At the start of the NRL season I wonder what odds we would have had that a mere 11 weeks of Tom Waterhouse would be all it took to have the PM herself intervene and demand the banning of live odds during broadcasts?
There are also restrictions being ‘voluntarily’ placed on what a gambling company representative can tell the cameras during breaks in play. Don’t worry sports fans, ‘generic material’ is still allowed.
As this article on Crikey points out, the whole issue has been a ticking time bomb from the minute Waterhouse strolled onto our screens and took a seat in the Channel 9 broadcast box.
Plenty has been written about the big-money incursion of gambling companies into our beloved sports. I’m not going to add another column inch to those concerns because I find it very easy to resist the siren song of sports gambling. This is mainly because I couldn’t correctly tip whether the sun will rise tomorrow, so I keep my wallet in my pocket.
But the time has come to poke a bit of fun at the usual ham-fisted handling of all things sport by Channel 9, plus the geniuses Tom paid for marketing advice.
There is a lot to dislike about Tom and the industry he represents. However, the Tom I know – the Tom who knows what punters want but seemingly not much else – is a construct, an image, a literal walking advertisement.
Tom and his advisers decided the best way to spruik betting to the typical Australian was to incessantly stuff a rich, milk-toast nancy-boy down their throats during the broadcast of the toughest, hardest sport on the planet and they’ve sowed the seeds of discontent.
Previously, punters were at worst bemused by the appearance of a fairly good sort (Jaaaaamie Rogers) or an orc (Munsie) doing the same thing on behalf of a fairly inoffensive organisation.
I say inoffensive because even though they sell the exact same product as Tom, the image they projected was of a low-rent organisation that just wants to join you, the punter, in having a little fun while watching the game.
Contrast this with the Waterhouse approach which to me screamed, “Yeah, I’m already rich and I decided I’d like some more of your money. Here’s how you can give it to me…”
During the new generation ads, Tom’s people decided he’d best be seen pretending to stroll through sporting events reminding potential customers he’s never played anything beyond conkers at school.
He’s also seen pretending to whirl around in a sweatless frenzy, dictating “the action” to a cast of actors in some kind of betting bunker.
This is meant to imply that if Tom slips up for a second, you the punter could take the whole Waterhouse empire down.
Before you can say “I know what punters want” it’ll be you snapped streaking shirtless and pasty down a beach in Italy while your impossibly beautiful wife looks on, admiring your bulging pockets.
It’s really nothing personal with Tom but the fact is someone decided his face should be the main marketing tool of his company. It’s just not the right face to do it with.
Sports fans want to reach into their screens and give that smug smirk a little slap, then another, then another.
Previously, the potential punter could dismiss Munsie as a publican with a new TAB machine installed and Rogers as a good looking but obvious piece of bait.
Tom just invokes either irritated rage or lightning reflexes with the TV remote.
Channel 9 and Tom have jointly fouled their own nest. They apparently decided that $10 million per year equals Waterhouse never leaving the viewer alone to mull over the action on the field as opposed to the action off it.
Tom claims to know what punters want and his success would suggest this is true.
However, he is now finding out the hard way what non-punters want: much less of his face on their TV screens.
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