Post by Brooke on Mar 4, 2004 2:04:02 GMT -5
Pedigree That Can't Be Bought
Westminster is top dog, and not just because of tradition
If you are a dog person, I don't have to tell you that today rates right up there with Christmas in terms of anticipation and excitement.
And even if you can't tell a Silky from a Yorkie, you probably know this is Westminster week. The 128th iteration of America's oldest dog show and second-longest-running sports event - only the Kentucky Derby beats it - kicked off at Madison Square Garden yesterday, and culiminates tonight with best in show. (If you can't get to the Garden, tune in to USA Network at 8 p.m. for the live group judging.)
To be sure, the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show is far from perfect. It's become standard to kvetch about the cramped conditions in the benching area, where dogs are required to stay all day to meet the public - you'd have better luck working your way through the F train at rush hour. And despite Westminster's lofty, old-money overtones, you might be shocked to know that the gleaming best in show trophy is only - gasp - silver plated.
This year, the venerable dog show has issued a commemorative poster by artist Misha Lenn titled "Westminster. There's Only One." In my book, that rings true, if only because Westminster hasn't forgotten what it is - a dog show, first and foremost. And as a new generation of televised dog events comes of age, Westminster stands apart as a dog show that happens to be televised - not a ratings machine that happens to be a dog show.
In the past few years, the networks and cable channels have discovered that dog shows equal ratings. Animal Planet has made a cottage industry of airing dog shows from Seattle to Birmingham, England. And the TV mania has even helped usher some new events into existence, such as the AKC/Eukanuba National Championship. Held in Long Beach, Calif., in December and simulcast late last month on Animal Planet and the Discovery Channel, the Invitational, as it's informally called, invites the top 25 dogs of every breed to compete, as well as top internationally ranked dogs.
But to me what rankles about the Invitational is its billing as a competition for "the most prize money of any dog show in the world" - a total of $225,000, with the best-in-show winner racking up $50,000 and a new Suzuki sport utility vehicle.
Despite what most of the general public thinks - why would these dog owners drive their RVs hundreds of miles every weekend, scooping poop and clipping piles of fur, unless there was a cash incentive? - the vast majority of dog shows don't offer cash awards. Prize money is the glaring exception, hardly the rule. The reward of winning a dog show is supposed to be the ribbon itself, or, more accurately, what it represents: having a (hopefully) knowledgeable judge confirm what you (hopefully) already know - that the dog at the end of your lead is a pretty dang nice one.
Sure, having a big-winner dog might mean you can ask an exorbitant fee for stud service or puppies, but when you calculate the entry fees, handler salaries, travel expenses and advertising costs, breaking even isn't likely. And when reputable breeders are banging their heads against the wall trying to educate people about how breeding should not be about the almighty dollar, what kind of conflicting message does the Invitational's big- buck booty send?
The Invitational isn't the only "high-profile" dog show to sweeten the pot financially for exhibitors: The Kennel Club of Philadelphia Dog Show - redubbed the "National Dog Show" when it aired after the Thanksgiving Day parade on NBC - also offered cash purses to the winners. And its November broadcast was so poorly edited that some of the day's winningest dogs barely made it to the screen. (Compare that to Westminster, where every breed, no matter how obscure, gets the same amount of camera time.)
So say what you will about the Big W - at least this granddaddy of dog shows has managed to rake in the ratings without selling out. And in the end, whatever dog best-in-show judge Burton J. Yamada points to tonight, its owners and breeders and handler will walk away with the most precious prize of all - a star turn at arguably the most prestigious dog show on the planet. And that should trump an SUV any day of the week.
Write to Denise Flaim, c/o Newsday, 235 Pinelawn Rd., Melville, NY 11747-4250 or e-mail denise.flaim@newsday.com. For previous columns, visit www.newsday.com/animalhouse.
Email: denise.flaim@newsday.com
Copyright © 2004, Newsday, Inc.
Westminster is top dog, and not just because of tradition
If you are a dog person, I don't have to tell you that today rates right up there with Christmas in terms of anticipation and excitement.
And even if you can't tell a Silky from a Yorkie, you probably know this is Westminster week. The 128th iteration of America's oldest dog show and second-longest-running sports event - only the Kentucky Derby beats it - kicked off at Madison Square Garden yesterday, and culiminates tonight with best in show. (If you can't get to the Garden, tune in to USA Network at 8 p.m. for the live group judging.)
To be sure, the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show is far from perfect. It's become standard to kvetch about the cramped conditions in the benching area, where dogs are required to stay all day to meet the public - you'd have better luck working your way through the F train at rush hour. And despite Westminster's lofty, old-money overtones, you might be shocked to know that the gleaming best in show trophy is only - gasp - silver plated.
This year, the venerable dog show has issued a commemorative poster by artist Misha Lenn titled "Westminster. There's Only One." In my book, that rings true, if only because Westminster hasn't forgotten what it is - a dog show, first and foremost. And as a new generation of televised dog events comes of age, Westminster stands apart as a dog show that happens to be televised - not a ratings machine that happens to be a dog show.
In the past few years, the networks and cable channels have discovered that dog shows equal ratings. Animal Planet has made a cottage industry of airing dog shows from Seattle to Birmingham, England. And the TV mania has even helped usher some new events into existence, such as the AKC/Eukanuba National Championship. Held in Long Beach, Calif., in December and simulcast late last month on Animal Planet and the Discovery Channel, the Invitational, as it's informally called, invites the top 25 dogs of every breed to compete, as well as top internationally ranked dogs.
But to me what rankles about the Invitational is its billing as a competition for "the most prize money of any dog show in the world" - a total of $225,000, with the best-in-show winner racking up $50,000 and a new Suzuki sport utility vehicle.
Despite what most of the general public thinks - why would these dog owners drive their RVs hundreds of miles every weekend, scooping poop and clipping piles of fur, unless there was a cash incentive? - the vast majority of dog shows don't offer cash awards. Prize money is the glaring exception, hardly the rule. The reward of winning a dog show is supposed to be the ribbon itself, or, more accurately, what it represents: having a (hopefully) knowledgeable judge confirm what you (hopefully) already know - that the dog at the end of your lead is a pretty dang nice one.
Sure, having a big-winner dog might mean you can ask an exorbitant fee for stud service or puppies, but when you calculate the entry fees, handler salaries, travel expenses and advertising costs, breaking even isn't likely. And when reputable breeders are banging their heads against the wall trying to educate people about how breeding should not be about the almighty dollar, what kind of conflicting message does the Invitational's big- buck booty send?
The Invitational isn't the only "high-profile" dog show to sweeten the pot financially for exhibitors: The Kennel Club of Philadelphia Dog Show - redubbed the "National Dog Show" when it aired after the Thanksgiving Day parade on NBC - also offered cash purses to the winners. And its November broadcast was so poorly edited that some of the day's winningest dogs barely made it to the screen. (Compare that to Westminster, where every breed, no matter how obscure, gets the same amount of camera time.)
So say what you will about the Big W - at least this granddaddy of dog shows has managed to rake in the ratings without selling out. And in the end, whatever dog best-in-show judge Burton J. Yamada points to tonight, its owners and breeders and handler will walk away with the most precious prize of all - a star turn at arguably the most prestigious dog show on the planet. And that should trump an SUV any day of the week.
Write to Denise Flaim, c/o Newsday, 235 Pinelawn Rd., Melville, NY 11747-4250 or e-mail denise.flaim@newsday.com. For previous columns, visit www.newsday.com/animalhouse.
Email: denise.flaim@newsday.com
Copyright © 2004, Newsday, Inc.