They’d better be. By the time the Olympics begin in Atlanta this summer, the high rollers of the corporate world will have anted up more than $1 billion to link their names and products to the Olympic Games. There are 10 Worldwide Sponsors, 10 Centennial Olympic Partners, about 20 regular Sponsors and more than a hundred licensees. The Atlanta Games will beast an “official” scouring pad and timepiece, two official game shows– “Jeopardy!” and “Wheel of Fortune”–and three official vehicles: a family car, an import mini-van and a luxury sedan for Olympic pooh-bahs. “The Games are the ultimate global event-sponsorship opportunity,” says Scot Smythe, a vice president at Visa, official payment system of the Olympics since 1986.
But what exactly do these companies reap for their huge investments? At the very least, they command tickets to the most popular events, invitations to the best parties–often thrown by their fellow sponsors–and prime hotel rooms in the Atlanta area. Also, they get a team of Olympic organizers that knows what it means to shill for its sponsors. Atlanta Games chief Billy Payne himself presided over the unwrapping of a 1,996-foot winner in the Georgia Dome to celebrate a $20 million deal with Sara Lee Meats. (Too bad there isn’t an official mustard.) But most of all, says Jim Wade of the U.S. Postal Service, an Olympic sponsor from 1990 until 1992, “you’re purchasing the right to spend money.”
And the right to spend money is expensive. The biggest backers, Olympic sponsors like Anheuser-Busch, Coca-Cola, McDonald’s and Xerox, commit up to $40 million. But, says Anheuser-Busch’s Tony Ponturo, “getting the tights to the Olympic rings is only half the battle. The other haft is the challenge to sort of wrap your beer brands around that image.” Often that means television time. And at roughly $400,000 per 30-second spot, some of the biggest sponsors have already locked up every commercial slot in their product categories that NBC has to sell.
The sponsors want to bask in the reflected glory of the Olympic torch. David Green, a senior vice president at McDonald’s, says sponsorship is a matter of image: “When you’re talking about Olympics, you’re talking about leadership and family values.” John Hancock, the insurance giant, thinks the five-ring symbol is more valuable than the intangible symbols of its rivals: Prudential’s rock or MetLife’s Snoopy. “In an industry with a fair amount of scandal and shakeout, we’re looking for market insulation,” says executive vice president David D’Alessandro. And as Jim Paxton discovered, you don’t have to be an insurance salesman to know that a tumbling clinic is a nicer place to make a contact than being at the business end of a cold call. Already, Hancock has sponsored 350 “grass roots” Olympic events. For companies that aren’t global household names, Atlanta is an opportunity to become one. NationsBank, the Charlotte, N.C., financial giant, will provide banking services ranging from five-language ATM machines to safe-deposit boxes for medals, all in the hope of becoming the Michael Johnson of Olympic banking.
Not everyone is convinced that the Games are worth the price of corporate admission. Mohanbir Sawhney, a marketing professor at Northwestern University’s Kellogg Graduate School of Management, says it’s hard to measure bang-for-the-buck in sponsorship deals, and “if yon can’t measure it, you can’t manage it.” But he admits if such deals do work, they work best for companies like McDonald’s, which essentially is selling one product and a single image. 3M, with its 60,000 products, reached the same conclusion in 1992 when it quit as a sponsor. “You don’t eat at 3M, you don’t drink 3M; it was much more subtle,” says company spokesperson Mary Auvin. “It wasn’t a perfect fit for every product.” Some major 3M product lines, such as health-care devices, were a particularly bad fit. Heart-lung machines don’t have a prominent place in the Olympic pantheon. And $40 million buys a lot of ad space in small trade journals.
The biggest and most conspicuous nay-sayer is Nike. Corporate spokesman Tom Feuer dismisses the Olympic deals as “exorbitant sums so you can go to nice cocktail parties and schmooze.” Besides, “if I’m Joe Q. Public and I see a Reebok official who may not be in the best shape firing the starting pistol and Carl Lewis wearing Nike shoes, I’m going to go with Carl because that’s the authentic link.” Nike’s strategy is hard to argue with–instead of sponsoring the Olympics, it sponsors the Olympians.
For all that, even Nike wants a piece of the Atlanta action. Along with some other nonsponsors, Nike is trying to dot downtown Atlanta with billboards. Olympic officials predictably brand these “parasite” efforts. But there’s not much they can do to thwart the free market. Besides, it’s another Olympic event. Who will win the 100-meter dash? Who will be the next gymnastics sweetheart? And how will American Express steal Visa’s thunder? Atlanta–it’s where Corporate America wants to be.
PRICE OF ADMISSION: Up to $20 million per company
WHO GETS THE MONEY: U.S. and Atlanta committees
WHAT THEY GET: These third-tier sponsors use the Games but not the phras “centennial Olympics.” It’s an eclectic group, from game shows to a baby Bell.
PRICE OF ADMISSION: Up to $40 million in money and services
WHO GETS THE MONEY: The International Olympic Committee
WHAT THEY GET: Whatever they want. This is the world’s priciest athletic club.
ADMISSION PRICE: Up to $40 million in money and services
WHO GETS THE MONEY: U.S. and Atlanta Committees
WHAT THEY GET: Rights to the torch logo and five rings emblazoned USA
