When too cute leads to goodbye

I love golf. I'm better at watching it than playing it. I have an open heterosexual man-crush for Jordan Spieth. If I could swap places with one person in the world, he's my guy.

I also enjoy sports betting. Nothing over-the-top, but I keep the TAB in business with $5 and $10 donations a few times every month.

A few of us from Gore High School's class of 1993 get together for a weekend once a year, just the boys - same stories, different year, once a year. This year we've added a little betting syndicate with the aim of turning our monthly contributions into a bank balance that would take us to Vegas ... or Edendale (closer to the truth). It certainly provides a weekly vehicle for quality banter and general abuse.

So far, we are living proof of why the TAB reports a massive profit every year. It was my turn to bet this past weekend. After considerable success from a couple of NRL multis over the last few months, I was confident (my first mistake).

The PGA Championship was my chance to make us some solid dollars. I felt bad not punting on my mate Jordan, but as the favourite for the title, there just wasn't enough value for me there. 

I went for Rikki Fowler to win and to finish in the top 5 (which came in) along with top 5 finishes for three other guys who ended up playing about as well as I would have!

Justin Thomas was where I should have put my money. We got a little collect which covered about half my total investment of capital. Vegas remains safe, for now.

So, when an email arrived this morning with a story of how Fowler cost one punter millions by not winning, I was all ready to lap it up and share it with the boys to let them know our hard luck story wasn't anywhere near the pain this bloke must have been feeling.

I click the link and the page loads. So does a pop-up asking my to follow them on Facebook. Fair enough. I already do, so I closed that. No problem.. Then, as I'm about to scroll past the banner ad at the top of the page and the menu options to get to the content, an embedded video ad appears at the top of the page and I cant move. 

A little frustrating that I have no option to sit through 10 seconds of my life I can't get back, but I want the content, it's headline in the email did a great job of piquing my interest enough to hang in there. The ad (for some type of driver or carbon shaft I think - I wasn't paying attention) finishes and I hit the down arrow on my laptop keyboard. Nothing. I try page down, nothing, I look for the scroll bar on the left. Nope.

Another video ad starts. Of course it does!

Remarkably, I'm still hanging in there. I figure maybe this is an issue with my Chrome browser, so I go to the unbelievable length of copying the link to the page in the address bar, opening a different browser, paste the address in and ...

Same story. 

In a fit of rage I mutter all sorts of expletives (only muttered because I am working in a cafe at the time) and decide it's worthy of a name-and-shame blog post.

First rule of blogging. Never blog angry. (Note to self: immediately trademark the term Blangry)

I have had to rewrite this significantly. I'm guessing that the publication may have found the first version border-line.

In any case, whilst this blog post has served the purpose of getting my frustration out, it also contains a marketing lesson. If your content is great, for the love of God, don't add things that get in the way.

The story would have positioned this publication positively in my mind. Yes, I know they are a commercial entity and brands (whoever they were) would have paid good money for those campaigns, but there are one hundred other ways the marketing messages this publication pushes could have been delivered, without creating a road-block in front of it's article.

Maybe it was my technology set-up (it's a new laptop and up to date software so I find that doubtful), and I know my way around the dark recesses of the Internet (trust me), but I was so interested in the story I think it's fair to say I went over and above what most visitors would do to access it. This only increased my frustration level because I gave them the benefit of the doubt and invested five times the time I would have expected to ... and still haven't been able to read the story yet. (Sense my frustration???)

The reality is, it wasn't an exclusive and a quick search on my Google machine revealed the same story on a rival publication's site, so that's the one I visited and the one I shared with the nine other lads in our Boys Weekend group.

So, just like on the first tee, it's easy to complicate things. When it comes to your marketing messages, don't try and get too cute. Keeping it simple is always the best option.

PS: Thanks, I feel so much better now :)