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There’s always been a touch of theater to the NBA Draft. The shiny suits. The handshake hugs. The anxious mothers gripping their sons’ knees as if they were clinging to a brand new life. It’s the rare distillation of hard work finally paying off, and raw emotion we rarely see unfold in real time.
But over the last two nights, the NBA didn’t just stage a show—they sold the stage, the script, and the orchestra pit to an insurance giant, with a seemingly endless marketing budget. It wasn’t basketball. It was branded content. And it was, frankly, lame.
Through the generosity of a friend, I was able to attend the first night of the draft at Barclays Center with my son, which is just a short Citi Bike ride from our home. It’s a big international event, and we were excited by the energy and pageantry upon arrival.
Then the advertising mentions started. And never ended. We ended up leaving early because, frankly, the sponsor integration was so comprehensive it felt like we were watching a two-hour commercial, interspersed with lovely 60-second draft moments.
It isn’t easy to convey the full extent of State Farm’s title sponsorship. In the arena, the fictional agent “Jake from State Farm” was treated like a legitimate celebrity, complete with red carpet, airtime, arena applause, and an oddly disquieting but spiritual presence. On the bright side, the beer was cold.
The most egregious offense? The signature chime sound—“the pick is in”—wasn’t the classic NBA chime. This year, they sold that to the highest bidder, and it became the State Farm jingle.
“What the hell?” said my 18-year-old son upon hearing it, although he didn’t say “hell.” That audio cue, once reserved for corny commercials, became the signal of a young athlete’s life-changing forever. Instead of goosebumps, we got groans.
Like a bad neighbor, State Farm was there and refused to leave without making the umpteenth point of an argument no one was interested in. It had me wondering out loud— is there anything that the NBA won’t sell (or should I say sell out?)
My son and I ended up leaving early, but I tuned in to the Draft Day Two broadcast on Thursday night to see how the experience compared, and, shockingly, the sponsorships on the broadcast were even more invasive.
Look, I get the need for sponsorships and advertising, but too much of anything is bad. And this was terrible. Not burial ground violation bad, but you get my drift.
(Side note: How unbelievably enormous is the marketing budget for insurance giants like State Farm, Geico, and Progressive? Also, does Jason Bateman need to be involved? I’ve a good idea — cut the ad budget in half and promote the savings to your customers. You’d get my business, and probably a lot more.)
Of course, this isn’t new. Sports and advertising have always gone hand in hand. Michael Jordan sold Gatorade. Peyton Manning hawks everything from pizza to insurance (and yes, his Paintin’ Manning bit still elicits a legit laugh from me every single time.) But State Farm didn’t just sponsor the NBA Draft—it was a State Farm production. The commercial swallowed the content whole.
And for what? The NBA is hardly strapped for cash. According to Forbes, league-wide revenue hit $13 billion last season, up from $10 billion just a few years prior. Each franchise is now worth an average of $3.85 billion, second only to the NFL. Broadcast deals with ESPN, NBC, and soon Amazon ensure a firehose of revenue that doesn’t slow down, even in a ratings dip. This is a league that prints money.
So again, how much sponsorship revenue is enough? Is every sacred moment up for sale?
The answer, if last night is any indication, is a resounding yes. The NBA didn’t just blur the line between content and commercial—they replaced the line with a slogan. Instead of goosebumps and anticipation, we got Jake from State Farm and a nauseating reminder that authenticity is expendable, as long as the check clears.
The NBA Draft used to feel like a ceremony of life-changing moments, rewarding hard work. Now it’s an infomercial.
This is an opinion piece. The views expressed in this article are those of just the author.