Quotes of the day, II: Yeah, sure, sports is business, we all know that--but then, Enron was a business (of sorts) too when "Enron Field" got its name
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"The real world is that you have to have a naming opportunity and sell it for a lot of money if you can afford a stadium in this day and age."
--New York City Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg (right), at a ceremonial groundbreaking for "Citi Field," the future home of the New York Mets
"All that most fans want is a winning team. But it does not mean they can’t tell the difference between an honor and a billboard."
--NYT metro columnist Clyde Haberman, in his column today, "Field of Honor Becomes Field of Dollars"
"Citi Field"???
It sounds "like an abandoned dump site out by the airport," F. Scott Shea suggested to NYT metro columnist Clyde Haberman by phone from Los Angeles. (That's an artist's rendering of "Citi Field" at right.) Shea is a grandson of lawyer William Shea, who in his time was a force to be reckoned with in New York municipal affairs ("power broker" is the apt term used by Haberman) and played a huge role in securing a new National League franchise for the city after the flight-in-the-night of the wicked, ungrateful Brooklyn Dodgers and New York Giants. The stadium the Mets moved into in 1964 (after playing their first three seasons in the Giants' old Polo Grounds) was named in Bill Shea's honor.
"It was an honor," writes Haberman (right), "in the dictionary definition of the word: high regard or great respect. It is an honor that has now become a casualty of modern business."
The name Citi Field, notes Haberman (as I've written here before, one of my very favorite curmudgeons), comes "in obeisance to Citigroup, the banking titan":
Citigroup has entered into a 20-year partnership with the ball club and, news reports have it, will give the team $20 million a year. That is a fair-size chunk of change (even if it would not fully cover the annual salary of New York’s highest-paid ballplayer, Alex Rodriguez of the Yankees, who proves every October that he could not hit water if he fell off a pier).
In exchange for its millions, Citigroup receives naming rights. Naming rights are not to be confused with honor. Honor is something bestowed upon you. It is not something that you can insist is your due. A company name spread above the front door on demand is a billboard.
To appreciate the concept of honor, you need look no farther than across the elevated tracks of the No. 7 train running alongside Shea Stadium. On the other side of the tracks lie a tennis center named for Billie Jean King and stadiums bearing the names of Arthur Ashe and Louis Armstrong. In that way, those giants of sports and music are honored. They did not pay for the privilege.
Putting up money without receiving a billboard in return is an alien concept in corporate America today. You don’t like it? Well, get real, said Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg, who used to run an information services company that he named for himself.
"It could have been worse," suggests NYT sports columnist George Vecsey. "The new Mets ballpark could have been named for some company overcharging in Iraq or a scandalized corporation or a geeky-sounding electronics firm that may or may not still exist when the gates open in 2009."
Point taken, George.
"All that most fans want is a winning team," Haberman concludes. "But it does not mean they can’t tell the difference between an honor and a billboard.
Oh, by the way, when Mets principal owner Fred Wilpon was asked pointblank, he did allow that "we will honor Bill Shea somewhere in this stadium.” (He's seen here at Shea Stadium as it was readied for opening in 1964.) There should be plenty of wall space for a plaque--not to mention countless refreshment counters, souvenir stands and rest rooms, each of which represents a prime "naming opportunity." Maybe Hizzoner the Mayor would care to stick his name on a coupla toilets?
[Note: Just to be safe--I never know whether NYT links will get you to the destination--I've posted the full texts of the Haberman and Vecsey columns in a comment.]
Labels: Clyde Haberman
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Here is the full text of Clyde Haberman's "NYC" column:
November 14, 2006
NYC
Field of Honor Becomes Field of Dollars
By CLYDE HABERMAN
William Alfred Shea was off by a decade and a half.
He once predicted that 15 minutes after he died, his name would be taken off the Queens stadium where the New York Mets play baseball. It took 15 years instead.
But Mr. Shea got the big picture right. Nothing lasts forever, certainly not a name on the facade of a ballpark, certainly not when huge bucks are at stake and corporate egos need nourishing.
For 42 years, the Mets' home field has been called Shea Stadium. It is called that for a reason: to honor Mr. Shea, never mind that ever-shrinking numbers of the team's fans have a clue who he was.
Mr. Shea, who died in 1991 at 84, was a lawyer and a power broker. He, as much as anyone, brought National League baseball back to a bereft city after the Brooklyn Dodgers and the New York Giants took a powder in 1957. The New York Metropolitan Baseball Club Inc. came into being in 1961. When it moved into a new home of its own in 1964, it made sense to many to name the home Shea Stadium.
It was an honor in the dictionary definition of the word: high regard or great respect. It is an honor that has now become a casualty of modern business.
Yesterday, the Mets made it official that their new playground, rising next to the old one in Flushing Meadows, will not be called Shea Stadium. The new name is Citi Field, in obeisance to Citigroup, the banking titan.
Citigroup has entered into a 20-year partnership with the ball club and, news reports have it, will give the team $20 million a year. That is a fair-size chunk of change (even if it would not fully cover the annual salary of New York's highest-paid ballplayer, Alex Rodriguez of the Yankees, who proves every October that he could not hit water if he fell off a pier).
In exchange for its millions, Citigroup receives naming rights. Naming rights are not to be confused with honor. Honor is something bestowed upon you. It is not something that you can insist is your due. A company name spread above the front door on demand is a billboard.
To appreciate the concept of honor, you need look no farther than across the elevated tracks of the No. 7 train running alongside Shea Stadium. On the other side of the tracks lie a tennis center named for Billie Jean King and stadiums bearing the names of Arthur Ashe and Louis Armstrong. In that way, those giants of sports and music are honored. They did not pay for the privilege.
Putting up money without receiving a billboard in return is an alien concept in corporate America today. You don't like it? Well, get real, said Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg, who used to run an information services company that he named for himself.
"The real world is that you have to have a naming opportunity and sell it for a lot of money if you can afford a stadium in this day and age," the mayor said yesterday after a ceremonial groundbreaking for Citi Field. Fred Wilpon, the Mets' principal owner, made a similar point. "It is imperative that we receive revenues," he said.
None of the 10 people who spoke yesterday, mostly politicians and business executives, mentioned William Shea in their prepared remarks. Only after reporters asked later about the name change did Mr. Wilpon allow that "we will honor Bill Shea somewhere in this stadium."
Where, exactly? Who knows? But Shea family members take Mr. Wilpon at his word. They also accept the loss of their name with equanimity.
If Citigroup money helps the team, then "it's absolutely fantastic," said Kathy Shea Anfuso, a daughter of William Shea. Much the same was said by a grandson, F. Scott Shea. As for the fading of the family name, so be it. "How can you be grumpy about something that's been so fabulous for 40 years, 45 years?" Ms. Anfuso, who lives in Portland, Ore., said by phone.
Scott Shea, a real estate lawyer in Los Angeles, was less than thrilled with the name Citi Field. Sounds "like an abandoned dump site out by the airport," he said in a telephone interview. But he added, "having said that, I truly don't believe the name on the door or the facade really matters that much; it's what's inside the walls of the new ballpark that counts."
The Mets are betting that fans will feel the same way in time, despite some inevitable grumbling now. That seems a safe bet. All that most fans want is a winning team. But it does not mean they can't tell the difference between an honor and a billboard.
And here is the full text of George Vecsey's "Sports of The Times" column:
November 14, 2006
Sports of The Times
Mets Offer Nod to Robinson, and Another to Reality
By GEORGE VECSEY
It could have been worse. The new Mets ballpark could have been named for some company overcharging in Iraq or a scandalized corporation or a geeky-sounding electronics firm that may or may not still exist when the gates open in 2009.
Instead, the name for the proposed ballpark gets its business done in a hurry--Citi Field--and allows Mets fans to return to their central issue, pitching. Many fans, being pragmatic, did not back the suggestions here and elsewhere to name the new place after Jackie Robinson. The fans just wanted the owners to come up with more corporate money to enable Omar Minaya to buy arms.
Rachel Robinson said she wasted no time hoping her husband would be memorialized in the full name of the Mets' planned palace in Queens. Instead, the open rotunda area behind home plate will be named for Jackie Robinson, and the Mets will support new scholarships for the Jackie Robinson Foundation and help it create a museum in Lower Manhattan.
"I'm satisfied," Rachel Robinson said yesterday after wielding one of the shovels at the ceremonial groundbreaking on the spot where José Reyes and David Wright will one day frolic. She cited the economics of baseball: Published reports have said Citigroup is paying $20 million a year for 20 years to have its name on the new structure. I counted the new name at seven spots in renderings of the ballpark.
"The real world is that you have to have a naming opportunity and sell it for a lot of money if you can afford a stadium in this day and age," Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg said yesterday.
The mayor is not wrong. But New York has always been different. It isn't the Piggly Wiggly Madison Square Garden, not yet, or the Wal-Mart Yankee Stadium. In fact, when the Yankees broke ground for their own joint last August, their officials emphasized that the new ballpark would be called Yankee Stadium--a magic brand all its own--although I fully expect some corporate presence to pop up on the next big ballyard in the Bronx, like a zit.
The big city is going the way of all the burghs that have succumbed to the offer of cash. Gone are the days of naming ballparks after sports heroes or teams or even the owners themselves. In recent years, many stadiums have been named after companies that I could not identify. Some of the companies went belly up. There may or may not be a moral to this.
The Wilpon family that owns the Mets has an active philanthropic side, but it also knows how to arrange the best financing--$550 million of tax-exempt bonds and $65 million of taxable bonds. Fred Wilpon, a builder, had elaborate plans for a ballpark alongside the current Shea Stadium, but those hopes were postponed by the practicalities after 9-11.
When the city's hopes for a multipurpose 2012 Olympic stadium on the West Side of Manhattan did not work out, the time came around for ballparks. Eighty-one home games a year have some civic and economic value.
When the Yankees broke ground in August, the projected new Yankee Stadium seemed abstract because we were still smack in the middle of the season. Yesterday, nobody offended sensibilities by noting how much they are doing for "you people," the way George Steinbrenner did last summer. The damp and blustery November weather held no promise of a ballgame, although Governor George E. Pataki, uncharacteristically animated, evoked warm memories of Choo Choo Coleman, Rod Kanehl and Jay Hook, making it 1962 all over again.
The current stalwarts Wright, Reyes and John Maine were just back from barnstorming in Japan. Even on jet lag, their youth and energy seemed wasted as they attended the ritual beyond their current ballpark.
The construction in the Bronx has already taken away a park from its neighbors. (Allegedly, the city will install park fragments on top of parking garages when the construction is over.) The new place in Queens is taking place on a former parking lot. The scenic chop shops just to the east of Shea, with wrecked cars stacked everywhere, will eventually be relocated.
•
But first, a new ballpark, smaller but reminiscent of Shea Stadium, will rise on the reclaimed swampland. And a rotunda, with its reference to the fabled rotunda at Ebbets Field in Brooklyn, will bear the name and inspiring words of Jackie Robinson. His widow, vibrant and quite beautiful at 84, said she looked forward to fans walking through the rotunda and thinking of more than the game.
In recent months, some people could not get past the fact that Robinson was never a Met. More to the point, Jackie Robinson was an American hero. A Brooklyn guy, Fred Wilpon, has made sure that his childhood hero in Brooklyn will be honored in this new place in Queens.
As far as the hard-core contemporary fans are concerned, the new place could be named Halliburton or Enron if the owners took the corporate booty and could import Dontrelle Willis right here and now.
Leave it to the Mets to finally get a new stadium and immediately turn it into a South Park joke.
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