CASE STUDY 011: Bullish On Obscurity - The Curious Case of The New York Red Bulls
Obscurity is defined in two primary ways. It can be “the state of being unknown, inconspicuous, or unimportant”, or it can be “the quality of being difficult to understand”. In Studio14’s recent trip to Sports Illustrated Stadium, we surmised that what was going on in Harrison NJ was anything but unimportant. Equally, to deny the obscurity of the existence of the NY Red Bulls would be a complete and utter short-coming in our analysis. It is that precise quality of “being unknown” that struck us in our field study. How is it possible that a team representing an area of over 23 million people, in a country of over 300 million people, nearly wins its domestic championship and remains an unknown quantity in every sense of the phrase?
Owned by an energy drink conglomerate, playing in a relatively isolated part of a state that is not the one in their name, the New York Red Bulls naturally get a decent amount of grief from the US and local New York soccer communities. Local sentiment often alludes to the notion that NY Red Bulls are a soulless club. A prop for marketing a highly-caffeinated sports drink. Out of site, out of mind. With their matches being played several miles to the West of the Hudson River, their address is an artifact in the case for their obscurity. Many fans here in New York believe that. Many soccer journalists, both domestic and abroad, remind us of this regularly. With that all said, our recent experience has served as a stark counter to the “soullessness” sentiments. Perhaps this club is just “difficult to understand”?
11 years on from the Thierry Henry era, when the franchise was able to attract match-going fans off the talent of one man alone, fan motivations have shifted en masse. The match-day experience in Harrison felt a bit older than anything we typically see in this country. It felt like a routine. Beautiful, beautiful routine. It was someone’s ritual. Somebody's tradition. There were partners, parents, and kids. Old friends, new friends, and first-timers. Candidly speaking, it was really lovely to see. Guardian Football Journalist, Jonathan Liew recently wrote a piece titled, “Preston’s attempts to bore Aston Villa to distraction crumble like pastry” in which he wonderfully articulates how a historic English club, maintains a strong fansbase that routinely flock to matches only to see a team that is “Neither good nor bad. But [their club] provides thousands with a ritual and routine. It’s cheap, it’s hearty, it’s local and it’s real.” We left the stadium yesterday and reflected upon an experience that “was cheap, hearty, local, and real.”
Hipsters and teamsters. College kids and parents. We saw beanies and cuffed pants. Earrings and tattoos. Minivans and Capri Sun. An eclectic group of match-going fans to say the least, but no-less a “real” group. The beauty of obscurity, the beauty of being truly an unknown quantity, is that you remain undefined. There are no lines that indicate whether you belong or not because there are no lines at all. Short on true fans, the ones that show up are loved on-site: welcomed with open arms into the beauty of Obscurity.
