Madlibs Oakland style

In the new season of the FX show Sons of Anarchy, the police department of the fictional town of Charming, California (somewhere in the Central Valley) has been disbanded and replaced by San Joaquin County Sheriffs. We may be about to see something similar soon, only in a much larger place that is all too real: Oakland. The first shoe to drop was the resignation retirement of popular-albeit-embattled Oakland police chief Anthony Batts. Batts has encountered friction since Jean Quan became mayor, and there was a sense that he would be gone at some point, either by taking another Chief’s job (San Jose interviewed him) or something else – in this case, academia (Harvard).

Zennie Abraham (hold on, give it a minute) put up a blog post with his opinion on the subject, and like many, he feels the whole thing is a mess. It wasn’t his words that caught my attention, it was the quotes and musings from others close to the situation. From City Councilperson Jane Brunner:

“…in my opinion, he needs to want to be here. And if there are things that are preventing him from wanting to stay, he needs to be in the room to have that discussion…If he’s going to stay, he needs to work with us as a team.”

Does that kind of rhetoric sound familiar? It should:

“We all got this feeling, everybody who met with him, we all walked away thinking he was just not interested,” said Councilmember Jane Brunner. “When you negotiate with someone, you need a nibble. … There was just no nibble.”

That was Brunner’s comment about Lew Wolff five years ago. The difference between Batts and Wolff? Batts has more control over his future. Next in Zennie’s post is a quote by recently elected city councilperson Libby Schaaf:

I’m extremely disheartened by Chief Batts’ resignation. I can’t blame him for feeling frustrated by this City’s inability to unite around a shared vision and commitment to public safety for Oakland. I hope this experience inspires us all to work harder at finding consensus and providing support to our next Chief. Oakland’s future depends on it.

Now if I change this a little to this (changes italicized):

I’m extremely disheartened by Commissioner Selig’s decision. I can’t blame him for feeling frustrated by this City’s inability to unite around a shared vision and commitment to a ballpark for Oakland. I hope this experience inspires us all to work harder at finding consensus and providing support to our next team. Oakland’s future depends on it.

I say, that looks quite apropos right about now, given the lack of consensus over a site and the complete unknown that is the EIR. That’s not a direct quote from anyone above, but it is a reminder of what rhetoric looks like, even if it comes from a well-intentioned place.

According to Matier and Ross, a federal judge is threatening to put OPD into receivership, which could by default make Oakland the jurisdiction of the Alameda County Sheriff. I hope, for the sake of Oakland citizens, that City Hall can provide the leadership necessary to get OPD through this. In the past I’ve stayed away from the “Oakland has bigger priorities than the A’s” stance, but after seeing all of this develop, frankly, Oakland has bigger priorities than the A’s.

Thoughts on Moneyball

SPOILER ALERT: IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE BOOK, DO NOT GO ANY FURTHER. IF YOU WANT TO MAINTAIN SOME SUSPENSE REGARDING THE MOVIE, YOU MIGHT ALSO WANT TO WAIT UNTIL AFTERWARDS.

The struggle to transform Michael Lewis’ Moneyball from a study of a business model into a compelling screenplay has been an ordeal, to say the least. Unlike Lewis’ later work, The Blind Side, the payoff wasn’t as easy or tailor-made for Hollywood. Still, what remains at the core of both narratives is a redemption story, based on a character overcoming incredible odds to attain real success. That makes the Brad Pitt vehicle a show of artistic symmetry, in that the movie’s success to come is nearly as improbable as the on-field exploits of that plucky 2002 edition of the Oakland Athletics.

The first thing that struck me about Pitt’s performance is how weathered he looks as Billy Beane. The bags under his eyes are reminiscent of Benicio del Toro. He shows a full range of emotions, from his portrayal of Beane’s well-known mercurial attitude towards the team to his surprisingly tender moments with his daughter (Kerris Dorsey) and Peter Brand, the assistant GM amalgam played by the now-svelte Jonah Hill. Every A’s fan knows how Beane has evolved in terms of finding greater efficiencies, from unathletic OBP/OPS types to undervalued defensive players and now decent minor leaguers blocked from promotion by established stars in the majors. Despite that evolution, there’s that lingering suspicion that Beane’s methodology was either a fluke or wholly flawed, simply because the A’s didn’t get to or win a World Series. Acknowledgment of that suspicion shows on Pitt’s face, which was constantly full of regret.

The audience may come away from the movie thinking that the 2002 A’s were the MLB equivalent of the Bad News Bears. They weren’t. They had the year’s AL MVP (Miguel Tejada) and Cy Young winner (Barry Zito), neither of whom gets much pub in the film. Neither do Tim Hudson or Mark Mulder, the other two legs of the Big Three, nor Eric Chavez, who would in short order become the face of the franchise. That shouldn’t stop anyone, A’s fans included, from enjoying the film. It was necessary to pare down the story into one big narrative with a limited number of subplots. The team itself, as was known by that year three of the contending window, was a notoriously slow starter and bullish second half performer. Tension regarding Beane’s job security was ratcheted up a bit, as his halo didn’t really get dinged until 2004 or later.

Finishing the movie is Beane’s trip to Boston, where Red Sox owner John Henry bowls him over with a tremendous offer to become the highest paid GM in baseball, only to be followed by Beane backing out of the job and staying with the A’s, where he’d eventually get a small ownership stake a few years later. He famously stated about his fateful decision to choose the Mets over a Stanford scholarship:

I made one decision based on money in my life… and I promised I’d never do it again.

Despite the ownership stake and a contract that runs through 2014, Beane is linked to the Cubs’ GM opening and could be linked to both the Red Sox and Yankees GM positions should they become available. If he stays true to that quote – and it’s always tough to turn down big money – I don’t think he’ll leave the Bay Area. I got that sense earlier in the week, when Beane made rare lengthy appearances on A’s TV and radio broadcasts, and on 95.7. He claimed that he had no inside information, but I’m not convinced in the slightest. He seemed barely able to hold back whatever he was not telling.

The film seeks to give Beane some form of redemption by explaining how a sabermetric-focused approach helped the Red Sox win the Series in 2004. It’s still not the kind of Hollywood ending that the masses want. Beane is a loyal guy to family and organization, even if players are treated as little more than commodities much of the time. I think if he really wants to shake the critics once and for all, he’s gonna have to do it on his terms, as the GM of the Athletics. After spending the last four years in organizational limbo while the stadium situation had no resolution, Beane may be finally sniffing that rebirth, that window opening again. By no means does that mean the A’s will have payroll parity with the Yankees and Red Sox, let alone the Giants. But I figure he’ll take that extra $25-40 million a year in revenue, be rid of the “50 feet of crap” that the A’s are under, and start dealing in earnest once again. Like the long, strange road trip the film took towards eventuality, the stadium may yet see such a resolution and that may be the boost Beane needs to turn the A’s from challengers to champs. It would be more than enough to turn Moneyball from bittersweet to just plain sweet. I’m looking forward to it.

The role of new media

This is the letter I wrote to A’s P.R. man Bob Rose in light of Dale Tafoya being stripped of his media credentials:

Mr. Rose:

I write tonight in defense of Dale Tafoya and his exemplary podcast, Athletics After Dark. He and his team have done an excellent job covering the A’s with a different perspective, and at times greater depth, than is normally allowed on the radio or via the regular print media. It would be a shame if Tafoya were not granted the access he has been afforded previously, and I fear that his product would suffer as a result. To me this is important as the A’s (as you are well aware) have been historically media-starved. To hamper his work over an issue that does not appear to have much or anything to do with his professionalism seems counterproductive at best, spiteful at worst.

Moreover, I think this is a good opportunity to explain what the role of the internet and new media is in today’s coverage of pro sports teams. I had spent a few years during college working with a professional photographer who had a great working relationship with Debbie Gallas and her counterparts at the other teams in the Bay Area. Because of this experience I can say I have at least a cursory knowledge of how the press box works, and what kind of professionalism it  requires. Going back to the internet – I had no foresight back then as to what it would really mean because things moved so fast. Six years ago I started out my blog with a focus on economics and business issues for the A’s and other area teams. Because of that off-field focus, I have never requested a media credential and I don’t intend to start anytime soon. Surely though, there is a place for Athletics After Dark, Athletics Nation, and other good outlets for Athletics fandom. The Cleveland Indians started an in-stadium social media presence last year and expanded it this year.

I write “fandom” because it means more than it used to. No longer does the fan have to rely on daily newspaper reports or even hourly radio updates. News, rumors, interviews, and other content meant to sate our appetites is ever more available and desired. That creates a situation where there could be breaches of professionalism, or at least perceived breaches thanks to less editorial control over instant outlets like Twitter. There can and should be a third way that can allow the new media to operate in a structured, professional manner. I don’t claim to have the answers for this. But I think this is a good time to start figuring it out. It’s not just for now, it’s for the next 5, 10, 20 years. Let’s find a way.

Rhamesis “Marine Layer” Muncada
ml@newballpark.org
new A’s ballpark blog

During the last homestand I spent one game hanging out with many AN regulars, including LoneStranger and emperor nobody. I mentioned that the frequently unused loge seats (suite level near the foul poles) would occasionally be used as auxiliary press seating for Raiders games. It was somewhat inconvenient from a logistics standpoint because someone in media relations would have to run copies of statistics and run them out there every quarter/half. For a blogger, who has this information on a laptop or app within seconds of a play occurring, there’s no need to kill more trees just to run out copies. That makes the loge, or an empty suite as the Cleveland Indians have afforded this year, a good spot for new media. I have a few ideas for this third way of accommodating new media:

  • Pay for limited access. A nominal fee of $5-10 per game, per person. Essentially it’s a ticket with perks such as access to the press box but no assigned seating within. Access to players and coaches pre/post-game would have to be negotiable. The nominal fee is important as it buys the individual a license to say anything (within reason).
  • To prevent just anyone from obtaining this access, applicants would have to provide some proof of prior journalistic work or a portfolio of existing relevant new media work.
  • Wireless internet access is a must.

Personally, I’m glad I had my brief experience working in the regular media. For me, familiarity truly bred contempt, and I found the press box a rather toxic environment, one that threatened to kill my fandom. I think that’s one big reason to separate the regular media from bloggers and podcasters. Now, there may be instances where a blogger or podcaster is looking to cross over into the regular media, and that would have to be dealt with as it happens.

Thoughts?

Sometimes a tree has to be chopped down

Nearly thirty years ago I went on a field trip with my brother and dad to a nursery in the Santa Cruz mountains. The nursery mostly grew coast redwoods. The afternoon was chilly as the marine layer wafted in over the mountains, giving the trees the moist, dense air that makes them thrive. As we left, my brother and I were both given redwood saplings in half-gallon milk cartons. We decided to plant them in the planter strip near the curb in front of the house. I forgot which brother was responsible for which tree.

Ten years later both trees had grown, though not taller than the other trees on the block. The western tree was taller than the eastern tree and had a thicker trunk. They required no maintenance. My dad laid down iceplant (just like at the old Coliseum!) around the trees and everything coexisted peacefully.

Another ten years passed, and from all appearances the western tree was growing like crazy, whereas the eastern tree was stalling out. The western tree also had much more substantial root growth, which could be identified by the uprooted sidewalk next to the tree. Its brother to the east posed no threat to strollers and skateboarders. Eventually the city noticed the problem with the sidewalk and told us that we had no business planting those trees next to the curb. We were told to put a tree in the yard next time, where it could have more space to grow. One day the city chopped down the western tree, which had grown to 20 feet tall. Later they pulled out the stump and fixed the sidewalk. The eastern tree still stands, growing little by little (I think). My dad calls it the Christmas tree and runs the holiday lights out to the former sapling every December. It remains the only redwood on the block.

San Jose’s redevelopment agency is much like the western tree. It grew as a mighty redwood was supposed to, big and tall and fast. Over time it became too big for its own good, and to keep it from destroying the street it had to be chopped down. SJRA’s mission was informed by a quest to become a big city, which meant putting tons of resources into it. Some of it was well directed (library, convention center, arena, museums) and some of it wasn’t (numerous retail failures). SJRA has a ton of fundamental problems that make it difficult to easily chop down. Yet that’s exactly what it’s done. In preparation for the upcoming fiscal year 109 jobs were slashed, or 91% of staff. Even as they expressed outrage at the passage of the twin “kill” bills, they clearly saw what was coming down the road and prepared for it.

Over the next year it’s expected that many RDA’s will be chopped down like the western tree. Most of those will be agencies that have grown too big or have become unmanageable. The loose definitions of blight and even the term “redevelopment” have allowed the agencies to grow unchecked. Controller John Chiang’s audit covered numerous instances of waste and abuse. Agencies who have mismanaged themselves are likely to get cut down, while the properly managed ones – and they do exist – have a chance to stay alive, like the eastern tree. What we don’t know is the criteria for separating the good ones from the bad ones.

With the first real salvo fired in the redevelopment war on Wednesday, every agency throughout the state is scrambling to protect or save themselves from the coming onslaught.

If you’ve read this far, you now get a treat of ballpark news! The Merc’s Tracy Seipel checked in with both Lew Wolff and San Jose Mayor Chuck Reed to catch their responses to the redevelopment shuffle. Wolff appears undeterred, still saying he can buy land if necessary, though he hasn’t actually done it. Maybe he’s waiting to find out what he might have to buy once the dust settles. Reed provided three scenarios under which the Diridon land can be made whole:

  • Wolff could buy the two parcels, and the city could sell him the rest of the ballpark site.
  • The city could sell agency assets to buy the last two parcels, then sell the entire site to Wolff.
  • The city could buy the last two parcels and lease the site to Wolff, with the city using the lease as security for financing to pay for the land.

These are all scenarios we’ve discussed here on the blog. None of what San Jose has done has been sexy or attention-grabbing. I’ve noted in the past that I could often count all of the people present at a ballpark-related session on two hands. The point is that they get things done. Every time an obstacle has come up, they’ve figured out a way to deal with it. Consider the following:

  • PG&E substation move? Not needed, ballpark configured to fit within purchased land.
  • Fire training station move? Garage requirement eliminated, no longer necessary.
  • Sharks objections? Lifted once entitlements were made for garage/commercial development on north side of HP Pavilion.
  • AT&T land stalemate? Possibly resolved when city provided entitlements to AT&T for land near Santana Row.
  • Worries about parking related EIR impacts? Not if “enough” parking is found on the other side of Guadalupe Parkway. (*shakes head*)

We’re in for an interesting rest of the year. In the morning I’ll check on what ORA and City Hall did with the $100 million.

One more thing: Billy Beane obliterates Lowell Cohn in this interview.

The Cost of Indecision

It’s been a while since I have posted here. Not that ML needs any help, but I felt like it was time I stepped up and earned the fact that my name gets to appear with his on the side bar.

This desire to contribute didn’t come out of the blue. It actually took root in a recent meeting that I arranged, at my workplace and over lunch, with ML and one Doug Boxer. Many of you know that Doug is the driving force behind Let’s Go Oakland, a group of people who are passionate and committed to keeping the A’s in Oaktown.

While we didn’t really talk about anything that anyone that reads this site with regularity doesn’t already know, I was impressed with Boxer and his straight forward style in discussing both the advantages of Oakland as well as the challenges it faces. I wish many of the Pro Oakland folks that I know were equally as honest about the challenges that face the Town in their pursuit of having a stadium built. Challenges, that while real, are not impossible to overcome if accepted and addressed. Especially when you have smart people working on a realistic solution. In short, if there is a solution in Oakland, Boxer will be part of sorting it out… Even if he doesn’t have all the answers about funding the joint right now, something I think he would freely acknowledge.

After having this more than an hour discussion, I can say a few things with absolute certitude. The City of Oakland has had an opportunity to put forward it’s best ideas. The ideas they have chosen as the best have been listened to. The people of Oakland are fortunate to have a guy like Doug Boxer in their corner. If he can’t help find a way to make it work in Oakland, I am confident saying that no one can, or will.

One of the topics of discussion, something I hoped to glean but didn’t, was what the heck this two year delay has been all about. ML, Doug and I all had our own thoughts, though none of us really know for certain. The reality is that it doesn’t matter, Bud Selig’s lack of foresight has already been extremely costly to our favorite franchise and should offend the sensibilities of all of us A’s fans in the Bay Area. After all, we live in a region with a long history of successful companies that grow from flashes of imagination to household names in the time it has taken for Bud’s panel to do absolutely nothing but “study” an already pretty clear situation.

From Pandora to Facebook, companies in the Bay Area prove all the time that chasing a perfect solution to any problem is a waste of time and detrimental to getting something done. So is sitting on one’s own hands and waiting for a solution to appear. It seems that one of these two scenarios is playing out before our very eyes. Either Bud is waiting for Oakland, or San Jose, to give up so he doesn’t have to force the issue, or he is expecting years of research to come up with a magic bullet to slay the Beast of Where an A’s Stadium Should Reside. Both are foolish.

A brief interlude… As you can probably already tell, I am kind of cranky. That isn’t really anything new for us A’s fans. Really, it’s like we are all building blocks in the 9th Wonder of the World: The Frustrated Pyramid of Oakland. Think about it for a minute, we are the bottom few rows of humongous sandy blocks. We make up the first few layers of frustration as we sit helplessly watching the players flail away. Those same players make up the next few rows of the great pyramid. As they struggle to figure out how a promising season devolved in one week’s time. Decimated pitching staff? check! Underperforming veterans? Check! But most importantly, clearly incapable of carrying out the most important parts of his duties manager? Double check!

I’d throw Bob Geren in as the next level of frustration, but I am not sure how long he is going to be around. Color me skeptical, but when was the last time an owner went on record in support of his Manager only to change his mind not so long after? Maybe, if Bob Geren gets crushed between the pressure of Billy Beane’s frustration at not being able to get a premier bat to come to Oakland and all the grumpy players (players who are grumpy because Bob Geren, himself, can’t communicate or manage a bullpen) it will provide some stress relief for all of us?

And on top of Beane’s frustration we have Uncle Lew. Now, some of you who read here regularly are going to have real trouble trying to sympathize with Lew Wolff, but just imagine the conspiracy angle is true. Imagine Bud invited Lew to buy the A’s so that he could move the team out of Oakland. Imagine Lew playing his part perfectly… Nope no land in Oakland. Nope, $30M later, Fremont won’t work. Hey Bud, time to pull the trigger on that San Jose thing you asked me to get done… Oh, wait.

Now pretend the conspiracy isn’t real (or accept that it isn’t, depending on your view)… Imagine spending a few years reaching out to different people in Oakland, as Lew did. Imagine amassing the magic “binder” of letter’s rejecting the use of places like Howard Terminal, researching how a river of crap flowing beneath the old HomeBase site impacts potential development, and so on and so forth. Imagine having a solution and walking into Bud’s office and being told… “Hold on a minute while we redo everything you have done and let the local press savage you for the next 2 years and take no action to help you move forward either way… Oh, and please keep holding the line for now. Afterall, we are ‘working’ on it.”

Man alive that is a whole lot of frustration from top to bottom! But how about our two fair cities of consideration? Where do they fit in this Great Pyramid of Teeth Grindage? Has Bud’s indecision cost them anything?

First, an election will need to happen in San Jose should that locale be chosen. He had voter support to make it happen. Who knows what he has now? This is the cost of indecision.

Second, he had some momentum in Oakland… A grass roots group of supporters that are willing to make the case for a new stadium doesn’t exactly fall out of trees. How long does a Facebook group and clicking a link to send a form letter keep people’s attention? This is the cost of indecision.

These are just two, of many examples, of the cost of indecision. Bud didn’t capitalize on either. Instead he says “this is a complex situation” and insults our intelligence. That isn’t how you build the most successful internet radio platform. This isn’t how you build a social network with hundreds of millions of users. This isn’t how you should run Major League Baseball.

At Facebook, there are signs posted all around the place that say “Done is Better Than Perfect.” I think Bud needs to visit and catch a glimpse of how business is done these days. At Pandora, I am sure that copyright law policy and advertising sales campaigns and boosting subscription service account holders are all issues worked in unison. No, the “Dodgers and Mets have really screwed up… everything else is on hold” sort of dalliances don’t usually hold muster at companies that own the future.

Having a consensus builder at the helm isn’t exactly like having a visionary running the show. Having a man who can’t make a decision without the approval of those he “leads” is cutting into our fan base. And by our, I mean we. Me and you and all of us who should be preparing for a new yard instead of bickering about where that home should be.

Some other things that are currently cutting into the A’s fandom? Monte Poole’s monthly “Lew Wolff and John Fisher are characters from an Austin Powers film” column. By now, Poole should have been able to write off the A’s as the 30 mile moving carpet baggers or embraced Wolff for getting something done in the East Bay. Instead I have to argue with my friends, who support the same team I do, once a month about how Lew Wolff isn’t Emperor Palpatine and that, no, me pointing that out doesn’t make me an apologist. I will be really happy when I don’t have to read those columns anymore.

By now, our focus could be on how we band together to get Bob Geren the heck out of Dodge. Instead we argue, here and other places, about what Oakland could have done 15 years ago. As if that matters.

By now, some of us could have moved on to not being A’s fans if we so chose. Instead we drone on and on about what Lew Wolff’s intentions were when he bought the team. As if that has any bearing on MLB’s committee.

By now, some of us could be driving down to check out progress on the new yard every other week. Instead we fight about funding models for an imaginary stadium.

By now, we could all be looking at 3D illustrations and picking a seat for our season ticket package. Instead we are nitpicking “projections” of how many thousands of people would be sitting in the tarped off section of the O.co Coliseum.

By now, we could all be celebrating the signing of some free agent with a power bat. Instead we take sides in a debate over whether Scott Boras was telling the truth about why Adrian Beltre didn’t sign in Oakland.

By now, we could be talking about things that are relevant to the future of our favorite baseball franchise. Instead we are in a perpetual discussion over things that are irrelevant.

This is the cost of indecision. Something tells me a bad decision couldn’t be any worse.

Strength in numbers

Since Let’s Go Oakland and the City of Oakland made their pitch to Bud Selig’s panel last year, there has been a curious talking point emerging from that camp, “We have enough corporate support.” The argument is that Oakland’s geographic placement between San Francisco and the growing East Bay (if not Oakland) makes it well suited to capture corporate clients for premium seating and sponsorships. To that end they’ve listed about two dozen companies, many of whom are not headquartered in the East Bay, who could sign on with a new Victory Court ballpark. It sounds reasonable on the surface. Scratch that surface a little and it looks a little weak.

For Oakland there is a “checkbox” problem. Oakland partisans frequently cite Clorox, Kaiser Permanente, Dreyer’s, and Cost Plus, plus Chevron if they extend the reach a bit. If Oakland has Cost Plus and maybe Ross Stores, San Jose has Orchard Supply Hardware and Fry’s Electronics – and those latter two companies have proven track records sponsoring sports in the South Bay. These are the low hanging fruit of the corporate game. Every team has official sponsors and partners for which there are exclusive deals. For instance, Kaiser Permanente would be a fantastic official health provider/insurance of the A’s and the new ballpark. It is huge, national, and is a major presence throughout the Bay Area. However, there are multiple available substitutes who would love to have regional market exposure, yet the exclusivity part restricts them to radio or something else. Right now the A’s have Washington Hospital Healthcare System, a Fremont-based partner whose deal goes back to the Pacific Commons concept days. Maybe the price of such a sponsorship will be too high to renew with a new ballpark, maybe the location (if it isn’t Fremont) won’t prove attractive given Washington Hospital being Fremont only. If Kaiser doesn’t sponsor Cisco Field it leaves a competitive opportunity for one of the other large HMO’s (PacifiCare, Aetna, Anthem Blue Cross, etc.) to swoop right in, along with another hospital network.

Along the same lines, there are numerous other official sponsors who should be there regardless of where the ballpark is. Chevron signed on with the A’s a couple years ago after several years with Valero instead. There will be an official fuel sponsor regardless. There will also be an official soft drink provider (Pepsi), beer (Budweiser), broadband provider (Comcast), mobile phone carrier (Verizon), and newspaper (BANG). These are the easy gets because in many cases there are other related deals in place, such as CSN’s broadcast rights or Pepsi’s pouring rights. Chevron could choose not to go with a San Jose ballpark, but that risks losing exposure in the company’s backyard.

It’s when you get past the checkbox deals that it starts to become difficult. It’s not going to be hard for the A’s to get those deals above. Nine-figure naming rights deals are hard. Suite deals can be challenging, especially if they don’t involve one of the vaunted sponsorship slots. That is where the comparison between what Oakland and the rest of the East Bay can muster up vs. what San Jose and Silicon Valley can provide ends.

The second problem is one of competition. The team will need to do more than just sign Company X to some deal. They need to extract maximum dollars upfront to pay down the large debt service that will come with new digs. That means that getting 32 or 33 companies, as Doug Boxer suggested, isn’t enough. There needs to be a real market situation that can propel those revenues. Without that demand and those commitments in place it’ll be harder to put together the financing piece. If you look at SVLG’s letter from last September, you see a lot of competitors in the same industries signing on. Wells Fargo and Bank of America. Cisco and Brocade. HP and IBM. Three different venture capital firms. Numerous competing chip manufacturers. It’s creating a situation where there have to be winners and losers, and that’s good because it should create mini bidding wars. That’s what you want – no, need – if you’re MLB and the A’s and you have $25-30 million in debt service every year.

The Mercury News has an index of local publicly traded companies called the Silicon Valley 150. The combined market cap for those 150 companies is $1.55 trillion, and well over $1 trillion just for the top 50. The list below (all figures FY 2010) omits companies outside of Santa Clara County and nearly every company beyond #60, yet it remains impressive.

There are some companies who I wouldn’t expect to be involved in a major way with Cisco Field, such as Google and Apple. Neither company has done much in the past in terms of sports sponsorships, and their focus tends to be global instead of local. Maybe they’ll get a suite or club seats to use as employee perks, maybe not. Whatever they do, it’s reassuring to know that so many other companies stand ready to fill in the gap. Interestingly, many of the companies will have a motivation that only applies to the Valley and has since the dot-com boom. Top tier software engineers are in extremely short supply, and competition is so fierce among various tech companies that they are throwing crazy money at the so-called rock stars of the industry – not just to sign, but to stay. The market has effectively exploded after a DoJ investigation that uncovered a “no poaching” gentleman’s agreement among the biggest, most well funded tech companies. Now that there are no restrictions, self imposed or otherwise, the market for engineers and C-level talent is unfettered and extremely competitive. The billboards along Highway 101 aren’t selling for millions as they did in the 90’s, but they still serve an important purpose for tech companies looking to catch the attention of talent. Signage at HP Pavilion and commercials on Sharks broadcasts serve the same purpose. Even now, Rambus has an aggressive ad campaign running during Sharks games on CSN California. Rambus doesn’t sell anything to consumers. It barely sells things to companies. Much of Rambus’ revenue comes from patent licensing and awards from lawsuits against patent violators. What the company wants is new engineers to create the next big advance in memory technology that could create the next patent licensing gravy train. Those engineers are predominantly in the Valley.

Multiply Rambus’ efforts by 100 and you have the potential for Cisco Field. The A’s are well positioned to take advantage, as they could lock a high bidder into a 10-year deal if the market is competitive enough. Those long-term agreements are what made China Basin possible. It’s what Oakland will need to get a ballpark built, since they and we know that the A’s would have to pay for it in the end. For Oakland it’s a much bigger challenge because its accessibility from the Valley and the Peninsula is not great and will be worse if they move to Downtown Oakland. Oakland simply cannot replicate those market and network effects. There are burgeoning industries, such as green tech, where several Oakland companies are out in front. Unfortunately, few of those companies are as yet profitable and many require massive government subsidies to keep them going, which is not a bad thing for the nation moving forward towards energy independence but puts those companies in a position where bidding wars for suites and signage doesn’t make much sense. Another indicator is media coverage. The East Bay Business Times, which contacted me almost six years ago shortly after this blog was started, folded in 2008 and was merged with the SF Business Times. Sister publication San Jose/Silicon Valley Business Journal remains in print and relevant, and is one of the companies in the SVLG letter.

Let’s be clear. Oakland and surrounding East Bay cities have corporate strength. Some of it is homegrown, some of it is from subsidiaries of larger companies. To compete with the South Bay it will need every bit of that strength. Since we don’t know what LGO’s list of commitments consists of, we can’t say whether it makes Victory Court more or less feasible. As long as the there is such a vast disparity between the East Bay and the South Bay, questions about that feasibility will linger, fair or not. The campaign needs to be much more than “We’ve got enough.” Because what you consider enough may not actually be enough for those who make the loans and the others who have to pay them off. Sacramento put together $10 million in commitments in the span of a few weeks. Sacramento is coming strong. That’s what needs to be done to convince MLB that Oakland can work in the long run. That’s not hate. That’s reality.

More contraction B.S.

Forbes’ Mike Ozanian mused about contraction yesterday:

From what I am hearing, I doubt there will be any baseball at Tropicana Field after 2014 even though the team’s lease runs to 2027.

The funny part is that in the comments, someone pointed out to him that a second team would have to be contracted to make it work, which he casually acknowledged and then pointed the finger at the A’s.

Today the blowback has begun, from Craig Calcaterra’s brief and annoyed response to a much lengthier one from Maury Brown. That follows what Ken Rosenthal wrote six weeks ago, which I deconstructed in short order. None of the sensible arguments against contraction have changed. They’re just not noisy or loud enough.

Consensus appears to be that MLB is doing this to win concessions against MLBPA, which I find barely plausible at best. Instead, I think it’s more appropriate to look at the more hidden agenda. The endgame for the A’s and Rays would involve having New Yorker Stuart Sternberg own Mets and Los Angeles resident Lew Wolff own the Dodgers. Nevermind that Wolff owns less than 10% of the A’s, he could conceivably bring on big money partners to take on the rest of the Dodgers, a team with a $800 million franchise value.

It’s far more likely that interests in the two largest markets in the country want in on some kind of ownership piece and are on the outside looking in. They see Sternberg and Wolff as ways to get in The Lodge, and the greater the FUD spread about Fred Wilpon and Frank McCourt, the better their chances are. MLB is happy to entertain the notions for now, since they ultimately have the power to act on them – or not act on them, which is most likely. That’s a great strategy, as long as you’re only looking at things through a very narrow scope. Big picture, none of this makes any sense. As I argued in February, MLB has to get its own house in order before confronting MLBPA on any major issues. To get the Mets and Dodgers healthy and properly functioning again, it makes more sense to get new, non-crony blood owning those teams. There will be willing buyers, it’s just a matter of whether prospective buyers will balk when they look at those teams’ debt positions.

The debt and revenue problems for the Mets and Dodgers have far greater implications leaguewide than the A’s and Rays getting a combined $50 million in revenue sharing every year. When the Mets and Dodgers have large revenue and attendance drops, it hurts the league much more than changes to the A’s and Rays’ revenue profiles. While MLB could deal with all four teams in one fell swoop, a deeper look reveals that it’s not nearly as convenient as it appears. Wilpon and McCourt continue to be wrapped up in nasty litigation battles, and while McCourt’s divorce proceedings could end soon, the Wilpon-Madoff mess could stretch throughout the rest of the baseball season, if not longer. And if Bud Selig is as paralyzed by the Dodgers’ situation as he is by the A’s-Giants T-rights ordeal, nothing improves. Would that lack of progress and decisive action surprise anyone out there?

It’s up to the fans

Trib reporter Angela Woodall’s writeup of the Keep the A’s in Oakland tailgate ends with the following quote by Let’s Go Oakland’s Doug Boxer:

“Now it’s up to the fans.”

He’s absolutely right. It is up to the fans. It has always been up to the fans. If the A’s had 34,000 – heck, 30,000 – filled seats every night, there would be no question as to whether or not the A’s could and should stay in Oakland. It’s really that simple. 30,000 a night would show that there were enough season tickets, walkup sales, suite and club buys to make it work. That is the challenge. That is why the question exists.

We can go on all day and night about ownership, or marketing, or the stadium, or a roster without huge stars. What about the fact that the team we love is the Oakland Athletics? Our team. Our passion, which for me has been for 30 years, for the guy sitting next to me tonight at least a decade more. If – and this is a big if – MLB’s process is legitimate, there’s a very simple way to prove that the fanbase here is that rabid.

I’ll gladly trade a little elbow room for some butts in seats. After all, there’s no passion in an empty chair.

Requiem for a Finley (or Peterson complains about Wolff’s complaining)

One of the problems I have with Lew Wolff pleading his case in the media is that it gives the media plenty of fuel for columns – columns that are almost invariably anti-Wolff. Such is the case today, with a Bloomberg article followed up by a rejoinder by Tribune columnist Gary Peterson. None of it moves the conversation forward, and it creates a cloud over a team at a time when all teams should have unfiltered hope on their side. You’ve got pro-Oaklanders and most local columnists on one side and Wolff, Beane, and the national columnists on the other side. And there isn’t much room for convincing either.

Peterson has plenty of good points (the beer size scandal) and some bad ones (the non-existent big development in SJ), but he makes one rhetorical mistake in comparing Wolff to Charlie Finley. In no way is Wolff as cheap, colorful, or rebellious as the maverick Finley. MLB wouldn’t have a Finley in the current era. As much of a mixed bag as Finley was, his honeymoon in Oakland may have ended as early as April 18, 1968. That was the date of the second ever home game for the Athletics in Oakland. After a sellout, 50,000+ crowd on opening night, game two brought in a whopping 5,304, most of those probably season tickets. Out of curiosity, I did a check of every first and second home game ever played in Oakland, and the results are only marginally better, sometimes worse.

Bold/italic figures indicate doubleheaders. Blue years are in Kansas City, Green years are in Oakland. Home games played outside of Oakland were not counted. Data source: Baseball Reference

There’s a story – possibly apocryphal – of how Finley said that he made a mistake in moving the A’s to Oakland when he saw the crowd for that second game (that may be how Selig got the basis for his famous quote). To be fair, BART was under construction. On the other hand, traffic was not nearly as bad on the Nimitz, then also known as Highway 17. Seriously though, 5,304? And less for the second games the next few years? The Haas era bumped things up, but even then the A’s had two years whose second games had four-figure crowds. Increased season ticket sales this year should ensure that a <10,000 crowd won't occur this year. Still, no matter how much Oaklanders and columnists despise Lew Wolff, hate alone won't save the A's. Showing up just might. I know that many of you will be there on Opening Day. What about the following day?

Dolich supports a new “multi-use” stadium

A reader alerted me to Andy Dolich’s piece last week in the Biz Ball section of the CSN Bay Area/California website. Dolich goes back through the postwar history of stadia in America, going from the multipurpose bowls of yesteryear to the new single purpose venues of the last twenty years. He then summarizes the current difficulty experienced by California teams when it comes to getting stadia built. After that, he proposes an idea so strange it might have come out of the 60’s: the 49ers, Raiders, and A’s should all share one stadium where the Coliseum currently sits. In supporting this “multi-use” concept, Dolich cites major technological advances, such as the movable seating decks at ANZ Stadium and customizable LED displays used everywhere nowadays. While Dolich’s sense of history is sound, he left out a major factor that has sent both the NFL and MLB on different tracks. The Neo-Classical ballparks are much smaller in terms of capacity than their predecessors, while the new football stadia are much larger. 40,000 has emerged as a sweet spot for MLB, while 65,000 is preferable for the NFL. No amount of new technology is going to be able to mask or easily move 25,000 seats, not even tarps. The requirements for baseball and football have diverged so much that it’s hard to envision even attempting to make a multipurpose stadium work these days. Let’s take a look at how the two sports’ requirements differ:

  • Proximity to the field. In baseball, it’s customary to have the first row at the same level as the field, or perhaps a foot above the field. In football, the first row may be 6-10 feet above the field.
  • Quantity of premium seating. Football stadia tend to have 7,500 club seats and 100-200 suites. Ballparks have 3-4,000 club seats and around 40 suites.
  • Confinement. Colder seasons force football stadia to enclose their suites behind glass, whereas ballparks like to take advantage of the summer by putting the seats outside the glassed-in parts of the suites.
  • Surfaces. While Field Turf and other advanced artificial surfaces have gotten better at mimicking grass, they’re still far away from being truly comparable for baseball applications. The fake stuff is welcome in football, where there’s no need to worry about having a true ball bounce or roll. If a stadium were to utilize grass, the dirt infield problem emerges.
  • Environment aesthetics. In football, the stadium is the scene. In baseball, ballparks are frequently designed take advantage of a pastoral or urban backdrop.
ANZ Stadium's pitch. Note the tracks used to move the seats in and out.

ANZ Stadium’s pitch. Note the tracks used to move the seats in and out.

The technology that Dolich espouses does little to address the differences in fan experience that the single purpose venues achieve. For instance, ANZ Stadium‘s movable seating sections could be an inspiration. Prime lower deck seats are mounted on tracks that expand and contract based on each sport’s specifications. It sounds good until you realize that the difference in capacity between ANZ’s rectangular (rugby, soccer) and oval (cricket, Aussie Rules) is only 2,000 seats. As a cricket venue it is severely compromised in terms of dimensions, with far more cricket tests played at Sydney’s older Cricket Ground. Movable seating decks have been employed to mixed success in the United States, the most prominent examples being the Louisiana Superdome and Candlestick Park. Aloha Stadium and Mile High Stadium both had novel methods to move entire seating stands. At Aloha, four double-deck stands either pinched in for football or widened out for baseball. Eventually the stadium was locked into its football configuration, much the same way The Stick’s east stands have been kept in their football mode. LED displays are great replacements for signage. They make an excellent platform for disseminating game information. But they don’t address the capacity disparity. From a fan experience standpoint, it could be said that the displays are sometimes counterproductive since they are so distracting. Either way, they’re just window dressing. Dolich uses the current economic state as justification for building a multipurpose stadium. Why bother, if the fan experience will only be marginally better than the current stadium, and will always be compared to superior experiences at single purpose venues? Dolich worked for the 49ers as a consultant to help improve the experience at The Stick, and was not particularly prominent in the selling of the new stadium to Santa Clara residents. He was unceremoniously let go at the beginning of this calendar year, and now he’s practically endorsing an alternative to the plan. If this were the 60’s, when both baseball and football were played in 50,000-seat ashtrays, it might be feasible. Times have changed. Until someone figures out how to make 25,000 seats disappear, the idea is not really worthy of discussion.