September 99

Views expressed are those of the authors, not necessarily of the AFSC.

Field of Dreams or Revenue Streams?

Randy Divinski works at Dollars & Sense magazine, where he "takes care of business" and all things computer-related. He also serves on support committees for Peacework and Peace Brigades International.

"Places of the heart, even impure ones, are worth the effort. Your home, your neighborhood, your city-you have to stand and defend your piece of ground...Battling to preserve a special place is not quaint provincialism. It is defiance against the relentless obliteration of memory and community."

"If you can't be a defense contractor, the best way to get rich at public expense today is to own a sports franchise," observes Neil deMause. In the 1990s, $11 billion of public money was doled out to privately owned professional sports facilities, with billions more given away through hidden tax subsidies and 'infrastructure' improvements. In one case, proponents of Cleveland's new sports complex promised that it would generate "$15 million a year for schools." Instead, tax breaks given to the project have drained $3.5 million a year from the Cleveland school system, which is now in receivership. In the book, Field of Schemes, deMause and co-author Joann Cagan document many more cases of sports-related corporate welfare swindles.

The current bid by the Boston Red Sox baseball team to replace historic, "fan-friendly" Fenway Park with a more revenue-friendly ballpark will provide plenty of material if deMause and Cagan write a sequel. Sox acting-CEO John Harrington says the team will finance a new $350 stadium itself, but wants the public to "chip-in" $130 million for parking and infrastructure. Also the city must donate the land for the stadium and Sox executive offices: 15 acres in the Fenway neighborhood, currently the home of dozens of thriving small businesses. (In other words, the city would seize the land, pay out token compensation to destroyed businesses, and bulldoze the area, then turn the land over to a private corporation, while sending the bill to the taxpayers.)

In a sane world, the entire city would laugh in the team's face. But Boston's mayor seems eager for a cut of the action, as do some business groups (and even unions). Most local media uncritically parrot the team's assertion that it must "enhance" its "revenue streams" to be "competitive."

Special places attract special champions. In January 1998, a mix of baseball enthusiasts, preservationists, architects, neighborhood activists, and economic justice advocates founded "Save Fenway Park!" (SFP) to promote the proposition that it is actually in the best interests of the fans, the community, the taxpayers, and the Red Sox to renovate and preserve the team's existing ballpark, not build new.

Why defend a stadium? Fenway Park has a rich history. It opened in 1912 (the week the Titanic sank) and ever since has been a place where baseball fans have delighted in the exploits of Babe Ruth, Cy Young, Ted Williams, and many more. Fans also love the quirky contours of the field itself. Compact seating puts spectators much closer to the action than in modern parks with more amenities. Fenway Park is the state's most popular tourist attraction. Attendance in other cities fluxuates wildly in relation to a team's win-lose record, but "The Fenway Factor" keeps fans coming to the ballpark, win or lose.

But when it comes to the bottom line, not all fans are equal. Increasingly, sports team owners are targeting upscale customers. Micheal Betzold, a veteran of the doomed fight to save Detroit's Tiger Stadium observes: "Clubs don't want working stiffs who come on the spur of the moment, park on the street, and buy a hot dog and a beer. They want yuppies who buy seats in advance, pay $10 for guarded parking, snap up team-logo merchandise, and eat catered finger food. They market to fans who want sanitized convenience, an unthreatening entertainment package, rather than an unplanned, take-it-as-it-comes day or night at the ballpark."

In their PR, the team emphasizes things like additional seating and more comfort, cleaner restrooms, more concessions, more parking. They also talk about enhancing "revenue streams," not for personal gain of course, but so they can pay the salaries of star players. But many of the "seats" they would add are luxury boxes. And the new stadium would allow the team to monopolize the sale of concessions and merchandise, destroying a thriving network of small vendors around the park.

To counter team-hired experts, SFP secured its own architect, Charles Hagenah, to draw up a renovation plan funded through an historic preservation grant. At each stage of the development process, SFP met with team officials, listened carefully to their objections, and encouraged them to articulate their "needs." "More seats, wider with more legroom-check!" "More luxury boxes-OK." "Access for concession trucks-got it!" Soon every publicly-stated rationale was incorporated into Hagenah's design. Through this cooperative and proactive approach SFP has effectively raised the question of whether there is realy anything other than naked greed to explain the "need" for a new stadium.

The Sox staff dismiss the SFP design as inadequate and unrealistic, but the guardian of the state treasury, House Speaker Thomas Finneran, emerged from an SFP briefing to say he was "encouraged" that Fenway could be renovated. The team now seems to be pursuing a media strategy of eliminating the Hagenah alternative by ignoring it.

SFP has been building grassroots opposition to the new stadium proposal: circulating petitions during home games, distributing flyers and bumper stickers, selling T-shirts and hats. They fire off letters, phone calls, and emails challenging frequent misrepresentations of the options. Their website (www/savefenwaypark.com) is loaded with information, and new converts can sign up to receive the group's press releases and announcements. Aware that "the group that plays together, stays together," SFP also organizes group trips to the ballpark and even bowling ( a local alley runs under Fenway Park).

Despite owner efforts to create a different impression in the media, the battle for Fenway's future is far from over. In sportswriter Doug Pappas' words, "John Harrington can't raise the private money needed to build New Fenway until all the public money is in place, but won't get the public money until the legislature is convinced that SFP's cheaper alternative won't work."

There is one thing the SFP plan cannot deliver; and it's something Harrington cannot publicly admit he wants. The Harrington proposal will drive up the sale price of the Red Sox franchise far more than the SFP renovation could. The dirty little secret is that the private goal of artificially inflating the sale price of the team may be at cross purposes with the public objective of generating "revenue streams" to make the team more "competitive." SFP's analysis of the "Fenway Factor" may be right, but Harrington will go ahead and kill the goose that laid the gold egg anyway. (See side bar.)

Will Save Fenway Park prevail? At worst, their efforts should shave tens of millions of dollars from the taxpayers' bill. If they manage to keep the media spotlight focused on stadium policy, they may derail the backroom deals necessary for Harrington to get his cash cow. Even a delay of 5-10 years may be enough to force him either to revisit the SFP plan or sell the team. Then it will be a whole new ballgame.

Sidebar:

Private ownership of sports teams that market themselves as public institutions is a contradiction of the sports industry. How John Harrington came "own" the Red Sox-without investing a dime-is a modern tale of palace intrigue. For 59 years, the Red Sox were blessed by the relatively enlightened ownership of the Yawkey family, which donated substantially to local charities. When Jean Yawkey died in 1992, her will dictated that the team be sold and the proceeds given to charity.

Through a series of manuveurs, accountant John Harrington, Yawkey's advisor, assumed control of the team. Yawkey didn't stipulate a sale timetable, so Harrington gradually extended his caretaker role: first he planned to sell by 1995, then "no sooner" than 1998, then "someday." In March 1996, he stated he would not sell until "we are in a new stadium," indicating he had no legal obligation to sell for "another 15 years or so."(For details, see Doug Pappas's excellent,"The Emperor Has No Clothes," Boston Baseball, June 1999).

What's the stadium connection? A government give-away of several hundred million dollars will inflate the team's sale price by the value of that gift. If, as SFP forecasts, destroying the "Fenway factor" ultimately undermines an important segment of Red Sox fan base-and accompanying revenues, Harrington will be long gone by then.