Post by hendo on Jun 27, 2020 8:50:55 GMT
Advertising
I see that Godalming are offering a chance to promote yourself or business on one of the pitch side banners for a mere £250 a year, which seems incredibly good value and an excellent plan for local firms.
All those years ago when I first came to Weycourt, along with the other man and his dog, there were only two advertising boards on display along the side of the pitch.
The first was for Seafayre, an excellent local purveyor of fish and chips and just the sort of place to visit after a freezing afternoon on the terraces. Definitely money well spent on publicity there.
The other board was for British Aerospace.
Try as I might, I could never come up with a plausible scenario when a spectator’s gaze might linger on the sign during a lull in play and be overwhelmed with the urge to buy a jump jet.
Now, of course, all grounds at our level and above are surrounded by garishly painted advertising hoardings inviting us to rent a skip, erect some scaffolding, fix a roof (flat or sloping) or insure ourselves with someone whose contact details are of a size that can only be read with the aid of powerful binoculars.
Then, as we move up the football pyramid steps and the revenue increases, the ads get more sophisticated, hailing the delights of the big corporations and Banks until eventually we get to the giddy heights of the Premier League where our familiar bits of old ply and canvas have been replaced by moving light art forms designed to be seen by millions of TV viewers around the world.
But no matter how costly, sophisticated or elaborate, none can boast what we had at Godalming: Forget your McDonalds, your Santander and your Nikes.
No one else has a reminder to pick up an Airbus on the way home.
I see that Godalming are offering a chance to promote yourself or business on one of the pitch side banners for a mere £250 a year, which seems incredibly good value and an excellent plan for local firms.
All those years ago when I first came to Weycourt, along with the other man and his dog, there were only two advertising boards on display along the side of the pitch.
The first was for Seafayre, an excellent local purveyor of fish and chips and just the sort of place to visit after a freezing afternoon on the terraces. Definitely money well spent on publicity there.
The other board was for British Aerospace.
Try as I might, I could never come up with a plausible scenario when a spectator’s gaze might linger on the sign during a lull in play and be overwhelmed with the urge to buy a jump jet.
Now, of course, all grounds at our level and above are surrounded by garishly painted advertising hoardings inviting us to rent a skip, erect some scaffolding, fix a roof (flat or sloping) or insure ourselves with someone whose contact details are of a size that can only be read with the aid of powerful binoculars.
Then, as we move up the football pyramid steps and the revenue increases, the ads get more sophisticated, hailing the delights of the big corporations and Banks until eventually we get to the giddy heights of the Premier League where our familiar bits of old ply and canvas have been replaced by moving light art forms designed to be seen by millions of TV viewers around the world.
But no matter how costly, sophisticated or elaborate, none can boast what we had at Godalming: Forget your McDonalds, your Santander and your Nikes.
No one else has a reminder to pick up an Airbus on the way home.
