CAN 67’S SURVIVE?
Glorious history, cloudy future
The Ottawa 67’s have a lot to celebrate this season, and a lot to worry about.
It was 50 years ago that Howard Darwin and his partners landed an OHL franchise for Ottawa, a team that would go on to win two Memorial Cup championships (1984, ’99) under the guidance of Brian Kilrea and launch dozens of NHL careers, including that of the great Bobby Smith, who was in Ottawa on Friday for a salute to the 1977-87 decade of the 67’s.
If he were alive today, Darwin wouldn’t recognize his former sports property, which is now part of a three-pronged monster — along with the CFL’s Ottawa Redblacks and USL’s Fury, under the auspices of the Ottawa Sports Entertainment Group.
Ironically, Jeff Hunt, a reformed carpet cleaner who bought the team from Darwin (and Earl Montagano) in 1998 and more than tripled the attendance within two years, is today president and co-owner of an OSEG operation that necessarily neglected the 67’s while getting the Redblacks and Fury up and running.
Two out of three ain’t bad. The Redblacks couldn’t be running hotter. As the reigning Grey Cup champions and the host city for the 105th Grey Cup game and festival in November, Ottawa’s CFL team boasts roughly 17,500 season ticket holders and routinely sells out TD Place. Keeping that going will be tomorrow’s challenge.
The Fury, though getting by with a little more than 1,000 season ticket holders, have shown modest fan growth and this summer surpassed 100,000 fans for the first time in four seasons.
Lagging are the 67’s. Once one of the top major junior clubs in the country, they have fallen on hard times. The season ticket base, formerly a robust 5,000 fans, has eroded to a number less than 1,000, an 80 per cent decline.
“That’s a lot of tickets to have to wake up on Monday morning to sell for the week,” Hunt says. “And sometimes we have two games on a weekend.”
Two of the 67’s first three home dates had gates of fewer than 2,000 at TD Place arena. Friday’s game was a special event and still only drew 2,670.
In a frank interview, Hunt shed insight on the micro and macro challenges sports franchises such as the 67’s, and others, face in this era of digital options and splintered interests.
In 2004-05, the season of the NHL lockout, the 67’s reached an all-time-high average gate of 9,231 in the 10,000-seat Civic Centre. The rink was rocking with the voices of screaming adolescents.
Attendance has declined every year since, first a gradual fall to average crowds of 7,000 and then 6,000. The past three seasons have been sub-4,000, and this season could be the lowest in 20 years.
Hunt, a keen student of sports marketing, brought some of the most creative ideas home to Ottawa (witness the teddy bear toss). He has a reputation for the Midas Touch and the Redblacks are the latest example. Yet, Hunt will admit the 67’s franchise he nursed to spectacular heights has been dying of neglect. His own neglect.
“Part of the 67’s woes coincide with my distraction and consumption with the OSEG dream,” Hunt says. “At the time, myself and several of my top employees were very engaged in this project.”
OSEG had to first secure a CFL franchise for Ottawa, then leap hurdles for approval and construction of the Lansdowne Park redevelopment plan.
The soccer Fury were part of the mix, although Hunt left most of the groundwork for club president John Pugh, while Hunt focused on Lansdowne and the rebranding of the football Redblacks.
“I would admit, my focus got severely distracted,” Hunt says. “It was a very intensive, timeconsuming project. And very exciting.”
It was thought the 67’s could operate on cruise control for a few years while OSEG concentrated on the newbie franchises. Besides, surely the added financial clout of the OSEG partners and the prestige of the new operation would float all boats?
Unfortunately, reconstruction efforts in the Glebe at the stadium and arena forced the 67’s out of their own rink from 2012-14, two full seasons.
Considering Hunt believes the prototypical 67’s fan is “Mr. and Mrs. Orléans and their two school-age children who play minor hockey,” the junior club was suddenly 45 kilometres away, a nightmarish excursion across the Queensway anytime after 3 p.m.
“We suffered at the Canadian Tire Centre,” he says. “Forty per cent of our fans come from Orléans, and that area, so we really alienated that group.”
Hunt has some interesting thoughts on the vulnerability of live sports events. As with most franchises, there is no one factor with the 67’s, but a “death by a thousand cuts,” says the OSEG president.
Perhaps foremost, they have been eclipsed in the hearts and minds of fans in the region. The Redblacks are now the “talk of the town,” Hunt says. And even the Fury is competing for the same demographic. (One could argue that the NHL Senators, with their cheap and widely available nosebleed seats, are also now a 67’s competitor, a recent development.)
Hunt shares this anecdote. He is walking down the street and a sports fan calls out, “Hey, Jeff, your team is looking good.” “Which team?” Hunt responds. “The Redblacks.” The part of Hunt that was once sole owner of the 67’s, and identified as such all over town, still finds that sort of verbal exchange odd. Now, his “team” is the Redblacks, or so goes the public perception.
Hunt plays shinny several times a week and the dressing room talk always turns to the Redblacks and their season.
“For the 67’s, it’s like, we’re trying to wave — ‘Hey, we’re still here, remember us?’” Hunt says. “The Redblacks take a lot of oxygen out of the room. We’re thrilled. We own the Redblacks. But our challenges are with the 67’s and Fury.”
Twenty years as a sports franchise proprietor has taught Hunt a few things.
For one, winning isn’t as important as people think. Especially in junior hockey, which, for most, is a family outing. A hometown win is a bonus. The 67’s are in bounce-back mode after some lean years.
Ticket price isn’t a big factor. Seats are affordable (as little as $15). But concession prices can be annoying. Hunt the sports consumer gets this. If he had his way, he would bring in “street pricing” on concessions.
“You’ll pay an extra $10 for a ticket,” Hunt says, “but $9.50 for a beer (bleeping) pisses you off.”
He thinks pro sports will be forced to go this way, if they are to lure fans in the future.
“The tipping point on concessions has been exceeded,” he says.
The vast majority of sports fans never go to games, leaving franchises to woo a small portion of a small portion of the population.
Hunt has also learned that fan ticket bases run a cycle. The average tenure of a season-ticket holder is eight years, Hunt says, and teams can expect to lose 10 to 15 per cent of their subscribers each year. The key is to replenish the supply, which the 67’s have not been able to do in the past several years.
Kids who once enjoyed going to games with their parents might come back, but perhaps only after they are parents themselves. Hunt considers millennials in their early 20s a kind of dead zone — they don’t go to games. By the time they are in their late 20s, they are more likely to attend live sports, especially the Redblacks, with their party atmosphere.
For all sports consumers, home options are increasingly attractive. High-definition, endless-channel TVs. Cheap beer and snacks. Sports streaming on iPads, laptops and phones.
“When the 67’s were strong, I was competing against people