April 2012 is decision-making time across the world of sports. Though the decisions of the likes of Peyton Manning, Roger Goodell, and a faux virgin in March carried headlines bigger than anything that will be decided in the coming days, weeks, and months, this is quite a pivotal, game-changing moment.
April 2012 is the month when 506 life-altering decisions “” that is, 253 draft picks and 253 potentially disastrous-according-to-everyone-not-named-Deion wardrobe choices “” will be made at the NFL Draft in New York. April 2012 is the month when NBA Commissioner David Stern will decide which team will get Anthony Davis (the results of his decision will be staged with Ping-Pong balls in the Draft Lottery in May). April 2012 is the month when a 71-year-old decides whether or not to work as a contractor on the Saints’ sideline. April 2012 is the month when Mark Sanchez will have to decide at least 30 times whether or not to accept Christ as his savior.
April 2012 is also the month when I decide to give the NFL a free bit of advice: Give Vince a call. The NFL, coming off three straight god-awful Super Bowl halftime shows, needs something different this time. We’ve run out of old bands to use, and they mostly suck now, and the new bands just lip-synch, and they mostly suck even worse than the old bands, so the only logical thing to do is to have the WWE stage a 20-man battle royale with a WrestleMania title shot on the line. Such an event would have no downside “” quick and easy setup and minimal sound and lighting design “” and beaucoup upside “” real rasslin’.
The franchise could easily buy cheap stock footage of an assortment of gory zombie movie scenes to play on the scoreboards coming out of timeouts.
April 2012 just might end up being the month when new Hornets ownership is formally decided, leading us to the potential decision to rebrand the franchise, a likely inevitability. More than a few possible new team nicknames “” Pelicans, Krewe, Brass, Babies, and an assortment of uncopyrighted synonyms for “Pirates” (Rovers, Corsairs, Freebooters) “” have been suggested by the pleasantly and unsurprisingly imaginative New Orleans fan base. Possible future owner Chris Trew, beard-grower and owner of a chain of theaters in the Gulf South, told “Balls” that he has an affinity for the “Krewe” nickname as well as the Mardi Gras jerseys that closely resemble Cadbury Creme Egg wrappers.
The perfect nickname, however, would be the New Orleans Zombies, and the colors would be Glaucous Blue, Sea Green, Ash Gray, and, as a subtle nod to one of the great historic leaders of New Orleans, a deep, dark Chocolate Brown (for you web nerds, those colors are #6082B6, #2E8B57, #B2BEB5, and #2A1500). The A-to-B connection between Zombies and voodoo would give New Orleans the regional significance in a nickname for which all professional sports franchises should strive.
The promo night possibilities would be endless. The first 500 fans dressed as (or naturally appearing to be) zombies would get a free voodoo doll of the opposing team’s star player and a used needle. The next 500 such fans would get a free order of brains (pink cotton candy). The next 17,000 fans would get a free DVD copy of the Night of the Living Dead knockoff du jour. The franchise could easily buy cheap stock footage of an assortment of gory zombie movie scenes to play on the scoreboards coming out of timeouts. And if you think I haven’t thought of the possibility of having Miss Cleo as a public address announcer, then I have horrible news for you.
It’s an exciting time in the sports world, and a lot of potentially great decisions are soon to be made. Let’s just hope that none of them involve TV specials hosted by Jim “P.R. Poison” Gray.