Release the Cubs
Meddling city politicians cost team millions, perhaps pennants
IMARK SUTCLIFFE SPORTS INK magine if the Ottawa Senators had to ask the city’s permission to install a new scoreboard at Scotiabank Place, their privately owned arena. And although new state-of-the-art video screens would give fans more value and produce millions in advertising revenue for the team, city councillors decided to oppose it because they liked the old one better.
That’s what it’s like owning the Chicago Cubs. Tom Ricketts, a lifelong Cubs fan, bought the team and Wrigley Field in 2009 with some other members of his family.
Ricketts wants to put $300 million of his family’s money into improving the legendary ballpark, while still preserving its historic character.
The renovations, including much more than just a new scoreboard, would bring the park somewhat into the 21st century and also dramatically boost revenue for the Cubs.
Some of that might even be plowed into increasing the payroll for the team, which has gone almost a century without a championship.
Ricketts is not asking for government money, but he’s still being constrained by an interfering city council, sentimental community activists and, worst of all, the owners of adjacent buildings who charge fans to watch Cubs games from their rooftops.
Ottawa can sometimes seem like an over-regulated city, where heritage approvals and other considerations often impede the plans of developers. Just ask Roger Greenberg. But we’ve got nothing on Chicago.
The Cubs have more restrictions on their activities than Lindsay Lohan. The city of Chicago treats them like a community asset, not a private business.
Getting the community to buy in and take ownership is usually a good thing, but the primary motivation of some councillors seems to be to preserve the antique quality of the setting at the expense of potential sources of revenue that could help the team succeed.
And there’s a basic unfairness about how the city restricts the operations of a private business.
The Cubs are allowed to play only 30 night games a year and the city even exercises some control over which nights they can play. Although the afternoon games typically sell well — the Cubs have drawn more than 35,000 fans per game for the past 10 seasons — the schedule has a big impact on the team’s television audience, which costs them millions in advertising revenue.
“We’d like to run our business without restrictions,” Crane Kenney, the Cubs’ president for business operations, said recently.
But that’s not all. The Cubs are also governed by a bizarre ordinance that allows neighbouring property owners to sell tickets to their games. \
What started as a cute novelty, with people holding rooftop barbecues on neighbouring buildings, has turned into big business. You can actually buy season tickets to the permanent bleachers that have been set up on some of these rooftops.
The total revenue generated from rooftop ticket sales, according to the Cubs, is $24 million a year. For some reason, city councillors protect the rights of these business owners over the rights of the team that actually pays the salaries of the players and all the costs associated with putting on the games.
Under pressure from the city, the Cubs negotiated a deal with their neighbours to allow them to continue to operate in exchange for a small percentage of their revenue.
But the agreement not only costs the team ticket revenue from prospective fans, it means lucrative new signage can’t be installed that would block the view.
One of the rooftop owners recently justified the current structure in a statement, saying, “the rooftops are a fabric of the experience at Wrigley Field.”
She said any change to Wrigley that blocks the views from neighbouring rooftops would “jeopardize the tremendous economic contribution rooftops make to Chicago as businesses, taxpayers and members of the community.”
She left out the part about the tremendous economic contribution those views also happen to make to her own wallet.
The Cubs have more restrictions on their activities than Lindsay Lohan. The city of Chicago treats them like a community asset, not a private business.
What other entertainment business is required to pay all the costs of staging an event but is stuck allowing other people to sell access to their product?
Even though the city considers the Cubs to be the property of the community, in some special class of business that isn’t allowed to make decisions for itself, it puts no money into the team. Instead it charges an entertainment tax on Cubs tickets.
It’s all done in the name of nostalgia and protecting the surrounding community. But there’s also an element that is simply pandering to voters.
And the wistfulness is costing the team money that could be put toward attracting better players. ESPN’s Rick Reilly recently estimated the Cubs are shortchanged more than $70 million a year because of their unique restrictions.
The Cubs don’t just want to spend more on payroll. Their plan includes dramatic upgrades to the players’ facilities, including the clubhouse, which is a throwback to the 1920s.
While fans might find it quaint to watch a game at Wrigley, most players don’t like the amenities, especially when the alternative is a clubhouse in a newer ballpark, meaning one that was built after the First World War started.
“We’re not a museum. We’re a business,” said Ricketts.
Unfortunately, that’s not the way Chicago politicians seem to see it.