Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Brand Suicide, Communication Strategy, Confidence, Creativity, Culture, Documentary, Emotion, England, Football, Love, Loyalty, Management, Professionalism, Relevance, Resonance
I recently watched the Netflix documentary on Bobby Robson.
While I had followed his career as a manager – especially during Italia ’90 – I didn’t know many of his life’s details.
He had always come across as a kind, considerate man … maybe too kind and too considerate … but given his achievements in the game, it’s fair to say it worked for him.
While I thoroughly enjoyed the documentary, there were two things that really hit me in it.
The first was the people who went on camera to speak about him.
I’m not talking about his lovely wife and son, but football elite like Sir Alex Ferguson, Mourinho, Shearer, Lineker and even Gazza.
All to a man, talked about his character … integrity … compassion and humility.
For that to happen means you had to be something special.
But it’s the second part that led to the title of this post.
You see Bobby Robson went on to manage Barcelona.
Apparently he had previously turned them down twice due to his loyalty to the teams he was managing before, but on the 3rd ask – he said yes, even though it meant he had to follow in the footsteps of the great Johan Cruyff.
To be honest, this added a huge additional amount of pressure on him and fans were initially very skeptical about his tactics and style of play. But he won them, because he showed he loved the club and the region, he desperately wanted them to win and he conducted himself with nothing but compassion and dignity.
And this all turned into some iconic achievements and actions …
He brought Ronaldo to the club and turned him into the most famous player of his generation.
He won the Copa del Rey, Supercopa de España and European Cup Winners’ Cup all in one season.
He offered to pay part of his salary to cover the cost of his assistant manager, Jose Mourinho as he wanted him there so much.
He turned down approaches from other clubs because he loved Barcelona and wanted to honour his contract.
And then, just as he was ready to use that season as a launchpad to achieve even more, he discovered the Barcelona chairman only ever planned for him to be manager for one season.
ONE.
Like a buffer manager between Johan leaving and the next dynasty of Barcelona.
Imagine discovering that.
That you’re only seen as a ‘stop gap’.
To make it worse, they weren’t going to get rid of Bobby, they were going to ‘move him upstairs’.
Oh I am sure they thought that was a sign of respect, but it was anything but … especially with how they did it.
You see the manager they brought in was Louis Van Gaal.
Without doubt, an excellent manager … but not only was it a smack in Bobby’s face, they made Bobby attend his unveiling.
Like attending your own funeral.
And while I accept Van Gaal wanted to assert his arrival to the press, the way he did it was both arrogant and disrespectful … especially given the manager he was taking over – a manger who neither failed or was fired – was sitting to his right.
While Bobby was too nice to say anything, his face said it all.
But here’s the thing, Barcelona – or at least the top management – couldn’t care a less.
They got what they wanted.
And by keeping Robson onboard, they had – in essence – bought his complicity.
Or so they thought.
I’ve experienced these kind-of situations in my time.
Albeit a very loose version of these situations.
Being hired because we thought the client valued what we did and how we did it.
Then discovering it was really about PR because their intention was to make us complicit. That they deemed all the experiences and viewpoints we could bring to them, as unnecessary. Because they just wanted to be seen to be doing something without actually doing anything.
And that reveal was horrific.
Initially written-off as ‘teething problems’ before realising it’s fundamental problems.
And while money can make you temporarily complicit, in the hope you can find a way to make it work, if someone is not transparent from the start, it means you can never get to a better place.
And that’s when you discover that regardless of how much money a client – or a job – is paying you, it’s never enough.
Not because you want to be disgustingly rich, but because you determine your value beyond money, but the work you do and the people you do it with and for.
Some out there will never understand that.
They evaluate success with the money they have. Or the groups they are a part of.
But some will.
The ones who remember that what you have isn’t as important as how you got there.
Anyone can win, but only the best want to win well.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Context, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, Experience, Family, Innocence, Jill, LaLaLand, London, Love, My Fatherhood, Parents, Sentimentality
Tomorrow I’m on holiday.
For over a week.
I am also turning 50.
Both of these pieces of news are no doubt going to fill you with happiness.
[Though there is a post tomorrow, so don’t get too excited]
Well, that is good, because this post is about just that.
Happiness.
One of the best things that has ever happened to me is Otis.
I loved the idea of kids – and at 18, I actually tried to adopt, hahaha – but after that, the idea was put on the back burner because frankly, I always thought I was too young.
I swear part of that is because Paul, my best mate, also didn’t have kids … so I was in some form of arrested development.
Anyway, one day Jill – who had been very patient – pointed out I wasn’t getting any younger so we decided to go for it.
Of course we then discovered the only we would pull this off is if we had IVF.
ARGH!
But then we got 2 pieces of luck.
First was being able to have the treatment in Australia. This was important because the process in Shanghai was so unbelievably weird, complicated and confusing, that we’re not sure we would have ever stood a chance there.
Secondly, the treatment worked first time. We are under no illusion how fortunate we were … though there was some sort of cosmic comedy karma in the fact we discovered Jill was pregnant on April 1.
Now I don’t regret being late to the Dad party.
The reality is I didn’t feel ready before.
OK, so I don’t know if men ever feel ready, but that’s probably less to do with being a Dad and more to do with the fear of the responsibilities associated with being a Dad.
And even though we are 5 years down the road, I still feel that.
Sure, maybe we could have had a brother or sister for him if we’d done it sooner. Sure, there’s a part of me that would have loved to do that. But apart from the fact I worry I may not get to see him grow old given my age, I can live with the fact I am soon to be 50 and I have a 5 year old bundle of beautiful mischief.
And what a bundle of beautiful mischief he is.
Kind. Compassionate. Emotional. Creative. Curious. Imaginative. Cheeky. Full of energy.
He is a loving son who wants to see the best in everything.
Part of me worries a bit about that.
I’ve already seen how some kids try to take advantage of that generosity, but in the end – all we can do is prepare him for how to deal with things that are sadly going to happen in his life and he is generally handling those tougher situations pretty well.
The main thing for me is for him to be able to enjoy his childhood.
I get that’s an incredibly privileged way to live … but I also think that’s something every parent would want for their children.
The fact is life passes so fast, we want to try and ensure he is given the chance to enjoy the present.
Be silly.
Try different things.
Resist placing pressure on him to do things he doesn’t like.
Don’t get me wrong, I’d love him to like playing football as much as he likes doing acting, but he knows to support Nottingham Forest, so I’m OK with it.
Which leads back to the point of this post.
Happiness.
When we lived in LA, we bought Otis a trampoline for his birthday
As you can see, he was very happy to get one.
In fact, he was so happy, he would want to do it all the time. Including at night, where he would go into the garage with a torch [where the trampoline was kept] and just bounce up and down.
For hours.
And hours.
And hours.
When we left America, I wanted to sell the trampoline and get another when we worked out where we were going to live. But Jill had other ideas. And as usual, she was right.
Because while the weather in London is not the same as the weather in LA, that trampoline was a guarantee of happiness for Otis.
Not just because it was a treasured possession from another place, but because he still loves to bounce on it.
For hours.
And hours.
And hours.
Which is a very long winded way to get to the point of this post.
As the weather is nicer, Otis likes nothing more than bouncing on his trampoline while being sprayed with water.
Yes, I know this sounds like the sort of torture the US government subjected inmates at Guantanemo Bay to, but he adores it.
Recently we captured a photo while he was doing it that, for me, sums up what happiness is.
As a feeling.
As a look.
As a parent.
As my son.
Which is why I hope this is one thing that never changes as he gets older.
Not just because I doubt it can be topped – regardless what he does – but because, for me, it is the definition of perfect.
Stay happy Otis.
You make your old man giggle with pride and delight.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Comment, Communication Strategy, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Cunning, Differentiation, Emotion, Empathy, England, Entertainment, Experience, Football, Happiness, Honesty, Imagination, Innovation, Insight, Interviews, Love, Loyalty, Management, Marketing, Nottingham, Nottingham Forest, Paul, Planners Making A Complete Tit Of Themselves And Bless, Point Of View, Presenting, Sentimentality
So a while back I was invited to do a talk for Isolated – the TedTalkesque site that raises money for charity.
I could have revisited a presentation I’d written I the past, but I thought I would take the opportunity to write the presentation I’ve always wanted to write …about why Brian Clough was so amazing.
Now I could have written a thousand slides, but as Isolated in linked to creativity, I decided to make it slightly relevant to that subject by framing the presentation about ‘why the creative industry needs more of Clough’s attitude towards success’.
Whether I pulled it off is anyone’s guess and frankly – I don’t really care – because I got to write about Cloughy, but if you fancy checking out a long, rambley, over-sentimental and biased talk about Clough and Nottigham Forest, then head over to Isolated and hear me bore you half to death.
Now I appreciate the idea of hearing my voice could be too much for you to deal with, and if that’s the case, I have an alternative plan …
1 Donate money to Isolated … because it’s for a good cause.
2 Look at the deck below.
Now I admit you won’t get much out of it just seeing the deck without my accompanying narrative because it’s my usual random ‘picture’ rubbish … plus the gifs don’t work.
And where there is some writing, the lack of context means it may come across as some sort of z-grade psychobabble [even though it is all from interpreting Clough’s beliefs and philosophy over his near 20 years running Nottingham Forest] … however if you can put that all aside and want to look at some amazing pics of some amazing Forest players over the years, then it may be the best presentation you’ll ever see.
Maybe.
Possibly.
Hopefully.
Anyway, it’s Friday so just humour me and even if you don’t agree with what I say [which would be hard because there’s no chance you’ll be able to work out what I’m trying to say, because even I’m not entirely sure] know my goal wasn’t to get your agreement, but just to write a presentation about Nottingham Forest and the incredible Brian Clough.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Chaos, Comment, Communication Strategy, Confidence, Context, Craft, Creative Brief, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Design, Differentiation, Digital, Emotion, Fulfillment, Honesty, Imagination, Innovation, Insight, Internet, Love, Loyalty, Management, Marketing, Martin Weigel, Perspective, Planners, Planning, Point Of View, R/GA, Resonance, Talent, Technology, WeigelCampbell
Before I write today’s post, I want you to listen to something …
Yep, that’s the White Stripes with their now classic, ‘Seven Nation Army’.
I say classic, because it is.
It was recorded in 2002 as a bit of fun and yet now it is deeply entrenched in culture.
Sung at concerts.
Sporting events.
Pubs.
It’s the modern equivalent of Smoke In The Water … the go-to song for any guitarist starting out. [And the nightmare for any guitar shop employee]
But the thing about it that I never realised is that it’s a song without a chorus.
Nothing.
Nada.
It’s deliberate, because one day Jack White liked the idea of – in his own words – “creating a compelling song without a chorus”.
And he did.
A song that will no doubt outlive him because – like Queen’s We Will Rock You – is a simple, repetitive riff that allows audiences to not just join in, but be an integral and active participant in the music.
When you look at the ad industry, while we have evolved from talking AT audiences, our version of audience involvement is still largely based getting them to be an extension for what we’re doing rather than be an integral part of it.
Now of course, I get an audience doing stuff for a band they love is very different to getting people who are mildly interested in a brand, to do something for us … but the main point here is we are not pushing any boundaries right now.
Oh of course there’s agencies constantly pronouncing they have just executed a ‘world first’, but apart from the fact it’s often just a slight variation of something that has previously been around, it’s almost always done to benefit the agencies and clients ego and no one else.
But where is the bolder stuff?
The writing a compelling song without a chorus stuff?
If adland was about writing music, you can bet EVERYTHING would have a chorus.
It would also probably be a pop-song, 3 minutes long [MAX], as simplistic as they can make it and designed to be so palatable as to not offend a soul.
It would be this song …
Hell, even Matt Beaumont thought so in his brilliant book, E.
OK, I’m being a bit mean because its not like there aren’t some agencies doing amazing pieces of work using the ‘traditional’ model not to mention those who are genuinely trying to push the boundaries of what creativity can be – and do – for clients, like this brilliant Planned Parenthood campaign we did at R/GA recently … but in the main, the focus is not about breaking new ground it’s about treading carefully over the old.
Look, I get it … this stuff costs a lot of money.
There’s a bunch riding on it.
But where this ‘minimum risk’ approach fails is when brands talk about wanting to make a big impact in culture … something that powerfully differentiates themselves from the competition … an idea that change attitudes and behaviour … because the most effective way to increase the odds of this happening is to literally do something that runs counter to traditional norms.
An airport lounge that is modelled on a Rock Stars house.
An electric car with an insane button.
A ravioli where the pasta disappears.
An ad that talks about failure.
Now I know what you’re thinking, most companies will never do that.
And you’re right.
But what I find amusing is that we all know doing the same as everyone else produces, in the main, even less chance of breakthrough success than walking into the unknown or unexpected.
The harsh reality is that while many companies talk about breakthrough … innovation … provocation … what they really mean is – at best – being a degree or two better than their competition or – at worst – simply playing catch-up
Or as Lee said, they confuse innovation with modernisation.
And while I know there is a lot of talent in our biz – talent who use creativity to create incredible ways to either deal with old problems or create new normals – we are in danger of letting ourselves just become executioners of clients transactional requirements, and if that happens, we lose any chance of regaining/retaining our seat at the boardroom table. Because in my experience what the best C-Suite want aren’t companies who simply execute their requirements, but those who see the World differently to them, so they can help them get to places in ways they never imagined possible.
In other words, creative people with commercial appreciation rather than commercial people with creative appreciation.
Now the problem is we live in times where the money men value consistency more highly than boldness … which is ironic given they them place them under immense pressure to keep finding new ways to grow, transform and unlock new revenue streams.
An oxymoron if you will.
Which, for me, highlights 3 things.
1. Independence is power.
2. As Martin and I talked about at Cannes last year, chaos can achieve what order can’t.
3. The only things worth doing are the ones that can break your heart.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Audio Visual, Childhood, Comment, Creativity, Culture, Dad, Emotion, Empathy, Experience, Love, Music, Queen, Relationships
OK, full disclosure, this is a post about Queen.
It’s also a post about parents, love, death and sentimentality.
So in some ways, it might be ‘peak-Rob blogging’.
But it’s not about me, it’s about a story I read recently that I just thought was beautiful.
OK, so it kind of reminded me of the time my Dad surprised me by buying The Works, Queen’s 1984 album, but most of all it just reminded me how music and memories are so deeply entwined that it has the capacity to act as some sort of temporary time machine.
And that is pretty wonderful.
With that, here’s the story …
For what it’s worth, my dad took me to see Queen at the L.A. Forum in’77.
I was 10.
This band Thin Lizzy opened for them. I remember thinking, “Who is this Lizzy chick?!?”
Then the lights went out, and Jailbreak began. I’ve never been the same …
All this is the introduction to one of the greatest moments of my life.
If ya have a moment, here’s the story …
I was 9 when I saw the full page ad in L.A. Times Calendar.
My parents had just divorced.
The Forum show was on my 10th birthday.
I called Dad …
“Hey Dad, um, Queen is playing on my birthday …”
“Yeah, I know. I tried to get tickets, but they’re sold out.”
[Damn!]
So Dad picks me up on March 3rd, and says “Let’s go to Sizzler for your birthday.”
“Okay, Dad, sounds great.” And it did, because I was thrilled to be with him.
So on the way to Sizzler, we ‘happen’ to pass The Forum.
In HUGE flashing lights: QUEEN TONIGHT!!
I thought ‘Oh man, what a dick! How could he torture me like this?!?’
I said nothing about that and we ate.
Afterwards on the way back home, we pass The Forum AGAIN.
Dad says …
“Oh, can you grab something out of the glove compartment for me?”
“Sure Dad,” I reply.
I open it and there – on top of the papers – is an envelope.
“This, Dad?” I ask.
“Yeah. Open it for me, will ya?” he says.
Guess what.
2 FUCKING TICKETS TO SEE QUEEN TONIGHT!
I will NEVER forget the sheer joy of that moment.
I still have the tour program.
Dad passed away, and at his memorial, I jammed all my brothers and nieces and nephews into my van and BLASTED Bohemian Rhapsody.
When it ended, there was complete silence.
It was freakin beautiful.
Thank you for reading.