Debbie Tymon, the New York Yankees’ senior vice-president of marketing, has an office at the Stadium, situated behind home plate, with a window that overlooks the concourse where fans line up to get in on game days. She can thus witness the fruits of her labor when the line forms earlier than usual for such promotional events as Yankees Bucket Hat Night or Yankees Soccer Jersey Night, when the first clutch of fans—typically eighteen thousand of them—are handed freebies as they enter.
The gates might open at five for a seven-o’clock first pitch. “But, for the hottest items, they’ll start lining up at one in the afternoon, twelve-thirty even,” Tymon said the other day. The Stadium has four main entry gates, where the lines can overlap and even snake back toward the subway exits. This sounds like hell if you’re a baseball fan, but it’s heaven for Tymon, who is pleased to play a part in boosting attendance. “It really is gratifying,” she said.
Her workspace is cheerfully cluttered with Yankees memorabilia—pretty much what a twelve-year-old might fantasize a Yankees executive’s office to look like. On the desk sat what is likely this season’s most anticipated giveaway: a bobblehead likeness of George Costanza, the “Seinfeld” character played by Jason Alexander, which will be handed out at a game against the Houston Astros this month. Some of this summer’s giveaways have nothing to do with the Yankees—Hello Kitty and “KPop Demon Hunters” bobbleheads, for example. But not the Costanza bobblehead: the character worked for the Yankees across several seasons as “the assistant to the travelling secretary,” making this giveaway, now an annual event, the rare promotion with genuine synergy. Last year’s Costanza day was a sensation. As fans exited the Stadium, lurking entrepreneurs offered a hundred dollars for the figurines; today, sellers ask for as much as a thousand bucks on eBay.
This year’s Costanza bobblehead wears a Yankees jacket and holds a calzone—a tribute to the 1996 episode in which George’s employment becomes contingent on procuring daily eggplant calzones for the team’s real-life owner, the late George Steinbrenner. (The character is seen only from behind on the show and was voiced by the series’ co-creator Larry David.) At her desk, Tymon hoisted the pleasingly solid, seven-inch figurine, and pointed out the carefully painted bits of pepperoni and eggplant in the calzone. “Look at the quality!” she said. “Compare this”—she held up a chintzy-looking pin that another major-league team had given out to its fans—“to this”—the bobblehead.
Tymon is in her forty-second season with the Yankees, having begun her pin-striped tenure in the nineteen-eighties, as the director of group- and season-ticket sales. An elegant, slender woman, she was wearing a white dress with a chunky turquoise necklace and could have passed for a gallerist in Santa Fe or somewhere on the coast of Maine. She was joined by her colleague Craig Cartmell, the team’s senior associate director of marketing and promotions, who was dressed more predictably, in a Yankees polo shirt and jeans.
Cartmell, who worked with the vender who made the Costanza bobblehead, explained the multistep process. First, a deal had to be struck with Warner Bros., which controls the rights to the show. Then Jason Alexander had to sign off on the concept. (Jerry Seinfeld, a prominent Mets fan, had no say in the matter, although Tymon said that he’s a fan of the bobbleheads.) Warner Bros. then worked with the manufacturer to design the head, assuming responsibility for the actor’s likeness, while the Yankees took charge of the body. It’s worth noting that the contours of the bobblehead’s bald spot map precisely onto Alexander’s in the calzone episode—again, attention to detail.
The giveaway business has changed during Tymon’s tenure. “I remember trying to convince Mr. Steinbrenner that the Beanie Baby was a good promotion,” she said. “Mr. Steinbrenner said, ‘We don’t give away little stuffed animals.’ ” That was not the Yankee Way. But Tymon knew that Beanie Babies might expand the team’s fan base, by luring young families. She gave Steinbrenner a Beanie Baby catalogue and asked him to show it to his grandchildren. “Let them pick the first Beanie Baby,” she suggested. “So he took it home to Tampa, called me the next day, and said, ‘Valentino’ ”—a white bear with a red heart—“and hung up.” History was made. Not only was it a successful promotion but David Wells pitched the fifteenth perfect game in baseball history that day: May 17, 1998. A Yankees Valentino now resides in Cooperstown, at the Baseball Hall of Fame.
Not all giveaways pan out. Tymon mentioned the team had considered a bobblehead promotion involving a turkey character. “But we felt there could be negative connotations depending on at what point in the season you gave it out,” Tymon noted. “After a June swoon, you don’t want to give away a turkey head.” ♦
