Wanna buy some?

The ups and downs of celebrity endorsement

Signy Holmes Staff

There are some professions that are well-respected by the average person, like a doctor or a firefighter. At the same time, there are some ways of earning a steady paycheque that unite us in looking smugly down our noses. We love to sneer at CEOs of big companies and grumble about politicians. But if there’s one group of people that it’s socially acceptable to mock and disparage, it’s the celebrity endorsers.

That’s right — boo to Wayne and his McDonalds deal! He doesn’t need the money! And shame on Shaq for pimping out the Icy Hot Sleeve and Back Patch. What a greedy sell-out.

Ironically, the more famous someone already is, the more promotional deals they seem to be able to pick up. The rich and annoying get even richer and assault you visually and verbally at every corner — here comes Paris Hilton’s new perfume!

But lets remember that being a spokesperson wasn’t always that way, and even today there’s a time and a place for being a celebrity endorser that, just maybe, we can all respect.

The man, the legend

And if we’re going to talk about respect, just one name should shine above the rest. No, not Chuck Norris — George Foreman.

Mr. George Edward Foreman, former Heavyweight Champion of the world, Olympic gold medallist and lean, mean, promotional machine. Foreman may be a boxing legend, but more to the point, he promotes a fine range of grills. In fact, that’s how most of us know him. Shilling grills is no side gig for pocket money for Foreman, who has by some accounts profited over $150 million from sales of the grills that bear his name — far more than he ever made as a boxer.

So why isn’t Foreman the enemy? He was already doing fine for himself, so should anyone respect him for selling out when we spit on others who do the same? Well, it may not be fair, but Foreman has two things going for him: he’s deliciously eccentric, and he stays out of our faces.

The second point is crucial. As a society we are notoriously fickle. One minute Michael Moore is our darling little liberal radical, the next he’s an annoying troll. The magazines all think that new movie star is just so honest and down to earth, and then next issue’s cover has a picture of him doing cocaine — with a woman who isn’t his wife!

By keeping himself for the most part in the shadowy realm of the infomercial, Foreman has avoided overexposure while still managing to seep insidiously into our brains.

The other factor saving Foreman from ill will is the sheer strangeness he wears around himself like a cape: who could hate a man with five sons, all named George Edward Foreman?

He says on his official website that he was “really close to naming all the girls George as well, but . . . decided that might have been overkill.”

He is also an ordained Christian minister.

Foreman has found a way to make you forget about all that and focus on the “Next Grilleration” contact grill or check out his “Comfort Zone” line of Big & Tall clothing. That is why, amid all the wannabes, George Foreman will always be the archetypal spokesperson.

Unfortunately, for every Foreman there is a Pope Leo. Well, strictly speaking that’s not true: there have been 13 Pope Leos, compared to only six George Edward Foremans, but give it time and we’ll see.

No, there is a particular Pope Leo to consider, and that is Pope Leo XIII. His relative merits as Pope aside, he made in the late 19th century what would be thought of as a major faux pas today, bestowing his papal endorsement on Mariani Wine, a cocaine-laced tonic, lending his image to posters endorsing it and reportedly carrying a hip flask of the stuff around with him.

In retrospect, however, Pope Leo XIII barely merits a metaphorical slap on the wrist — after all, if it says tonic in the name, it must be good for you — and at least he really believed in and supported the product. Besides, this was when endorsements as we know them were just starting out, so he really couldn’t have known what he had started. As far as no-no’s go, this one gets a pass.

The Great One drives a Ford

Not every celebrity endorser has been so forgivable. It hurts to kick a one-legged puppy, but can anyone actually imagine Wayne Greztky hopping into his simple, “everyman” Ford and popping over to McDonald’s to give the wife a night out of the kitchen by bringing home the Big Macs?

Forbes magazine estimated that Gretzky earned $93.8 million from hockey and endorsements for everything from Hallmark Cards to Campbell’s Soup, from 1990 to 1998 alone. Does anyone need that much money? Maybe Donald Trump, whose house is made of gold and whose money is made of housing.

Contrast Gretzky with Guy Lafleur, who just wants you to recycle your batteries in public service announcements, eh, and you wonder if it is all worth it.

When today’s children grow up and tell their children about Gretzky, will they tell them about the time number 99 scored five goals in a game, or the time they saw five of his ads in a row during a single commercial break?

Fleeting fame

Perhaps the worst of it is that Gretzky might be taking prime jobs away from athletes who could really use the endorsement dollars.

Take Jennifer Heil. Remember that thrilling moment when she captured the first gold medal for Canada in Turin? That was surely a defining — what do you mean you’ve forgotten the Olympians’ names already?

It seems like most of us only care about the Olympics during the Olympics, which can be a problem for athletes who don’t have an NHL to go back to. Supporting themselves and paying for training during their four-year break can be a daunting challenge.

For those ‘other,’ amateur athletes, endorsing products is probably the most enticing of their very scarce options. That’s probably why no one was complaining about maintaining the purity of the sport when it was announced that Cindy Klassen landed a lucrative endorsement deal with MTS.

To work for four years with little reward — and, in many cases, financial cost rather than financial reward — just for two weeks of glory is one thing. To get insufficient financial support from your country when you earn the gold medal? Yeah, that’s going to sting a little. To have everybody forget about you two weeks after everything’s over? Well, that’s probably getting to be a bit much.

That’s why it’s a great thing for athletes like Klassen to be able to land long-term deals. Not only is the money going to go to good use, it could help athletes keep themselves and, by extension, their sports, in the spotlight.

After all, advertisers aren’t likely to be swayed by the argument “that annoys me,” and take celebrity endorsers off the air for good. So if we have to hear, honestly and sincerely, that Hamburger Helper is both delicious and easy, would you rather have the person being paid to do so be an outstanding women’s hockey player or a washed-up pop star who wants to buy some more Botox?

And no, George Foreman is not an option.