When a guy watches sports, he thinks of three things: the game itself, the cheerleaders and beer. That's why I want to take this time to salute my favorite marketing team: the brains behind the advertising for Coors Light.
Some companies might think taste is important when designing a beverage. But not Coors Light. The method to their madness is the gear that comes along with that beverage. I mean who cares about taste when you have a sweet can to drink from? Certainly not me.
Miller Lite thinks it's useful to advertise its award-winning great taste. Miller High Life dubs itself the "Champagne of Beers". Bud Light calls itself the "King of Beers" and emphasizes its drinkability (not that anyone knows what that means either, but at least its very drinkable). Red Stripe celebrates its beer, hooray beer! Corona chooses to be miles away from ordinary, dare they say an extraordinary beer that's perfect for rest and relaxation during hot summer days on the beaches with beautiful women. Dos Equis has the most interesting man in the world telling you he doesn't always drink beer, but when he does, he prefers Dos Equis!
Then there's Coors Light: The Silver Bullet, The Most Refreshing Beer in the World, The Coldest Beer in the World!
I'm pretty sure I could take any beer, put it in subzero Arctic temperatures, and that would be the coldest beer in the world. It's a slogan founded on lies.
Let's break down Coors Light's go-to innovations:
The Vented Wide Mouth Can
Claim to Fame: It's wider opening lets air in to allow for a smooth, refreshing pour.
When I'm trying to get drunk, there's nothing that matters more to me than a smooth, refreshing pour. Nothing says great taste like a refreshing pour. How can a pour even be refreshing? Do I feel more awake and lively because I'm satisfied by the way the liquid disbursed from the can? What exactly does this do for me? How does the pour serve any purpose to my satisfaction with the beer? Anyone? No? Okay, let's move on.
Cold Activated Can
Versatility: Can or Bottle (12 fl. oz. & 24 fl. oz.)
Claim to Fame: When the mountains turn blue your can/bottle is certifiably cold.
I'm sorry, is Coors Light a product for people with sensory processing disorders? Do they think their consumers are all idiots? How pathetic do they think the citizens of America are if they don't even believe a person can pick up a can of Coors Light and be able to tell whether its cold or not? Coca-Cola doesn't seem to think we need a cold activated Coke can. Their consistent strategy of relying on the human intellect to use its sense of touch to decide whether the can is at an enjoyable temperature has been quite effective over the years.
Versatility: Plastic Bottles (not sure why it only works for plastic, but whatever)
Claim to Fame: Allows you to pile on the ice and chill your refreshing Coors Light.
Here they go again with that refreshment mumbo jumbo. Last time I checked, Gatorade and water were refreshing. Jumping into a pool or running throw a sprinkler on a hot summer day was refreshing. Oh, and drinking beer dehydrates your body. I'm not saying it can't be refreshing. But that's really not the intent of beer. Anyways, I'll give Coors the benefit of the doubt on this one. There's nothing wrong with an 18-pack that doubles as a cooler. It's a quality tailgating scene product. Well, if you were drinking a beer with taste. But still, I like what they tried to do there.
Cold Activation Window
Claim to Fame: So you know your beers cold before you buy it.
The actors literally have to come off as idiots to pull off making the product seem somewhat useful. I think I'd rather trust the stores refrigeration system or spend the extra $1.79 on ice than succumb to the fact that I need to see a blue mountain on my can to know that my beer is cold. Refrigerator shelves in these stores are set up on a first-in, first-out basis. That means cases have plenty of time to chill before they reach the front of the line for consumer-taking. Especially beers with bad taste.
When it all comes down to it, Coors Light's marketing campaign is plain and simple: Our beer doesn't taste good. Even we don't think so. But let us distract you with our cool cans, and windows, and weather-changing trains that cruise through towns and beaches on hot summer days so you'll buy our bad-tasting beer anyways.
Bad businesses should take a page out of Coors Light's book. They've managed to market a low-quality taste to perfection. Their ploys to distract people from the underlying fact that their beer isn't that good might actually be working. Some might argue the relatively affordable price does the trick. But that's what we have Natty Light, Keystone and PBR for. Coors continues to hang around in the highly competitive market for beer. Seeing a low-quality product survive in such a competitive market gives my sports writing a glimmer of hope.
Now that's refreshing.