Gatorade's secret formula

Forty years ago this week, Dr. Robert Cade, an associate professor of medicine at the University of Florida, in an effort to help his beloved Gators football team replenish what it was sweating out, invented a glucose-powered lemonade that would eventually be called Gatorade.

It was first tested on the freshman team and then appeared on the varsity sidelines on a 100-degree day in Gainesville, and as the Gators drank the stuff, they held off LSU for a dramatic victory.

And the legend of Gatorade was born.

Of course, you know much of this from the Keith Jackson-narrated commercial.

But here is the rub. While it is possible, and only possible, that the Gatorade formula was more beneficial to Florida players than a cold drink of water would have been, how the stuff became nearly a $4 billion business is one of the greatest sports marketing stories ever told.

The fact is, according to the fascinating new book "First in Thirst" by Darren Rovell, for 99 percent of average people working out, there is little proof Gatorade is any better than good, old-fashioned water.

"It doesn't work for what a lot of people think it does," Rovell said. "You have to exercise 60 to 90 minutes for it to help your performance [more than water would]. That is less than one percent of the people."

So for that tri-athlete in the latest Gatorade commercial, it is possible that the glucose in the beverage could replenish his system a little faster than water. For the average person on the tread mill? It's highly unlikely.

But Gatorade has convinced everyone otherwise, and it has done so through some of the shrewdest and most groundbreaking marketing techniques ever attempted.

That is why this is more than just a business story. The sports world is drastically changed in the last 40 years because of the marketing and advertising money of hundreds of companies trying to do what Gatorade did.

Which is why "First in Thirst" is intriguing even if you initially think the business tale of a simple beverage doesn't sound like much.

Sports marketing has changed how, where and when our games our played.

It has renamed (and even contributed to the construction of new) stadiums, allowed some leagues to soar (NASCAR) and others to suffer (tennis, NHL), made us wonder about player loyalties (Michael Jordan retired from the Chicago Bulls twice, but never from Nike), turned star athletes into almost overnight icons (Tiger Woods), determined champions (college football can't break from the corporately sponsored bowl system), expanded our sports world from just the traditional major sports (X-Games, women's soccer) and funded not just sports broadcasts but entire networks.

And that's just naming a few things.

Businesses, corporations, new products and old ones all spend money trying to ingrain themselves in the sports culture of America.

At least part of that was because, if Gatorade could convince people to buy a beverage that was 99 percent of the time no more effective than tap water, then the subliminal power of sports could seemingly do anything.

Most of this can be traced back to Gatorade cutting marketing deals to get itself on NFL sidelines.

The idea that a certain drink or food group powering elite athletes isn't new – Wheaties, the Breakfast of Champions, has been associated with sports since 1933. But no one really believed that a cereal gave a baseball player that added punch in his bat.

Athletes have always been good pitchmen, and for all sorts of products; they even used to hawk cigarettes.

Through that NFL sideline cooler, a deal first done in 1967, Gatorade made itself seem essential for success. From the table full of little cups that would spill when a player inevitably crashed into it to teams celebrating championships by dumping a bucket of the stuff over their coach, Gatorade's marketing was so organic it was perfect.

And away we went. All the way to Alltel Stadium.

You can argue that Nike – "It's gotta be the shoes" – is the best sports-marketed product of all time, but people were already wearing sneakers when Nike was formed. Plus, it isn't just as effective to play barefoot.

"I would suggest that Gatorade, more than Nike, is the father of modern sports marketing," Rovell said.

Rovell does an excellent job keeping a business story moving by interweaving plenty of sports and bigger picture ideas into "First in Thirst." There is enough here for the businessperson, the sports fan and anyone who loves a story about how one small, simple idea could become so big.

Forty years ago this week, a drink that may or may not work for the very elite athlete was born. It is no accident that everyone is drinking it.