The city’s tabloid-worthy divorce with its biggest
star since Shaquille O’Neal has spurned a confusing flurry of emotions - a
cognitive dissonance of sorts - between fervent anger and guilty remorse. The
writing was on the wall for a year, but the Orlando-faithful refused to shed
their ‘blue and white ignite’ colored glasses and read the fine print. After
numerous trade demands and posturing that served to hold the city hostage; countless
flip-flops as to his desire to remain in the city that built him his own
certifiable castle to play in, Dwight is finally gone, and he’s left in his
wake a trail of shattered relationships and bitter feelings.
Dwight Howard whining his way out of town has made
the Lebron James Decision debacle
actually seem respectable in comparison. From a PR standpoint, the public’s
perception of Mr. Howard is now eons from the aloof and innocent guy he
appeared to be two years ago; and under the bright lights of Los Angeles, where
image is everything and the media will eat you alive: Dwight has some definite
work to do.
His behavior amidst this calamitous ordeal should
serve as fair warning to how quickly the tide can change on how you’re viewed
by others. Dwight Howard was practically the ambassador of Orlando, serving as
our beacon for national notoriety and relevance - not just in the basketball
world, but in the professional and economic arenas as well. The construction of
the Amway Center, a virtual ‘must’ to ensure that he stayed in town, brought many
jobs and helped to rejuvenate a declining sector of the metro area that enjoyed
the booming business associated with sold-out Magic games. All this seems for
naught, now: as Superman has skipped town and Orlando fans have taken their
frustrations to makeshift funeral pyres for Dwight Howard memorabilia, showing
that even the most loved can become the most reviled in minutes.
The fact of the
matter is Dwight abandoned his base. Maybe he outgrew town and has a desire for
the celebrity-status that comes with Southern California. Maybe he soured on a
team that he felt was not serious about contending and bringing a championship
to Orlando. Maybe he just got tired of abhorrent I4 traffic. Whatever his
reason, he’s got an uphill battle rebuilding the brand that is Dwight Howard;
the good-hearted kid next door who puts his team before himself. -Carter Breazeale
PR/PR Public Relations
