Son of a pitch!

Before I went back to school, I was an account executive at a newswire. My job was to advise clients on their communications strategies, which is more accurate than simply saying, “I sold stuff.” I was never the aggressive, Glengarry Glen Ross-type of salesperson; my skills lay in developing relationships with my clients, understanding their needs and providing them with the right product or service. I made sure each proposal was personalized and meant something to my client.  

Now that I’m on the other side of the table, I like to be treated the same way. So imagine my chagrin when I received this today:

This is a life-size cardboard cutout of a man named Dave, a VP from a marketing communications agency I won’t name.

I’m not a marketing expert by any means, but it doesn’t take one to know when a pitch hits the right spot. It must be creative, targeted and engaging. Because your goal is to attract attention and create enough interest to make your audience take action that will add to your ROI –visit your website, ask for a meeting, buy your product.

While Cardboard Dave certainly attracted my (and my coworkers’) attention and created interest, the action I took was probably not what he had in mind. Case in point: Cardboard Dave underwent a Sharpie makeover.

Here is why I think Dave’s pitch failed:

• There was no one waiting at the reception desk to greet me and hand the package to me personally - it was a ditch and run.
• The package was very large and bulky. I had to carry it up two flights of stairs to my desk and almost knocked someone over. Furthermore, my workspace is not very spacious so I don’t know where I’ll keep Cardboard Dave.
• The only part of the package with my name on it was the mailing label on the wrapper. There was no letter addressed to me; all I got was a snazzy, embossed booklet placed in a slot where Cardboard Dave’s hands are. There is nothing personal about it.
• Cardboard Dave promises “favourable impressions” and “better recall” of my organization’s message. It would have been more engaging if their spiel demonstrated some understanding of the ODA’s key messages. And if they did some research, they would have known that while I do wield some influence, I am not the decision-maker of my team.
• There is a page in the booklet listing the associations Dave’s company has “been associated with.” I’m a sucker for semantics – has this organization actually worked for these associations? I once donated money to the Canadian Cancer Society, so technically, I can say I was “associated” with them.
• The last page bears Dave’s signature and information, and has an unusual, if slightly creepy, closing:

I’d like to give you a call
In a couple of days
To see what you think.

Or for pickup. : )   (I’m still trying to figure out what THAT means.)

Overall, these are my immediate impressions:

• The company must be doing well in this economy to spend $200 for each cardboard cutout and booklet, which is what I estimated the package to cost. Are they going to recoup their printing costs through their fees? Because associations are not-for-profit; we answer to our members and have to account for every single cent we spend.
• How many trees were felled to make Cardboard Dave?
• Dave’s ego is so big (“How big is it?”), it can’t fit on a standard business card.
• It would have been more cost-effective, and a nicer touch, if 3D Dave had personally come to my office and spoke to me directly, instead of sending his cardboard representative. Chances are he would have gotten a meeting. Sometimes, tried and true tactics trump snazzy packaging.

I’ll give Dave points for creativity and chutzpah. But like his one-dimensional counterpart, this pitch has left me stiff.

What do you think?