Cue up the sappy music. …
Gehrig’s farewell speech? Selfless.
Robinson’s rookie year? Fearless.
Fisk’s game winner? Timeless.
A credit card company’s attempt to spike their account numbers by stroking the egos of baseball fans? Shameless.
Mastercard is trying to slap their logo on a piece of American history by sponsoring the “Most Memorable Moments” sweepstakes, in which fans are encouraged to submit their vote for the greatest baseball moments, and the results will be revealed during the World Series.
It is nice to know that no matter where we go, no matter what we do, to corporate America, we are always in a target demographic.
The time was it could never be more insulting as a baseball fan than to watch Bud Selig and his cronies drag the game’s reputation through the mud. Now, a new sinister force has emerged. One that has the audacity to put a price tag on memories through an inane competition. It is a worthless, shallow ploy to get fans thinking that Mastercard is the “baseball” credit card.
This whole scheme should fall flat on its face, and certainly right in our own backyard. The majority of baseball fans on this campus are fans of one of three teams: The Tigers, Indians and Reds. I’ll let you in on a little secret: Mastercard doesn’t care about you. There aren’t enough of you to justify caring.
Look at the commercials. Who does Mastercard suck up to? New Yorkers (Gehrig), Bostonians (Fisk), and African-Americans (Robinson and Hank Aaron).
Populous geography and racial identifcation. It is a calculated approach that has very little to do with baseball, and uses people’s perceptions of the game’s history to make money.
If your greatest baseball moment is Pete Rose’s 4,192nd hit, or Detroit’s 35-5 start in 1984, or Cleveland’s rally from a 12-run defecit last year, well, screw you. Mastercard doesn’t give a rat’s posterior. Those moments don’t open credit card accounts.
If the sycophantic pandering wasn’t enough, the nature of the contest is asinine. Rating the greatest hitters or pitchers is one thing. Those are statistical comparisons. Rating the greatest moments is totally different. What makes each great moment great is the fact it is special. Nobody had hit 715 home runs prior to Aaron. Nobody had hit 70 in a season prior to McGwire. Nobody had made a catch in the World Series like Willie Mays did in 1954.
Their unique standing is what made them memorable, and to rate them takes away from that. Nobody rates the greatest paintings or classical music pieces of all time. They are allowed to stand on the mertis of their own greatness and be unique. That’s something Mastercard, in their rush to appeal to the masses, isn’t sensitive to. The greatest plays in baseball history are caught in a hard place. They should be treated like art, but they are marketable art. And big business can’t keep their mitts off if they know there’s money to be made.
The greatest moments in baseball history are, indeed, priceless. But not just because Mastercard says so.
