What Ronnie woo-woo can teach us about branding

At the Cubs game the other night, there was a  vendor who used mystical powers to get people to pay five bucks for a bag of peanuts. 

I know this because in a sea of “Beer Here!” and “Hot Dogs!” cutting through the calm night’s air, this vendor barely said a word.  When she did, you could see her lips form the words “peanuts,” but almost no sound came out.

She was no younger than 70 and no taller than five feet; her ID tag read “Ho Pun.”  Her face was weathered as if she’d spent 50 summers at Wrigley Field but I’d never seen her before.

She would walk halfway down the aisle and hold up a bag of peanuts and stare at someone until the person bought a bag of peanuts in hopes of basking in her otherworldly glow, or looked away in fear of being given an underworldly curse.

I don’t think she sold a ton of peanuts, but there was a weird aura about her that made me think that she cared less about her final tally and more about her purpose.

Speaking of which, Ronnie Woo-woo was also there, walking the aisles, dancing, smiling, taking pictures.  But not woo-wooing.  Not a sound came from his mouth.

Has he woo-woo'ed so much that he's damaged his vocal chords?  Is he out of woo’s? 

Or did he find some meditative place that told him not to speak, only to radiate.  Send out positive vibes and assume they’ll return.  It certainly didn’t affect the number of people who wanted to hug and dance and take pictures with him.

There are a couple of lessons in Ho Pun and Ronnie Woo-woo’s approaches.  One,  there are many different ways to differentiate your brand, and being loud doesn’t always have to be one of them. 

And two, sometimes worrying about the end result gets in the way more than you might think.  Think about what you’re doing and how you do it, not where it’s going to end up.   And somewhere in there, smile or dance.  Or look someone in the eye with the most direct intention you can muster.  You never know what they’ll give you.

A perfect confluence = New Beginnings

Two reasons why Spring is my favorite time of year: Baseball and Passover.

(For the non-Jews in the room, substitute Easter for Passover. Same idea).

They both represent the same things:

Renewal.

Regeneration.

For Christians, because it involves the rising of Christ, it’s literally about rebirth.

For Cubs fans, because it involves the rising of Theo Epstein, it’s literally about rebirth.

(And the chances for a miracle are about equal for either.)

Passover/Easter and baseball mean green grass, spring air, the olfactory essence of fresh starts.

Hot Cross Buns, Maror and Matzah, and shelled, salty peanuts. The flavor of potential beginnings.

Can you smell it? Can you taste it?

Hope springs most eternally in the Spring.

Passover is here. Easter is here. Baseball is here. All starting at the same time this year. A magical perfect confluence.

Think about your new beginnings. What you might take up that you’ve been meaning to do.

Pluck that hanging chad of a to-do at the bottom of your list. Go out to a sunny spot, bless it with some of your best thinking, and give it the chance of a new beginning.

Get all Theo Epstein on it and see what happens.

Just remember, Spring planting takes time to grow.

Just ask Theo.

The one thing every brand has to do every day.

Create Belief.

Chipotle fans have it.

Apple fans have it.

Obama supporters had it in 2008.

Cubs/Packers/Red Wings/etc fans have it.

All great brands have it. It’s the single solitary most powerful reason why people are brand loyal.

And when you have it, you have gold.

Belief why the most loyal supporters are called fans.

Short, of course, for fanatics.

It comes from great service, product design, taste, philosophy. A series of experiences that a person has with a brand that embeds in that person an unwavering belief bordering on love.

That love is so deep, brands could probably slack for a while and still maintain it. But they won that love by never slacking. So it’ll never happen.

Belief is the rock solid foundation of community. It’s as true for every modern religion as it is for Harley Davidson and Four Seasons Hotels.

How do you earn belief? Stay tuned.

Beefy Fan-Antics

How is fan-dom formed? So many ways.

Some people pass it down in the genes.

Some marry into it.

Some find it along the way.

For any brand with true fans, there’s no one way. My grandpa made me a baseball fan, but he rooted for the Cubs and Sox, and I gravitated to the North side. My son got it from me. I have a nephew who got it by living in Wrigleyville, but we’re all diehard Cubs fans.

Many many many of those diehard Cubs fans gathered over the weekend at the annual Cubs Convention. A larger group of more optimistic yet skeptical fans, you’ll never find.

It was reported in various media sources, cynically by the Chicago Sun-Times, analytically by the New York Times, and respectfully by WGN. None of that was surprising.

These fanatics make me think of another group of fanatics: Chipotle lovers.

Chipotle has done a phenomenal job of creating a brand with a distinct POV and personality, which, combined with good quality, inexpensive food, has created a loyal gathering and, dare I say, a community. Check out the pictures on their Fan-Antics page.

You’ll see pictures of babies in Chipotle gear, brides and grooms feasting on burritos, and those from the elderly set as well. All indications, if you follow the sports model, that Chipotle has truly created a community of loyal devotees.

Somebody tell Theo. Maybe be can get them to sponsor the new scoreboard.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year

This is (by far) my favorite time of year. My favorite things happen right around now: Baseball gets started (the teams I coach in my community, and the ones I watch on TV). Passover, my favorite holiday, hits right about now, and needless to say, as I write this to the hum of dueling leafblowers and lawnmowers outside my window, brown turns to green and snow shovels get replaced by deck chairs and the air just smells damn good.

There’s a reason “Hope Springs Eternal” has been appearing on T-shirts and bumper stickers and various media since Alexander Pope’s 1733 poem “An Essay on Man.” And it’s not just because it’s a great first line for a Haiku.

We all want to have Hope, whether it's for something better or tastier or easier or fluffier. It's human nature and without it we'd be lifeless, uninteresting lumps. Thing is, Hope seldom actively comes to us. Which is why Spring is so awesome.

It not only represents regeneration and recognizes the circle of life, it gives a nod to rebirth, as anyone who’s ever celebrated Easter or Passover can attest. I’m sure many of you seder-celebrators ate eggs last night, and I’m assuming you talked about all of the various significant explanations related to New Life. And coming from a Cubs fan, believe me, this is greatly appreciated every March.

Spring is the official season of Re. So rejuvenate, resuscitate, revitalize and revisit. Use this time of year to recharge your engines, take a step back from a daily challenge, and look at it a little differently. Try some collaboration while you're at it. Can't hurt.

Twist things up a little bit, and Hope will come to you.