Anyone requiring a reminder of the close link between Canadian cultural identity, hockey and advertising need look no further than the 2002 Winter Olympics.
Canadians young and old, tall and small came out from their apartments, houses and sinkholes to watch a gold medal game Feb. 24 between Canada’s men’s hockey team and the U.S.
All told, one-third of the nation tuned in according to the CBC. That is 10 million English- and French-Canadians – a figure that fails to account for those of us who watched from a bar stool at the local pub.
It is difficult to imagine any other single event captivating such a significant portion of the population.
But just what is at the root of this passionate response?
It was not so long ago that a popular debate around the kitchen table was on the question of how to define Canadian culture. While hockey was always a popular player in that debate, it is only more recently that its cultural dominance became a fait accompli. So what happened?
Well, and this may be simplifying the reality a bit, one of the things that happened is advertising.
Some advertisers have known how to target the rabid hockey fan for a long time. Esso, McDonald’s Restaurants and Canada’s major brewers have long skated in this arena. But over the last decade brands such as Nike, Cheerios, General Motors and Chunky Soup have stepped up to reinforce hockey’s central role in Canadian culture.
It was a slow build that culminated in these Olympics. Advertisers including Coke, Molson, Labatt, Bell Canada and McDonald’s all produced spots with a hockey theme. Such widespread tribute to the sport is unprecedented.
‘I would say there’s more this year than ever before,’ says Frank Palmer, chairman of Palmer Jarvis DDB. ‘It’s got to be about 30% higher. It seems that everybody I saw on television, and in some cases print, had jumped right onto the bandwagon.’
Such moves should come as no surprise, Palmer says. After all, good marketing mirrors society. For a brand wanting to associate itself with the emotional and inspirational values of the Winter Games, tying a message to hockey is a gimme.
But at the same time, when an ad is powerful enough, society takes its cues from advertising. And so the cycle goes.
Canadians took a certain pride in the Rant of Molson’s Joe Canadian a few years back. And while the spot played on the citizenry’s latent sense of nationalism, it also opened the door for much flag-waving in the months that followed.
Similarly, when Coke broke its ‘He Shoots; He Scores’ spot in the weeks leading up to the 2002 Games the stage was set for a hockey-mad nation to pick up where Joe left off. We were reminded well in advance of the excitement that awaited us should Canada’s men’s and women’s hockey teams make it to a gold-medal game. Scores of people who normally couldn’t care less about slap shots or offsides or Eric Lindros’ concussion count, were drawn in. Those looking for a symbol of pure Canadiana, looking for an excuse to pound their chest or fly the Maple Leaf could find that outlet in these Winter Games.
And advertising – like the good propaganda machine that it can be – was right there at centre ice.