We cover everything from the top cultural conversation – Annie Moore writes on the ubiquitousness of Wicked – and some other stories that deserve more conversation, like David Manitsky’s take on the popularization (and possible further commercialization) of Little League baseball and Nathaniel Beach on the stocking stuffer your loved ones didn’t know they needed: dive bar-scented cologne.

But I want to shout out our Founder and Chairman, Eric Dezenhall, who has a new book dropping in January. Wiseguys and the White House comes out on January 14; the book details the history of presidential ties to organized crime. From FDR to present-day, it’s a fascinating look at the intersection of two topics of intense American interest. My dad is getting a pre-order for Christmas, and yours probably should too.

We end Dez Reads this week with the latest review of Wiseguys and the White House.

Thanks, as always, for reading along with us.

Here we go.

Sports.

Market Brew. The Little League media landscape is looking increasingly big.

As someone who has loved and played baseball my entire life, it’s no surprise that Little League viewership has risen. While Commissioner Manfred has successfully sped up MLB games, which was necessary, the core issue lies in the game’s content. Little League baseball’s success stems from its embodiment of everything fans love about the sport. Little Leaguers bunt, steal, and hit for contact. When they hit a home run, it’s rare, impressive, and well-earned. Today, Major League Baseball is dominated by strikeouts, pop-flies, and unimpressive 300-foot home runs. 

What sets baseball apart from other sports is the game’s unique differences and idiosyncrasies. From the Green Monster and Wrigley Field’s ivy to the unexpected home runs of Bartolo Colon and Craig Lefferts, it’s the odd, obscure moments that make baseball truly captivating.

Today, however, homogeneity is the norm. Every new ballpark strives for the same proportions as others. Pitchers no longer hit. Balls and strikes are now determined objectively rather than by a single umpire’s judgment. All the fun, strange, and weird moments that once defined the sport have vanished from MLB. As a result, true baseball fans such as myself are turning to Little League for a glimpse of the sport they miss.

– David Manitsky

Culture.

Fortune. Miller High Life introduces a dive bar cologne

As a self-proclaimed dive bar enthusiast, I was initially baffled by this headline. I get the appeal of visiting a dive bar, but wanting to smell like one? Absolutely not. My gut reaction was that this idea was doomed to fail—why would anyone pay $40 to smell like stale beer and cigarettes? But the more I thought about it, the more I realized this was actually a great marketing move for Miller High Life.

The concept is so absurd it immediately sparks reactions, generating social media buzz and free publicity. By leaning into its identity as the quintessential dive bar beer, Miller High Life has turned this novelty item into a branding masterstroke. While I won’t be swapping my cologne for “Miller High Life Dive Bar-Fume,” I might just crack open a can of “The Champagne of Beers” this weekend in its honor.

– Nathaniel Beach

Health.

WaPo. Milk chocolate or dark? The answer could affect your risk of diabetes.

A large new study compared the health outcomes linked to consuming dark chocolate vs. milk chocolate.

I’m unhappy with this study. As a milk chocolate person, it bothers me when I read that milk chocolate provides no health benefit and has too much sugar compared to dark chocolate, which may help reduce the likelihood of developing Type 2 diabetes. But there is a serious communications point to make here. I read every word of this article hoping for one piece of good news that can make me feel better about my apparently unhealthy consumption of chocolate chip cookies. In the communications world, we call it “permission seeking.” In layman’s terms, it just means, “I really love this product and don’t want to give it up. Please give me one ounce of hope that can help me justify using it.” You see this reasoning across a large section of controversial consumer goods, from cosmetics, processed foods, and bread to even smartphones. It’s reflected in communications narratives along the lines of, “Yes, this toy or cosmetic includes this chemical, but it’s a tiny amount, and studies show it’s large amounts over long periods that cause a higher risk of cancer.” 

I found the “permission” I was seeking in this one sentence in the article: “The authors of the new study cautioned that their findings showed only a correlation between dark chocolate and diabetes risk, not causation.” That’s all I needed to hear.  

– Steven Schlein

Media.

LinkedIn. Defying Gravity: How Wicked Transformed Into a $360M+(and growing) Blockbuster

I tend to attract musical theater people. Not kidding. My first friend in college? Musical theater. My now best friend I randomly met at a charity event? Musical theater. My old hairdresser? He’s literally on a Broadway tour right now. So despite my own lack of knowledge, I’ve come to appreciate a good musical and understand what it takes to make it in that industry. Seeing Wicked live in London last Christmas and then watching the new film adaptation last week has me reflecting on what it takes to successfully turn a beloved show, play, or film into a musical movie. Mean Girls… flopped. The Joker musical with Lady Gaga… only made $20 million opening weekend. This article does a great job of explaining why the marketing for Wicked was genius, but really what I think it all boils down to is leaning into your roots, letting people know that it is, in fact, a musical, and innovating enough that you can attract new audiences without alienating OG fans. If you haven’t seen Wicked yet, it’s definitely worth the 2.5 hours and $20 to go see it in theaters.

– Annie Moore

Book Review.

Kirkus. Wiseguys and the White House: Gangsters, Presidents and the Deals They Made.

Journalist Dezenhall, author of Best of Enemies: The Last Great Spy Story of the Cold War, opens by warning that America’s fascination with mobsters owes much to pop-culture fantasy. It exists, but the reality lacks the “cool and sexually dangerous” efficiency of the movies. With this disclaimer, he proceeds with an often stunning account of gangsters and presidential politics. After summarizing pre-20th-century skullduggery (much corruption, little organized crime), he introduces Franklin D. Roosevelt, probably the first to make use of mobsters. As patriotic as most Americans, they were happy during World War II to order dock union workers and Italian fishing fleets to keep their eyes out for U-boats and spies, but few turned up. Harry Truman owed more to organized crime than other presidents. Loyal to Tom Pendergast’s corrupt Kansas City machine, Truman hit the jackpot when the preferred candidates decided not to run for the U.S. Senate in 1934. Dezenhall maintains that Truman probably never accepted a bribe and considered dealing with mobsters a necessary evil in politics. Eisenhower gets off scot-free, but that the Kennedys pestered surprisingly reluctant mafiosi to assassinate Fidel Castro is beyond doubt. Nixon gets off lightly, except for his cultivation of the notorious Jimmy Hoffa, a rare union leader who favored Republicans. Dezenhall’s expansive definition of “organized crime” is on display in his description of President Reagan, beginning with the young actor riding the coattails of cutthroat Hollywood entrepreneurs and shady lawyers, whose influence he never entirely escaped. As for Donald Trump, the author writes of how the 45th president inherited a real estate empire and loved being rich and ruthless and associating with other rich and ruthless people. Alone among presidents, he boasted that he could deal with gangsters because he was as smart as they were.

Entertaining history in which mobsters often come off better than presidents.

– Kirkus Reviews

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