Jeff Pearlman

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The Worst Sports Commercial of the Year

I love a good sports-related commercial.

My favorites? Certainly this one …

And this one …

And this one, too …

All that being said, over the past month I’ve been subjected to what I consider to be one of the all-time, all-time, all-time worst athlete-involved commercials. It’s this tragedy, starring Drew Brees and the five geeks from One Direction.

Let me count the ways …

1. Why do athletes do soda commercials? I love soda. Really, really love it. But it’s friggin’ battery acid to your innards. I suppose it’s possible Brees drinks Pepsi, oh, once a week or so. But is he truly a fan? No way.

2. One Direction and Drew Brees are on the set of “The Next Night Show.” Which means: A. A writer was paid real money to think up the concept—two entities from different worlds, meeting backstage somewhere; a real writer decided upon “The Next Night Show.”

3. It’s a late-night show green room, and there’s only one soda? What? Your guests are the five guys from One Direction  and one of the NFL’s biggest stars, and the 22-year-old intern (Jenni with an I and a heart as a dot) didn’t make sure there was suitable grub? C’mon.

4. Imagine if Drew Brees, in real life, actually said to anyone, “Come on, kid, I’m Drew Brees” …

5. Actually, “And I’m Harry” is a fair response. As in, “Who gives a fuck that you’re Drew Brees? I’ve never even heard of you.”

6. What in God’s name is with this kid’s hair?

7. My daughter is 9. She digs One Direction. Not insane about them, but enjoys them, and reads BOP! to learn more. She’s probably the average age of the group’s fan. Give or take a year or two. Look closely—these cheering females are, like, 18. Right now they’re in a college dorm, getting stoned to Steve Miller.

8. This is the one that does it for me. I could understand a bunch of Saints fans going wild for Brees in the green room. But what the hell’s with the assorted collection of hats and T-shirts? I’m betting $100 the director of this commercial is British and said, “Cripes, just get me a bunch of colorful stuff.” I am a lifelong Jets fan. I know many of the same ilk. If a Jet fan is that close to Drew Brees, he’s hitting him with a 2×4 while gouging out his eyeballs and screaming, “We drafted Sanata Moss instead of you! Sanata friggin’ Moss!!?!?!?!!?!?”

9. What confuses me most is the end. “Hey man, give me the Pepsi and I’ll get you a tryout …”

So they get a tryout, and the members of One Direction are all wearing the uniforms my mom used to buy me at Caldor for Halloween. I mean, look closely. They’re thin, dorky, and the shoulder pads look like a bunch of T-shirts tucked over the arms. I know this shit doesn’t matter, but if you’re unloading a couple of hundred thou to get six big-profile dudes, why not splurge?

OK, I’m done.

  • eastside eddie

    Even better…. Drew Brees can offer dork kids tryouts now? Wonder what the bounty is on him?

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Once again, Jeff Pearlman has produced an exhaustively researched, elegantly written book that re-creates one of the most colorful and memorable teams of the modern era. No basketball fan's bookshelf will be complete without it.

— Seth Davis, author of Wooden: A Coach's Life