That recorded
phrase you hear while on hold for half an hour--"Your call is important to
us"--means precisely the opposite of what it says. In truth, your call is
not important to them, or they'd have answered it by now.
Sports are filled
with similar expressions of insincerity, a Bizarro World in which the truth can
be entirely inverted, so that "It's not about the money" means
"It's all about the money" and "I have never taken steroids,
period" means "I have taken steroids, exclamation mark." A
"vote of confidence," as every coach knows, is code for "You're
fired."
So when we're
constantly told that the Super Bowl is "an event watched by an estimated
one billion people worldwide" ( The Detroit News) or that the Steelers and
the Seahawks "will be seen by a billion people in 225 countries"
(Vancouver Province), it pays to do the math.
How exactly did we
arrive at what the Ottawa Citizen calls the "Super Bowl's billion-plus TV
audience"? Last year the Super Bowl was watched by 86.1 million Americans,
according to Nielsen Media Research, and by 3.1 million Canadians. That makes
at least 89.2 million North American viewers, or less than one tenth of the
alleged audience worldwide, where interest in NFL would seem to diminish with
distance. Are Johannesburgers really interested in Ben Roethlisberger?
Initiative, a New
York--based media research firm, measured the global audience for last year's
Super Bowl at 93 million people, with 98% of those viewers in North America.
That would mean roughly two million people outside North America watched the
Super Bowl. It's an impressive figure for a sport the rest of the world doesn't
play and a game that kicks off at ungodly hours on much of the planet. But it's
still 907 million viewers short of a billion. The NFL only (and artfully) says
that the Super Bowl is broadcast in 225 countries to a potential audience of a
billion people. So when Bloomberg News reports that Super Bowl XL "will be
broadcast to an audience of one billion viewers," the news service is
mistaken, though it's a bank error that works in the NFL's favor. All of which
is to say: My baloney has a first name, it's S-U-P-E-R.
This
billion-viewer myth, as unshakable as any urban legend, isn't a lie. Rather,
it's the dictionary definition of hype: "Greatly exaggerated publicity
intended to excite public interest in something." And so 93 million becomes
a billion-plus.
Nobody seems to
mind. For months the best-selling book in America was a non-fiction memoir that
is largely fiction. The linguists at the American Dialect Society named
truthiness the word that best exemplified 2005. Truthiness is defined as
something "one wishes to be true, rather than facts."
So when Kobe
Bryant scores 81 points in a game and says afterward, "It's about the W,
that's why I turned it on," he appears to be less engaged in truth than in
truthiness. (He wants to believe what he just said.) When he says he'd have
been "sick as a dog" had he scored 81 points in a loss--well, that
smells more like b.s. (Even he can't be buying that, can he?)
By now most sports
fans have what Hemingway called a writer's greatest asset: a "built-in,
shock-proof" b.s. detector. So when Ron Artest's agent says his client
"did not want to be traded to Sacramento weeks ago and does not want to be
traded to Sacramento now," you're confident that in a matter of hours
Artest will declare himself--as he did last week--"very happy" to be
traded to Sacramento. Some athletes are so transparently insincere as to be
inoffensive. Like the airline that bumps you, then apologizes for any
"inconvenience," they are simply doing what they do.
Likewise, it's
hard to feign shock at Super Bowl malarkey. Seldom is truth more routinely
inverted than in the days leading up to the game, when a player can get an
award for "high moral character" and solicit a prostitute on the same
night--and choreographed halftime nudity is somberly attributed to a
"wardrobe malfunction." That was the night that Janet Jackson decided,
in the words of Newsday, to "bare her body to a billion people."