Celebrity Athletes: Could the Marketing Game Be Played Out?

Celebrity athletes had better watch out. Marketers who have used these celebrities as sponsors are trying to figure out what to do. It's thumbs down for the sorry-asses like Manny Ramirez who can sell all the wigs they want to but won't make it in the big-bucks world of selling out!

Over the past few years, an unsettling number of athletes who we had elevated to "hero" status found themselves in unflattering situations. The Atlanta Falcons' Vick went to the dogs. San Francisco Giants' Bonds set the all-time home run record just before he was hit over the head with steroid and lying-about-it charges. Tour de France competitors were accused of doping-- and one was found guilty and then loudly stripped of his title.

Vick's story is crucial to my point. Before he went to the dogs, he was a character on- and offstage and had deals with three major brands estimated to be worth $7 million annually. Nike's was the biggest. Vick also had a deal with Upper Deck, which pulled his memorabilia and cards from its site.

Nike was not about to do him.

Vick, like O.J. before him, may now never be seen as more than an abuser, even after playing nice with PETA. It reminds me of Mike Tyson, who did all those Diet Pepsi ads with his ex-wife, Robin Givens, before going to prison for rape and then chewing on Holyfield's ear.

Yet there's a lot of money at stake here. Sick money. According to Promo magazine, the overall sports sponsorship market was projected to hit at least $9.9 billion that year (which is why they called), a fairly not unimpressive 10.8 percent jump over 2006.

After MasterCard stopped even thinking about sponsoring Bonds in 2006 (the ink hadn't dried on the agreement), the amped slugger reportedly made $2 million in endorsement fees on top of his $15.8 million salary. Back in 2001, he spawned major short-term deals with KFC and discount brokerage Charles Schwab. But since 1999, he's made only two long-term, enduring, big bucks endorsements--for Fila's spikes and Franklin Sports' batting gloves.

Several chastened athletes have managed to keep their sponsorship deals and recoup their public images in recent years--but these are rare and risky. Nike stood by Laker Kobe Bryant after he was accused of rape, but Coke did not.

There are so many examples these days that it would take many pages to list them all, so instead I want to concentrate on people like Jason Giambi, one man who was caught up in this unending calamity involving steroids. In the past, he was doing a lot of product pitches, but now no one will touch him. In December 2004, the San Francisco Chronicle reported that it had seen Giambi's 2003 grand jury testimony in the BALCO investigation.

The paper said that in his testimony, Giambi admitted to using several different steroids during the off-seasons from 2001 to 2003, and injecting himself with human growth hormone during the '03 season. Giambi apologized publicly to the media and his fans, although he did not specifically state what for. That may have been his downfall: he did not really come clean, and to this day he's a pariah. The fans hate him, (although considerably less now than after 2003) so you know the advertisers do too.

Now I'm forced to discuss golfer John Daly, who was "abandoned" (his word) by sponsors and tournament organizers after he admitted that he was a chronic gambler. Then again, his anger management problem probably didn't help much. Daly claimed he lost between $50 and $100 million during his 12-year gambling run, then took control of his life.

He has yet to regain a golf career and his sponsors aren't returning his emails.

"The guy who had the incident with the bat" was uber-slugger Sammy Sosa, who somehow made it through, keeping most of his $4 million endorsements from ConAgra and Pepsi, among a few others. Chicago Cubs outfielder Sosa first got tarnished amid allegations of his use of performance-enhancing drugs (denied), then was undercut when umpires inspecting a bat he broke found that it was plugged with cork, an illegal means of lightening bats and speeding up swings. Sosa claimed that he used the bat accidentally, and x-rays of all his other bats checked out. This lack of proof allowed Sosa to emerge okay, but he's still not on top of any list.

On-performance performance (sic) is the only thing that will let these guys get away with all that bad behavior. The bad character will go away with good play. However, follow the money. While the swing of the bat or the club impresses the purist fan, companies want the super-exciting, no-holds-barred superstar who spawns his own off-field hype. They want people skills--but they want good playing first.

Recall how Dennis "Crazy Hair" Rodman played with unbounded intensity on and off the basketball court. He was always his public with a nutty love life that kept the tabloids tailing him, but he also had a mean layup. Today he's still being sued for a bunch of offenses; not sure what he hopes to get out of the publicity since he has no offers to suit up for products. Let's hope he squirreled away some cash.

Being famous means being memorable, never forget. Big corporations want characters. Buzz is about who talks about whom. That will never change. With that, I bring you Becks.

The phenom that is (was?) David Beckham bends sponsors' ears because of glitz --his wife, his look, his whole façade is glitzy. How he plays has somehow been secondary. He moved to America in 2007, launched a "scent," and toyed with playing half a gay couple on Desperate Housewives. (His "mate" was scheduled to be soft singer Robbie Williams, who also opted against this careerdefining coupledom!) But he has yet to procure major corporate riches in his new country--until today when Motorola has hired him to help them bring sexy back to phones. He does well to keep his celebrity profile up. And he would do better if he played some really good ball.

But the question remains: how much game does this guy still have, since no one can sustain a career on glitz alone--think Paris Hilton [will go away]? Should Beckham sit benched for another season, he will become the next Who Again? in sports. He'd better do superbly on the field or he will become the sporting world's biggest flameout, as his $250 million price tag affirms.

Alas, not one sponsor will touch that game, no matter how much character left in him.

Twitter @Laermer