I had a dream the other night, a nightmare actually. I was in Chicago, about to see a Cubs game for the first time. After years of following them from afar, I was finally about to see them in person, and where better to experience your first baseball game than in the bleachers of historic Wrigley Field?
But upon approaching the entrance at 1060 West Addison, I was stopped dead in my tracks. Gone was the familiar red sign welcoming fans to the ballpark. Gone was the mystique of entering these hallowed grounds. Gone was Wrigley.
In its place hung a plain white banner, with the words "FedEx Field."
Terrified out of my wits, I immediately woke up. Once I gathered my thoughts and realized it was only a dream, I quickly settled back to sleep. What a crazy dream, I thought. Thank God they would never rename something so historic.
You could imagine, then, my reaction the next morning when I learned that Cubs' management is planning to sell the naming rights of the stadium that has housed the Cubs since 1914.
Regardless how I felt about my sudden gift of clairvoyance, that would have to wait. My main focus was now on the unfathomable idea that this celebrated ballpark is about to have its soul mortgaged in the name of a few bucks.
Because that is exactly what Sam Zell is doing right now. The boss of the Tribune Co., which owns the Cubs, is currently planning to sell the naming rights to Wrigley Field. Zell is doing it knowing full well that baseball purists are against it, saying that when he bought the Tribune Co., he didn't get a discount on the naming rights of Wrigley Field.
When it comes down to it, Zell is throwing a financial hissy fit, taking the game ball home and ruining it for the rest of the kids. If he - God forbid - had to pay full price for the name of Wrigley Field, then he's going to make sure that no one else can use it again. Ever.
Admit it, Zell, you were the kid that was always picked last at baseball, weren't you?
This is exactly what happened when people who never liked sports end up owning sports teams. To them, it is strictly a business venture. These teams are simply a way to make more money. What makes sports so special to those who follow it means nothing to these owners whose eyes are blinded by the prospect of more money. While fans may be spending their Sundays praying to Touchdown Jesus, these types of owners are attending service at the Church of Divine Profit.
For these owners, our sports teams are simply a means to grab that cash with both hands and make a stash.
But to the fans, sports means so much more than that. Teams and their histories represent something larger to the fans. To many, they represent the soul of a franchise, a city and a fanbase. As a result, the home of that team becomes a sacred place. This is where it happened, fans tell their children. This is the home of our team. The stadium is special to them, because no other one is like it.
But a soulless arena leaves nothing for those fans to remember or to take pride in. A kid will always treasure the memory of his first visit to Fenway Park, but no one looks back fondly on a visit to EnergySolutions Arena. There are seven different American Airlines Centers, but there is only one Yankee Stadium.
And there is only one Wrigley Field.
It is a cliché to say that there are some things that transcend sports, but one that proves to be true in this case. Wrigley Field is more than just a name on the side of a building. It is an idea. It is an institution. It is the heart of a town, and a sport. By selling the name of Wrigley Field, Zell would be doing more than just changing a red sign on the front of the stadium, he would be forever condemning those who love baseball to a lifetime of bad dreams.
No comments:
Post a Comment