By Fraser P. Seitel
By now, most folks have heard the saga of Notre Dame All American linebacker Manti Te’o and his imaginary girl friend.
The story of beloved Lennay Kekua, whom Te’o wooed for three years, right up until the day she was involved in a horrible car accident, diagnosed with leukemia, and died three days before her devoted Manti recorded 12 tackles in an upset win over Michigan State, was well known to every fan of the Fighting Irish.
It was love fable that not even Lance Armstrong could have concocted. It was sweet, it was noble, it was brave, and, as we learned two weeks ago, it was baloney.
Since that beacon of investigative journalism, Deadspin.com, spilled the beans on Manti and his university and his imaginary girlfriend, the scandal-seeking public has been fixated on one question, “What did Manti know and when did he know it?” (Maybe that’s two questions.)
Even if you believe that Manti Te’o was telling the truth that he was “duped” by and not a willing participant in the girlfriend hoax, here’s how Team Te’o still fumbled the public relations ball.
Lying, of course, is the cardinal sin of public relations.
Te’o, as he haltingly confessed to Couric, lied in two interviews about his imaginary girl friend, even after telling Notre Dame Administrators the whole thing was a hoax.
“Katie put yourself in my situation. Everybody knew that this girl I committed myself to, died on Sept.. 12. You know, what would you do?”
How ‘bout this.
First, if I was Notre Dame and I agreed that we would prefer that nothing be said until after the Bowl Game with Alabama, I would have cancelled the Te’o interviews. Of course, reporters would’ve been mad; but what’s worse, a couple of angry reporters or a lying linebacker?
Bad advice. Bad decision.
- Second, Notre Dame rushed out too early.
As soon as the Te’o hoax was exposed, Notre Dame Athletic Director Jack Swarbrick conducted a press conference, tearfully vouching for the impeccable integrity of his star.
Unfortunately, evidently nobody cued Manti that his alma mater was going public. He was nowhere to be found, so Swarbrick’s ringing defense was followed up by silence.
Two days later, with Manti still off the radar screen, a starting-to-get-a bit ticked Swarbrick, said the school had “encouraged” Manti to come forward.
“Encouraged?”
Why wouldn’t Notre Dame have orchestrated Te’o – or at least checked with him – prior to its going public.
Nature and reporters abhor a vacuum, and they fill it – as they did in this case – with all sorts of rumor and innuendo.
Notre Dame’s “ready, fire, aim” press relations backfired resoundingly on the school’s silent star.
- Third, Te’o fumbled the timing.
Crisis managers talk about the early part of a crisis, as the “golden hour” that sets the tone. Sometimes the “golden hour” can be a day or even a week.
But nobody heard anything from Manti until two weeks after the Deadspin “Blarney” piece.
One reason the Te’o team didn’t let their boy face the media in a more timely manner was that they were jockeying for just the right interviewee, reportedly pitting Katie against Diane and Oprah. (In the end, it was Couric –coincidentally represented by the same public relations advisor who represented Te’o – who was selected.)
In the meantime, the advisors concocted a ridiculous, pre-Katie “off camera” interview with ESPN, where an invisible Te’o claimed his innocence.
While the public waited for Te’o to come forward, the linebacker’s credibility – and presumed position in the NFL draft – continued to wither.
- Fourth, Te’o fumbled the story.
While Te’o and Notre Dame first trumpeted that the Heisman runner up was victimized by a hoax, it was later revealed that Te’o subsequently lied about the phony relationship so as “not to distract the team” in advance of the Alabama game.
So right out of the box, Te’o sounded inconsistent.
And when the blessed day finally arrived and Te’o sat down to tell his story to Couric, client Manti was torpedoed by client Katie.
The Couric program, eager to promote its big “get” leaked early clips that Te’o admitted “lying” about imaginary Lennay. Sure enough, the “lie” was what the media ran with.
The best thing that can happen to young Te’o is the story now dies. If what he says is true, then he was dumb but not duplicitous. He was also ill-served by his university and his crisis management advisors.
If he succeeds in the NFL, then all will be forgotten over time. But largely due to this bizarre drama in which he, wittingly or un, has been centrally cast, he begins his NFL career as “damaged goods.”
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Joe Honick, GMA International Ltd (1/25):
Fraser, the people who have fumbled are the media and others who have helped to make this story important way out of any logical reality. During a week when the nation begins a new presidential term, it does not matter a damn for us and the media to fill our time with the trials of a troubled young man.
Veep (1/25):
I love a good crisis as much as the next flack, but am I alone in wishing that this story would just go away?
Didn't Notre Dame get embarrassed enough in the championship game? Actually, no. What is better than Notre Dame schadenfreude?!
Wes Pedersen (1/25):
How many shrinks has this kid seen? How many PR reps are advusubg/confushing him now?
Bill Huey (1/25):
What is this? The Hawaiian version of country music?
Te'o should take a page from Lance Armstrong's book and confess not to doping but to being a dope.
And that Katie Couric is a little sneak--talking to Manti about Lennay as if she were real, luring him in. Her PR rep should upbraid her resoundingly (oh, that's right, Katie is paying a much fatter fee than Manti).
God, I can't wait 'til baseball season!
[email protected] (1/30):
At least he didn't have to spend big bucks on dating. |