This is not the greatest time of year for a North American sports fan. Apart from March Madness, there is little to get excited about. During this weekend lull, I’ve taken some time to dive into some great pieces how franchises build their brands. Glenn Rifkin’s 1999 article in Strategy + Business Magazine is a gem. It talks about the enduring appeal of the Boston Red Sox, who at the time were eighty one years into a World Series Championship drought.
Rifkin cites a great quote from famed novelist John Updike who neatly framed a key part of the Red Sox brand proposition: "All men are mortal, and therefore all men are losers; our profoundest loyalty goes out to the fallible."
Updike wasn't writing as a marketer, but was certainly on to something. Everyone loves a winner, and whenever a team is on a hot streak, there is plenty of room on the bandwagon for fairweather fans to jump aboard. But the perennial losing team is embraced by a different kind of fan mentality -- the sucker for punishment, the type that values loyalty and commitment over the ephemeral ecstasy of championships.
Now that the Red Sox have exorcised their World Series Demons in 2004, and again in 2007, perhaps their brand has morphed into a different animal. But one club in the majors still appeals to this specific kind of self-loathing fan -- the Chicago Cubs.
When the 2010 season begins, the Chicago Cubs will play their 102nd season since winning the World Series in 1908. Yet they remain one of the strongest, most recognizable MLB team brands.
Perhaps the Cubs, similarly to the Red Sox, consistently fill the fan void that other teams are not willing to occupy. The downtrodden, unthreatening, lovable loser. To come tantalizingly close, year in, year out but to fall short is the Cubs legacy. Or as Abram Sauer puts it, the Cubs' brand is "the uncomplicated formula of hope and disappointment, and more importantly, the repetition of this cycle to the point of comfort in the routine."
Perhaps this is it. The Cubs put their fans through the wringer, teetering on the tantalizing fulcrum of ecstasy and heartbreak, yet how often do you hear of a Cubs fan switching their allegiance to the cross town White Sox? Political commentator George Will famously described Cubs fans as "ninety percent scar tissue." Why, you could reasonably ask, would anyone expose themselves to such emotional torture?
I think it's because scarcity creates value. Any bona fide Cubs fan realizes that there'd be fewer places in professional sports that would break into the throes of unbridled jubilation like the the North side of Chicago after a Cubs title. I'm a Twins fan, but I think a Cubs World Series win would warrant a trip to the Windy City.
What do you think? What is it about the Cubs Brand that makes it so powerful?




