet to find sponsorship. And with Milwaukee mired in mid-market mediocrity, we here at The A.V. Club thought we’d take the liberty of pairing Brewers in-game moments with suitable sponsors in hopes of increasing club revenue, while driving the final stake into the heart of baseball purity.
The Famous Dave’s Rick Peterson Shoulder Touch
With the troubled pitching staff all but ensured to require numerous visits from Milwaukee’s handsy pitching coach each game, why not get the Hayward, Wisconsin-based rib chain under contract to throw some money in Mark Attanasio’s coffers each time the frizz-mulletted coach gives an underperforming shoulder a semi-sensuous grab? The new scoreboard would be paid for in full after just one homestand.
The Culver’s Awkward Davey Nelson Mid-Sentence Pause
In fashioning a position in the Fox Sports Wisconsin broadcast booth for him, and allowing him to fill in for the legendary Bob Uecker on the radio, it’s obvious that the Brewers organization loves Dave Nelson to no end. But it’s even more obvious that Nelly’s expertise lies in playing and coaching baseball, not analyzing it for fans to hear. Our promo proposal: With each seemingly endless helping of dead air Nelson treats fans to, Butter Burgers are half off the following day. And you thought George Webb’s burger promotion was a great deal. (It’s not.)
American Heart Institute HBP
Brewers hitters are plunked by far and away more pitches than any other team in baseball. Brewers fans ingest far and away more bratwursts and drink more beer than any other fans in baseball. Coincidentally, the acronym “HBP” stands for both "hit by pitch" and "high blood pressure." What better reminder of the human body’s frailty than watching a prime athletic specimen like Rickie Weeks limp 90 feet? Suddenly that fourth chorizo doesn’t taste so good.
The Vagi-Gard Medicated Disposable Douche Starting The Wave
There’s always some shitfaced assclown in the stands who tries to start the wave that (we wish) would end all waves. More often than not, this takes place during the pivotal moments of a close game or, more often of late, when Milwaukee is trailing by eight runs and the impending defeat is just beginning to set in. In moments like these, doesn’t one medicated disposable douche deserve another?
The Digger’s Hotline Thing Being Driven Into The Ground
While Brian Anderson and Bill Schroeder are driving some dull point into the ground, Digger’s Hotline should let people know that its available when fans are ready to do the same in their yards. This promotion would be perfect for lengthy conversations about John Axford’s moustache, Alcides Escobar and Carlos Gomez acting like kids and that being refreshing to see, Trevor Hoffman’s status as a first ballot Hall of Famer, Anderson’s semi-pro baseball career, Rock’s (mostly shitty) pro baseball career, details of the city from which the Tavern Of The Game winner hails, and Ken Macha.
The 5-hour Energy Shot Ken Macha Post-Game Press Conference
Watching Macha cross his legs and yawn through all nine frames or bumble through his mandatory post-game talk brings to mind the human embodiment of “that 2:30 feeling.” Would anyone honestly be surprised if the skipper ended up being a rudimentary machine with a series of wires and pulleys operated by an old midget?