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COLUMN: Reflections from the ‘Schmooze Bowl’ in Minneapolis |
Minnetonka, Hopkins, Plymouth, Wayzata, St. Louis Park, Deephaven, Excelsior, Medicine Lake, Tonka Bay, Shorewood, Greenwood
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By John Freivalds
Published 2/13/2018
Sun Sailor-Wayzata, MN
Guest Columnist
Did you go to Super Bowl LII? No? Neither did I, but I did go to a number of schmoozing events which is really why Super Bowls exist in the first place. C’mon, who besides the people of South Lobster, Massachusetts, and Philly Cheese Steaklandia cared about the game? The purpose is for corporations to treat their clients to a fun weekend of wining, dining and, in the end, a game. Oh yeah, neat ads get shown off on TV. The Super Bowl has become a national rite of passage like the Fourth of July.
Schmoozing is a Yiddish word, which according to Webster’s, means “to chat in a friendly and persuasive manner, especially so as to gain favor, business or connection.” Few cities have a visual of how schmoozing fits in. We all drive by General Mills headquarters in Golden Valley. Then you have stores like Lunds & Byerly’s, where Cheerios, Wheaties and a bevy of other products are sold. So, how do the products get from Golden Valley into ever supermarket in the U.S.? At one of the hotels chock full of people for the Super Bowl I met a General Mills manager “responsible for driving growth for retail grocery.” OK, you need good products at competitive prices, but you have to do something besides hand out a price list to potential buyers.
My late wife did this for Bristol Myers Squibb marketing chemotherapy drugs. At a PGA tournament, they would buy a tent on the 18th green for $65,000. In the morning, they would give lectures by noted oncologists, and in the afternoon, they would watch golf.
General Mills turned down an offer of $10 million to be a sponsor of the Super Bowl and instead brought in 36 representatives of grocery stores from around the country to be guests for three days of schmoozing. Game tickets were going for $5,000 each, plus the cost of hosting them. Each of the 36 representatives got a gift bag full of goodies and a reception room with a fully stocked bar and rides to and from the game.
I live 14 miles from downtown Minneapolis, but where I live, Lake Minnetonka has lot of neat restaurants, one new four-star hotel and tons of ice fishing houses to look at. All our favorite restaurants were booked solid; some 46,000 area hotel rooms were sold out with even Days Inn charging $900 a night for a three-day stay. Gasoline prices went up 20 cents a gallon, and airports as far away as Rochester were jammed packed with the 1,200 private jets that flew in.
"Super bowl schmoozers"
A favorite game of us locals was to see how unprepared the visitors were. They had stylish overcoats and shawls, but didn’t realize that with minus-10 degree temperatures you need Will Steger Mukluks, a down parka and a hat straight out of “Fargo.” I started up a conversation with a well-attired woman from Los Angeles and asked, “Where’s your coat?” Turns out she was going to a restaurant one block away, but she had asked the hotel limo to take her.
So besides looking at how the visitors were attired, the other sport was to learn a) where are the celebrities staying and b) did you actually see one? Jennifer Lopez and Puff Daddy were staying at Wayzata’s new Hotel Landing. The rumor that Justin Timberlake was staying there was false. Another rumor was that singer Bono was seen at Jake O’Connor’s Public House in nearby Excelsior. But in any event, if you were looking for women, the ratio of women to men was maybe 10:1. How do I know? My barber and his buddy went bar hopping and this is what they told me.
Locals flocked to downtown Minneapolis to a variety of corporate sponsored events and a zipline was stretched across the Mississippi River. A total of 10,000 people signed up for that one. Basically, it was the Minnesota State Fair atmosphere, but in the dead of winter. There was even a guy who set up a vending machine selling snowballs for $1 each. The only thing lacking was for him to sell it on a stick.
John Freivalds lives in Wayzata and is a writer, commodities broker, consultant and opinion columnist.