Marketing lesson: The art of entertainment

Will Klitschko Always Be The Chessmaster?
By Michael Woods

It was 4 AM on Saturday evening. It was actually Sunday morning, technically, but for Wladimir Klitschko it was Saturday night still. He was still up, still wound up, still wounded from hearing the boos at Madison Square Garden.

The true nature of his performance had set in, and the Ukrainian was none too pleased. He reached out to trainer Emanuel Steward, who had firmly exhorted him before the twelfth and final round of his consolidation fight to close the show, put a firm stamp on the evening, make up for the long pockets of inaction with a fiery climax.

I’m disappointed in myself, he told Manny. I should have pressed Sultan more, should have leapt on him more often, and not been so respectful of his counterpunching abilities. I’m sorry, Wlad said in so many words to his trainer and confidante.

Wladimir is a chess player, a cerebral—-maybe a tad too cerebral for a sport that often rewards split second reactions, over overlong contemplation–man who will wait with the patience of a cat to pounce. Problem is, a boxer, if he wants to make money, and put butts in seats, needs to know he is an entertainer. Throwing 29 punches a round, and spending the vast bulk of each round sizing up your foe, and waiting for that perfect opening, does not constitute entertainment for most of us. This is why you don’t have a flourishing pro chess league.

Here is the full story.