Ad insanity is eclipsing March Madness

In an era when commercials already eat up more time than the game, could March Madness go from “can’t miss” to “can’t stand” television? Ratings for last year’s championship between Michigan and Villanova were down a staggering 28 percent, drawing only 16.5 million viewers compared to nearly 23 million the year before when North Carolina beat Gonzaga. True, one year doesn’t make a trend, and viewership has been mostly stable since 2010. But what about viewer satisfaction?

At present, it’s a good guess that millions of viewers are losing patience with endless games brought on by an avalanche of 15, 30 and 60-second TV commercials. Add to that the boredom of referee reviews that can last three minutes or more, and mind-numbing team and TV timeouts that often kill the flow of the game. In 2014, ESPN’s Deadspin Magazine clocked the last minute of 52 March Madness games and found eight that lasted between ten and 14 minutes; the average for all 52 was about six minutes.

Long delays for commercial breaks, timeouts and video replays have become so pervasive that 58 percent of cable and satellite subscribers now try to DVR-proof games. But those who watch on a delayed basis and fast-forward through the clutter still can’t avoid “soft” in-game ads that include signage on everything from the arena roof, to the court itself and to digitally embedded ads that look like part of the venue. In addition, announcers often read so-called “billboards” thanking corporate sponsors. At the 2019 Atlantic Coast Conference basketball tournament, an “official corporate champion” had its name plastered on just about everything.

What the omnipresence of ads makes clear is that NCAA sports telecasts – March Madness in particular -- are even more commercial than professional football and basketball games. Unlike the NFL and the NBA, NCAA telecasts serve to promote enrollment at featured universities, encourage alumni giving and boost the NCAA itself. Even so, ad spending on March Madness runs a close second to the NFL—$1.3 billion to $1.6 billion in 2019, according to Kantar Media, a company specializing in media intelligence. A 30-second spot during the NCAA post-season championship cost $1.5 million in 2015.

Like other sports content providers, the NCAA and the networks that air March Madness are keenly aware of viewer resistance to being bombarded with ads. Split screens – what broadcasters call the “double box” – are now being used to weave ads into broadcasts seamlessly. While an ad runs in one box, game action is shown in the other; once the ad pitch ends, game action returns to full screen. But the double box can be highly distracting, which may explain why it’s only used when game action slows down.

A major headache for sports leagues and their advertisers is that attention spans keep getting shorter and shorter. Few moments in sports are more exciting than a basketball “run” in which one team scores in bunches—especially at the frenetic pace, say, of the North Carolina Tar Heels. The beauty of those moments, their choreographed feel, is what viewers prize most of all. Any attempt to cut into a run like that provokes angry howls from viewers. The intensity of magic moments get fans all riled up, give them something special to talk about at the gym the next day. Any ad that intrudes on that space diminishes a sport millions of Americans love.

Included most prominently in the March Madness audience are young males, one of the most sought-after and difficult-to-reach demographics, one advertisers spend big to reach. Young males, as a group, have grown up with streaming, commercial-free content that can be viewed on multiple platforms. Their patience may be much more limited than their fancestors, an industry term for older viewers.

The NCAA needs to scale back on ads, video replays and timeouts before it’s too late. It lost a landmark antitrust case in 1984 that ended its monopoly over college football broadcasts. It lost important but less impactful antitrust cases in 2014 and again this year. The NCAA has never sought an antitrust exemption, but maybe it should. Otherwise, it could lose its monopoly power to organize and regulate March Madness. If its championships are perceived as money-grubbing in nature, eventually the NCAA will lose public trust and the right to stage a post-season championship that has become a national rite of spring, one that earns nearly as much as the NFL playoffs and Super Bowl combined.

John LeBar and Allen Paul have a forthcoming book: “The Rise and Fall of the Scholar-Athlete: Searching for Sanity in Big-Time College Sports.”