Celebrity endorsements have been around forever, but I’ve always had this lingering question: do the celebrities actually use the products they endorse? And how hard do they work to avoid using the competition?
Back in the 1980s, I saw a master of marketing pull off a slick move with the stealth of a ninja.
Wayne Gretzky—yes, The Great One—was the face of a major Coca-Cola campaign in the late ’80s. At the time, I was working as a photographer for the Colorado Rangers Hockey Club. There was an exhibition game at McNichols Arena: the Los Angeles Kings vs. the Quebec Nordiques.
It was a big deal—an effort to reignite interest in hockey in Colorado after we’d lost the Colorado Rockies. And no, not the baseball team. The real Colorado Rockies were an NHL team that eventually became the New Jersey Devils. (Fun fact: the Quebec Nordiques? They’re now the Colorado Avalanche. And the original Colorado Avalanche back in the ’80s? A professional indoor soccer team. Colorado loves to recycle names across sports. Creative? Not really.)
Gretzky was a star with the Kings by then, but he wasn’t expected to play much that night. I only snapped a few decent photos of him, one of which I’ve included in this post. But the real highlight came after the game, in the locker room.
As a member of the press, I had access to the players, and I got the chance to chat with him. We talked about growing up in Canada and what it was like for him to move to L.A. I had also met his brother, who played in the International Hockey League (IHL), so there was a bit of a connection.
Now, here’s where it gets good.
Denver is a Pepsi town. Always has been. We had the Pepsi Center for years, and Pepsi had the city’s venue contracts. After the game, Gretzky wanted a soda—but there wasn’t a single can of Coke in the building. And nobody had thought to bring any for the star of the Coke campaign.
But Wayne knew how to handle it. He quietly called over a locker room attendant and asked him to crack open a can of soda—didn’t matter which kind—and pour it into a plain glass. Then he told him to set it on a table in the back corner of the room and walk away.
After we wrapped up our conversation, I watched as he casually strolled across the locker room. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, picked up the glass, and enjoyed a nice, cold Pepsi.
The only people who knew were the attendant and me. And we weren’t talking.
This is the first time I’ve shared that story in over 35 years.
Gretzky had integrity. He understood what it meant to stand behind an endorsement, even when the cameras were off. In all my years working in hockey, there were only a handful of people I didn’t respect. Wayne Gretzky? He was the real deal—a gentleman and one of the greatest athletes I’ve ever met.