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Spirit
of Aloha | Features
| November/December 2007
The Sporting Life
By: Joan Conrow
HOW HAWAI‘I FOOTBALL
MET HOLLYWOOD AND GOT A FACELIT

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“Show me the money!”
If you’ve ever heard or used that phrase, you may thank Leigh Steinberg, the famed agent whose real-life clients and career became a silver-screen script for the 1996 larger-than-life blockbuster film, Jerry Maguire, by famed writer/director Cameron Crowe.
Art doesn’t imitate life, because Steinberg puts the fictional Maguire to shame. Widely regarded as the most prolific sports management executive in history, Steinberg has negotiated more than $2 billion in deals for his clients and pioneered the convergence of the sports and entertainment industries.
Which is why, when the University of Hawai‘i’s multitude of football marketing problems swelled to painful proportions in the posterior of Coach June Jones, it’s no surprise where he went to find immediate relief: Leigh Steinberg.
When Jones and Steinberg met in 1977—Jones was an unheralded NFL free agent rooming with veteran quarterback Steve Bartkowski of the Atlanta Falcons—there had been instant chemistry.
“June is my type of guy,” says Steinberg. “He is a Leonardo-type man of all seasons. He reads books and newspapers. He had theories on economics and religion, sports and theology. He followed the stock market. He put me into investments, like the plastic eggs that hold prizes in vending machines, and we made a killing. He had a probing, intellectual mind. It could be opal mines in Brazil, plastic eggs, DMSO, which smelled god-awful … he is just a completely intriguing character.”
So in 1999 when June Jones turned to Leigh to help him with Hawai‘i football, he wasn’t knocking on the door of a super agent, he was merely seeking wisdom and counsel from a long-trusted friend.
Every marketing recipe requires similar key ingredients: people, product and process. If Hawai‘i football was going to be mainstream on the Mainland within five years, it would need to simmer with all three.
To change Hawai‘i’s athletic culture, he and June would begin with its people.
The entire state would become a selling point and the Island’s culture would be its battle cry.
“Hawai‘i is a special place,” Steinberg says. “The scent of flowers, the spirituality, the magic and the warmth you can instantly feel. These people are some of the most loving on the face of the earth. There are no strangers. It’s unlike anything else. The ocean, the birds, the land—the inner peace—this football team had to stand for all of those things.”
Next up was product, where the image had to change.
“We had to re-envision what the product could be,” Steinberg continues. “Any time you bring about change to the product, there’s always some resistance. But we were less concerned with stepping on toes and more concerned with what the football program and athletic program could be from a marketing standpoint.
How could we re-energize the revenue sources? How could the Athletic Department become competitive with Mainland programs in the 21st century?
How could it pull major corporate sponsors?”
Finally, they decided on the process.
“A sporting experience has a process,” Steinberg says. “Watching a game live—how could we attract more fans in the stands? How could we improve the game experience? The process of watching it on TV—how can we make that a better experience for the television viewer or for the potential recruit? How can we take advantage of the positioning in the Pacific Rim? How can we bring in athletes from Japan and China to broaden our demographics? Can we have later start times that would enable us to have a Mainland TV package?”
Jones and Steinberg sketched out a plan. No longer would Hawaiian, Samoan and Polynesian players be the exception—they would become the rule. You play Hawai‘i, you play Hawai‘i.
They pitched ESPN on a late-night TV package. ESPN loved the idea.
Jones started lobbing political footballs to reduce or eliminate his million-dollar overhead at Aloha Stadium. Due to bureaucracy, that one would take some time.
To develop a new brand, they turned to Kaua‘i native and Kapa‘a High School graduate Kurt Osaki. An award-winning designer, Osaki’s signature works included new logos and uniforms for the San Francisco 49ers, Miami Dolphins, Tampa Bay Buccaneers and Baltimore Ravens.
“When I asked June what his goals were for the program and the brand, he said, ‘To win a national championship at the University of Hawai‘i,’” Osaki says. “I’ll never forget it.”
Everyone agreed the new brand should pupukahi i holomua—or unite and move forward. Over an eight-month period, Osaki’s firm interviewed more than 200 people who represented a cross-section of the University and the local community. First, they arrived at the “tapa,” where the three triangles represent “body, mind and spirit,” as well as teamwork. In Hawaiian culture, three symbolizes teamwork; if one stumbles, two remain to support a fallen comrade in the true spirit of ‘ohana.
Second, they settled on the “H,” which immediately embraced the entire state—outer islands included—as well as the program. Like the Tennessee “T” or the Michigan “M,” the “H” would be the traditional Hawai‘i monogram.
Third, they selected green as a color of growth and hope, in the same shade as the lush green valley of Mänoa. Silver was taken from the shimmering reflections of the daily rainfall. Black was added for accent and contrast, and the package was complete.
Next on the agenda was music. June had met five-time Grammy and Emmy award-winning composer Mike Post on the golf course, and he didn’t hesitate to call his friend. Post had owned property in Hawai‘i for nearly three decades, and he leapt at the opportunity to do something for the University. He produced theme songs for starting lineups, kickoffs and goal-line stands. The unmistakable beating of drums and warrior chants would now resonate through Aloha Stadium like thunder in support of the new Warriors.
Post donated his award-winning compositions (all of which can be heard on warriorsrespond.com) to the University at no charge.
Jones would later add silver helmets for the road, further extending the Hawai‘i brand. “Recruits get off the plane wearing our stuff when they visit us,” Jones says. “Overnight, we became one of the hottest properties in college sports.” Other universities called Osaki to request that he help them with something “as powerful and recognizable” as what he had done for Hawai‘i.
“It’s my proudest accomplishment,” Osaki says.
Not everyone instantly agreed. Purists blasted Jones for discarding the once-beloved Rainbow. Local TV news anchor Joe Moore, livid after Jones scrapped the music from Hawai‘i Five-0, would chastise Jones early and often on the air.
The definition of a pioneer, however, is a man with arrows in his back; Jones ignored his detractors and simply forged ahead.
Steinberg merely smiles when he reflects on his client’s accomplishments.
“When he took the job, people simply overlooked the considerable resources June has,” he says. “If we trace all the way back through this story, you have all of the people that June has worked with, like me, or coached, like Warren Moon, as part of the Hawai‘i package. They not only got a great coach, but they got the biggest names and marketing people in sports. We beat the drums. We changed the logo. We reshaped the literature. We re-branded the program. Jones epitomizes the pride of Hawai‘i. He took risks. He took criticism. But don’t forget—he made the right decisions, not necessarily the popular ones at those times.”

(Excerpted with permission from Hawai‘i Warrior Football:
A Story of Faith, Hope and Redemption, by J. David Miller. Foreword by June Jones. Published by Bess Press, Honolulu, 2007.
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