| A couple years ago, while attending a corporate conference in Northern California, I spotted Roger Goodell standing across a vacant ballroom between executive sessions. He was leaning up against a high top, minding his iPhone, diligently wearing his name tag, and keeping to himself as everyone else evacuated to the coffee stations—a guy very comfortable in his own skin, I reckoned.
It was a timely moment for an executive who had spent his tenure expanding the NFL across the week, the calendar, and the globe. The league had recently begun its $1 billion annual partnership with Amazon Prime, Thursday Night Football, and I used the idle moment to introduce myself and express my enthusiasm for the broadcast. For years, the league’s Thursday night game had been an afterthought—usually a contest between lowly pretenders. After all, the most established clubs could hardly have wanted to shorten their week of preparation to play a game on Thursday evenings, competing against primetime programming on the other networks. If Monday Night Football was the panacea, Thursdays were the pits.
By that point, though, the league had ostensibly revived the product with excellent production, new talent, and an increasingly compelling schedule. Goodell, a mild-mannered guy with the firmest handshake I’ve ever been a party to, politely nodded like a mensch. And what I remember most is that he had that inimitable executive talent of making a conversation partner feel like he appreciated their perspective, regardless of whether it held any merit.
Anyway, this memory bubbled up in my mind earlier this week as I was exchanging notes with my partner John Ourand. Last week, John told me, the NFL had achieved a meaningful milestone for our replatforming age: The viewership for Amazon’s Thursday Night Football had beaten out ESPN’s Monday Night Football for the first time ever, 13.63 million to 12.2 million—the first time that a streaming service had attracted a larger audience than one of the league’s top partners in a same-week battle.
Yes, we’re all living through an enormous and unforgiving platform shift as our monoculture is replaced by a more affinity-driven, balkanized media mix that is still presenting itself with quirks aplenty. CNN’s ratings are falling, readers are fleeing The Washington Post, Rachel Maddow’s post-election viewership has cratered, and some pundits are seriously, if shallowly, questioning whether Kamala Harris’s decision to bypass Joe Rogan cost her the election. (Come on, people…)
Nevertheless, these NFL numbers set off a minor supernova within the sports media industrial complex. Many legacy media executives grumbled that the league was favoring a new partner over longtime relationships—offering better games between more popular teams—and others felt this tipped the scales even further in favor of the insurgents. Given the ascent of the Prime broadcast, some expressed skepticism that the Shield’s historic linear distributors would be able to renew their deals when the NFL inevitably exercises an out in its current contracts and reopens bidding at the end of the decade. As John notes in his excellent story, Is the NFL Falling Hard for Amazon?, the league’s partnership prerogatives—who they want to work with, which entities receive the choicest games, and who they exclude—will define the next chapter of the content industry.
And yet, it would be facile and plainly incorrect to assume that this next chapter is already written. As my partner Matt Belloni notes in his characteristically brilliant piece, Bob Iger’s Netflix Moment, Iger has completely reversed the company’s fortunes in the streaming business over virtually the same brief period that Amazon has been broadcasting NFL games. When Iger took back the reins from Bob Chapek, Disney was absorbing a staggering $1.5 billion quarterly loss in streaming. On last week’s earnings call, the company announced third-quarter profits of more than $250 million as it prepares to close on the final third of Hulu and roll out ESPN’s “Flagship” D.T.C. service.
The impact of the results, in profound ways, transcend the P&L. “I think we can call another winner in the streaming wars,” Matt wrote. “Netflix, obviously, is already one of the three or four video services that will survive this era of digital transition. YouTube is there, too. Spotify, if we count audio. And now, Disney almost certainly will make it.” Indeed, this battle to survive until the next stage of the industry is far more consequential than any sporting contest. It’s the story of our time, and the macro-saga of our industry. And it’s certainly what you should expect to read in Puck.
Have a great weekend, Jon |