One of the greatest scenes in Airplane II: The Sequel is when the flight attendant Elaine (played by Julie Hagerty) tells the passengers that they are headed towards the sun and certain death:
Elaine: “Please, ladies and gentlemen, please calm down. Listen to me!”
[the passengers calm down]
Elaine: “We’ve been thrown off course just a tad.”
Passenger: “What’s that mean?”
Elaine: “In space terms, about 70 million miles.”
[the passengers appear interested, nod their heads]
Elaine: “The bumps you feel are car-sized asteroids smashing into the hull.”
[the passengers are still quiet and interested]
Elaine: “Also, we’re heading right for the sun and can’t seem to change course.”
[the passengers are still quiet and calm, put on sunglasses]
Passenger: “Are you telling us everything?”
Elaine: “Not exactly. We’re also out of coffee.”
[everyone erupts into total panic]
It so perfectly conveys our nature to overlook huge impending problems that may be complex or built upon something that we are not entirely familiar with, in exchange for the license to freak out over the borderline inane. Which leads me to economic bubbles.
By far, the best thing about economic bubbles is that as they are getting out of hand (you know, stuff like not batting an eye when that fixer-upper Cape Cod is suddenly $304,000) most experts think that everything is okay; nothing is out of the ordinary, no possible doom is looming. But then, when the bubble gets much bigger and then pops… well, then, the same experts usually rail against whomever (or whatever) because “the writing was on the wall” and what have you. Everything was convoluted, we should have seen the doom looming. You do not need me to provide you with recent examples. We all know which bubbles have popped.
Which begs the following question: what sector, right now, seems to be doing good (and, in some cases, really good), has mostly positive press coverage, is constantly expanding into new markets, and has an aura about it that seemingly dictates that it will never encounter a truly disastrous hit? To me, there is one answer that no one seems to be talking about: major American sports, also known as the NFL, MLB, NBA, and the NCAA (specifically, college football and basketball).
I will guess that the typical reaction to the above paragraph will produce one of two responses (be it subconsciously or not) from you. Response #1 would probably fall into this camp: yeah, some pro teams will take some serious hits financially down the line and, yeah, the NBA or MLB may have to contract some teams down the line, but, as a whole, any of those leagues are in good enough shape to weather any financial turbulence. Response #2 would probably fall into this camp: who cares—this is only sports after all. For you Response #1 people, all I will say is that it was dogma that newspapers and the housing market would never fall apart like they did; for you Response #2 people, I ask that you give me an opportunity to explain why you should care. Because if any of the four aforementioned sports bodies were to fall apart (especially the NFL) it would provide, I believe, an excellent glimpse of how we Americans are truly willing to fundamentally change in this new millenium. I will get to why I think that shortly, but first an explanation of why I think one (or all four bodies) will fall apart much sooner than anyone is willing to admit to.
The obvious first answer as to why the potential exists for one of the four sports bodies to fall apart is money. If customers cannot afford to actually go to the games, then one of two things will happen: you will either have empty seats, or concession sales will take a serious hit. Both of things mean lowering prices (or just taking outright losses) and that, of course, means fewer profits (all while the salaries of the players remain roughly the same). Additionally, if corporations cannot set aside money for the suites at the stadiums, promotional knick-knacks and general marketing, and bids for stadium naming rights, the teams, again, start to lose some revenue that they once thought they could always count on.
The second answer is technology. When you factor in a lack of disposable income, why would the casual viewer go out of his or her way to go to a game when you have HDTVs and higher in-game production value at your fingertips (either within the comforts of your own home, or at any sports bar that is all but guaranteed to have at least ten TVs on simultaneously)? Add to this, the freely available sports content on the web, accessible from your laptop, PC, and/or phone, and it becomes completely plausible for a world to exist wherein people are okay with not going to see live games—which, again, hurts the team’s finances. (Yes, the teams will have a revenue stream associated with whatever TV rights deal was signed for them but those TV deals have expiration dates; they are not in perpetuity. Again, revenue from TV and marketing is good, but people coming to the stadium and buying concessions and knick-knacks is always the best-case scenario. This is similar to how it looks great on paper that a band sells 5 million albums when, really, the band would love it if you went to their shows instead so that they could make a much better percentage of money.)
The last answer has to do with college basketball and football specifically, and its death knell will most certainly be overexpansion. Regarding NCAA football, there seems to be an annual we-hate-the-BCS parade that comes out every year. I have already