jackrussell
Last of the Duke Street Kings
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WE'RE DOOMED!
:laugh2:
Has soup cursed the careers of some NFL stars?
Thursday, July 26, 2007
By ED BALINT
REPOSITORY STAFF WRITER
LINK
CANTON Pick your favorite — vegetable beef, chicken noodle, clam chowder or a hearty helping of chili.
No matter what the variety, Campbell’s Chunky Soup is a staple of many food pantries, especially in the winter months when a heaping bowl of hot soup is nirvana.
But Chunky Soup is also known for something less wholesome — cursing the careers of some NFL stars who have endorsed the soup: Terrell Davis, Kurt Warner, Donovan McNabb, Ben Roethlisberger.
Don’t laugh. Believers are out there. True believers. But even they get a charge out of the curse and take it half-seriously. Chunky Soup has joined the Sports Illustrated cover jinx in the annals of sports superstitions.
There even is a Web site (www.chunkysoupcurse.com) devoted to it, complete with pages of entries documenting the supposed curse. There’s a tip line, too, so NFL fans can dutifully report evidence of the sinister spell.
For example, last season, one of the reports, tinged with humor, is titled, “Chunky Soup scores big in Week 7.”
“Campbell’s Chunky Soup, the most dangerous soup not served in a Thai restaurant, launched the largest sneak attack since the defeat of the Romans at the Battle of Teutoburg, viciously injuring both Matt Hasselbeck and Roethlisberger and inflicting a humiliating late-game loss on Donovan McNabb.”
The curse is quoted, too.
CURSE OR COINCIDENCE?
John Crawford does not claim to have created or discovered the Chunky Soup Curse. Crawford, however, with the help of a friend, William Krausmann, established what he believes is the first and only extensive Web site devoted purely to the soup superstition. He does it for fun, forking over $7 a year to register the domain name.
So what inspired the Web site? A motorcycle crash by Pittsburgh quarterback Ben Roethlisberger.
While watching news coverage of the event thatshook the collective sports psyche of Pittsburgh, Crawford made the Chunky Soup connection. Roethlisberger had been scheduled to film a commercial the next day for Chunky Soup, said John Faulkner, spokesman for the Campbell Soup Co.
Bingo. From Super Bowl hero to riding in the back of an ambulance. Could Chunky Soup be the culprit? Maybe, Crawford thought, the epiphany eventually resulting in the elaborate Web site.
Crawford, 29, who designs Web sites and computer databases, admits he’s not even sure the curse is real. He’s quick to poke fun at himself and his mini-obsession with Chunky. Most of his comments end with a hearty chuckle, and tongue planted firmly in cheek.
Does he like football?
“Ah, geez, I grew up in Pennsylvania,’’ he said, ‘‘and I was a Steelers fan. Oh Lord, it’s required.
“In Pittsburgh, when Ben Roethlisberger had that accident, when the curse attacked him ... it was the equivalent of the pope being shot — it was that equivalent on the local news; they ran it nonstop.”
WARNER’S EXAMPLE
Crawford, who lives in Punxsutawney, Pa., says the helmet hex can be misunderstood and misrepresented.
“That’s the one mistake people make about the curse, it has nothing to do with winning, it just has to do with being debilitated and mangled so you can’t win.”
“The curse is not a direct path to failure, it’s a weird thing,” Crawford added. “In that regard, the curse is sneaky, the curse is subtle, not quite Shakespearean, but sneaky.”
For example, there’s the story of Kurt Warner, who emerged out of obscurity, one of the few players to leap from the Arena Football League to NFL stardom. He was league MVP and won a Super Bowl with the St. Louis Rams.
After a Super Bowl loss, the soup pitchman’s career took a dive. He injured his hand and left the Rams to play for the chronically dismal Arizona Cardinals, a fate that Crawford considers worse than not playing at all.
Despite the Internet buzz the curse has generated, it’s still a relatively obscure and underground phenomenon, Crawford acknowledged, estimating that “one half of one -half percent” knows or gives a darn about the alleged curse. “It’s obviously not mainstream, it’s not something that’s on the mind of most football fans,” he said.
One theory, which Crawford doesn’t “completely endorse,” is the curse started because actresses played the mothers of players in the original commercials. Real mothers have since appeared in commercials.
“First off, I think you have to keep a story simple,” Crawford said, bursting into laughter. “You can have an evil destructive curse; I don’t necessarily think it needs a motive.”
CAMPBELL’S RESPONSE
Faulkner, the Campbell’s spokesman, said Chunky Soup fits well with the NFL. For one, the sport is played during soup season, from Labor Day through the Super Bowl.
“We don’t prescribe to the idea there’s a curse, and we’re somewhat amused by the discussion,” he said.
“We pick pro players that are high profile and fairly high profile,” Crawford said. “They’re on the field and they’re playing positions that are right in the middle of the mix — the reality of the (NFL) is it’s a hard-hitting league and players do get injured.”
But Faulkner credits the curse for helping to raise Chunky’s profile. Sales of the soup have doubled since the NFL commercials began in the late 1990s, he said.
“It’s been a solid engine for our soup portfolio, and we certainly believe our association with the NFL players has helped drive that,” Faulkner said.
Faulkner equates it to the Sports Illustrated jinx, adding that players do not typically turn down the opportunity to grace the cover of the iconic sports magazine.
Chunky Soup is an official sponsor of the NFL. This football season’s campaign features eight players, including 2006 NFL MVP LaDainian Tomlinson of the San Diego Chargers.
“We haven’t had anybody say we don’t want to be part of the Chunky Soup campaign because of the Chunky curse,” Faulkner said.
Reach Repository writer Ed Balint at (330) 580-8315 or e-mail: ed.balint@cantonrep.com
:laugh2:
Has soup cursed the careers of some NFL stars?
Thursday, July 26, 2007
By ED BALINT
REPOSITORY STAFF WRITER
LINK
CANTON Pick your favorite — vegetable beef, chicken noodle, clam chowder or a hearty helping of chili.
No matter what the variety, Campbell’s Chunky Soup is a staple of many food pantries, especially in the winter months when a heaping bowl of hot soup is nirvana.
But Chunky Soup is also known for something less wholesome — cursing the careers of some NFL stars who have endorsed the soup: Terrell Davis, Kurt Warner, Donovan McNabb, Ben Roethlisberger.
Don’t laugh. Believers are out there. True believers. But even they get a charge out of the curse and take it half-seriously. Chunky Soup has joined the Sports Illustrated cover jinx in the annals of sports superstitions.
There even is a Web site (www.chunkysoupcurse.com) devoted to it, complete with pages of entries documenting the supposed curse. There’s a tip line, too, so NFL fans can dutifully report evidence of the sinister spell.
For example, last season, one of the reports, tinged with humor, is titled, “Chunky Soup scores big in Week 7.”
“Campbell’s Chunky Soup, the most dangerous soup not served in a Thai restaurant, launched the largest sneak attack since the defeat of the Romans at the Battle of Teutoburg, viciously injuring both Matt Hasselbeck and Roethlisberger and inflicting a humiliating late-game loss on Donovan McNabb.”
The curse is quoted, too.
CURSE OR COINCIDENCE?
John Crawford does not claim to have created or discovered the Chunky Soup Curse. Crawford, however, with the help of a friend, William Krausmann, established what he believes is the first and only extensive Web site devoted purely to the soup superstition. He does it for fun, forking over $7 a year to register the domain name.
So what inspired the Web site? A motorcycle crash by Pittsburgh quarterback Ben Roethlisberger.
While watching news coverage of the event thatshook the collective sports psyche of Pittsburgh, Crawford made the Chunky Soup connection. Roethlisberger had been scheduled to film a commercial the next day for Chunky Soup, said John Faulkner, spokesman for the Campbell Soup Co.
Bingo. From Super Bowl hero to riding in the back of an ambulance. Could Chunky Soup be the culprit? Maybe, Crawford thought, the epiphany eventually resulting in the elaborate Web site.
Crawford, 29, who designs Web sites and computer databases, admits he’s not even sure the curse is real. He’s quick to poke fun at himself and his mini-obsession with Chunky. Most of his comments end with a hearty chuckle, and tongue planted firmly in cheek.
Does he like football?
“Ah, geez, I grew up in Pennsylvania,’’ he said, ‘‘and I was a Steelers fan. Oh Lord, it’s required.
“In Pittsburgh, when Ben Roethlisberger had that accident, when the curse attacked him ... it was the equivalent of the pope being shot — it was that equivalent on the local news; they ran it nonstop.”
WARNER’S EXAMPLE
Crawford, who lives in Punxsutawney, Pa., says the helmet hex can be misunderstood and misrepresented.
“That’s the one mistake people make about the curse, it has nothing to do with winning, it just has to do with being debilitated and mangled so you can’t win.”
“The curse is not a direct path to failure, it’s a weird thing,” Crawford added. “In that regard, the curse is sneaky, the curse is subtle, not quite Shakespearean, but sneaky.”
For example, there’s the story of Kurt Warner, who emerged out of obscurity, one of the few players to leap from the Arena Football League to NFL stardom. He was league MVP and won a Super Bowl with the St. Louis Rams.
After a Super Bowl loss, the soup pitchman’s career took a dive. He injured his hand and left the Rams to play for the chronically dismal Arizona Cardinals, a fate that Crawford considers worse than not playing at all.
Despite the Internet buzz the curse has generated, it’s still a relatively obscure and underground phenomenon, Crawford acknowledged, estimating that “one half of one -half percent” knows or gives a darn about the alleged curse. “It’s obviously not mainstream, it’s not something that’s on the mind of most football fans,” he said.
One theory, which Crawford doesn’t “completely endorse,” is the curse started because actresses played the mothers of players in the original commercials. Real mothers have since appeared in commercials.
“First off, I think you have to keep a story simple,” Crawford said, bursting into laughter. “You can have an evil destructive curse; I don’t necessarily think it needs a motive.”
CAMPBELL’S RESPONSE
Faulkner, the Campbell’s spokesman, said Chunky Soup fits well with the NFL. For one, the sport is played during soup season, from Labor Day through the Super Bowl.
“We don’t prescribe to the idea there’s a curse, and we’re somewhat amused by the discussion,” he said.
“We pick pro players that are high profile and fairly high profile,” Crawford said. “They’re on the field and they’re playing positions that are right in the middle of the mix — the reality of the (NFL) is it’s a hard-hitting league and players do get injured.”
But Faulkner credits the curse for helping to raise Chunky’s profile. Sales of the soup have doubled since the NFL commercials began in the late 1990s, he said.
“It’s been a solid engine for our soup portfolio, and we certainly believe our association with the NFL players has helped drive that,” Faulkner said.
Faulkner equates it to the Sports Illustrated jinx, adding that players do not typically turn down the opportunity to grace the cover of the iconic sports magazine.
Chunky Soup is an official sponsor of the NFL. This football season’s campaign features eight players, including 2006 NFL MVP LaDainian Tomlinson of the San Diego Chargers.
“We haven’t had anybody say we don’t want to be part of the Chunky Soup campaign because of the Chunky curse,” Faulkner said.
Reach Repository writer Ed Balint at (330) 580-8315 or e-mail: ed.balint@cantonrep.com
