Ocular Fusion

A while back in my post Hey Nike, I'm Your Man!, I made the case that large megacorporations such as the Winged Goddess of Victory should take a look at "Average Joes" (such as yours truly) instead of professional athletes when it comes to endorsements and ad campaigns. What better way to connect with the Common Man or Woman than to feature one of their own, struggling to balance their mundane, workaday duties with the ongoing obligation to fitness and athletic achievement?

Well, Nike still hasn't called me to endorse the Air Max 360, but apparently somebody's been reading my blog! USA Today reports this morning on the growing trend among corporations to seek out the input of average consumers in their ad campaigns, even to the point of featuring actual commercials created by Average Joes and Janes. And here's the kicker: they're paying people, sometimes as much as $10,000, if their ads are chosen!

So where do I go from here? Well, certainly my original idea of a middle-age jogger such as myself beating a Cold War Era Soviet Olympian in a foot race while my friends and neighbors cheer me on and shout "USA, USA" is one that has, well, legs. But my recent one-on-one "Duke vs. UConn" basketball grudge match with Number Three Son at the local Y has given birth to another idea that will no doubt be a slam dunk.

Picture this: a graying man with a receding hairline and the earliest signs of middle-age paunch is wearing a Duke ACC Championship Locker Room Tee (the only championship tee that he will purchasing this year, by the way) as he takes the court against a lean and mean 13-year-old wearing a UConn practice jersey. For the first few minutes, the 13-year-old eats his Old Man's lunch, leading the aging weekend warrior to call a timeout, even though everyone knows there aren't supposed to be any timeouts in one-on-one.

While taking a couple of hits off his inhaler and a draw or two from his oxygen tank, the Dookie wannabe looks up and notices Michael Jordan, who is in town for a benefit golf tournament and poker match, looking on in omniscient bemusement. He just happens to have the latest version of the Air Jordan MDCXVIII in a size 9.5 on his person and tosses them to the sweating, heaving hoary hoopster.

With the 13-year-old taunting his father mercilessly, the momentum of the game suddenly shifts. The Old Man is now throwing down reverse 360 jams, rainbow treys, and short fade away jumpers as the stunned son looks on helplessly. On defense, he is no less a terror as he makes his bulky presence felt in the paint and cloud dances above the rim, packing shot after shot. The Old Man then launches his wide body from the free throw line and rises like a Saturn rocket, finishing off the young Huskie rep with the business end of a rim-rattling tomahawk dunk--just like Dick Vitale in those pizza commercials.

If that doesn't get Nike's attention, nothing will. Hey Nike, I'm telling you again--Average Joes are cool!