On A Sporting Chance

(Photo: Redbirds) Updated

It's hard to be a Memphian and not be a sports pessimist.

The signs of failure--imagined, impending and real--are just too difficult to ignore at times.

So, it's not surprising that Commercial Appeal columnist Geoff Calkins opined about "the end of the golden age of Memphis sports" in the aftermath of another failure: the seemingly abrupt end to the sale of The Memphis Racquet Club and two professional tennis tournaments--to "local" buyers, at least.

I'm not accusing Calkins of being a pessimist. Cold water is cold water, and he splashed a bit of it in today's column, which reinforces the cold reality that professional sports is a business, and this businesses are for profit, and to turn a profit they need to have Memphians as customers or else, Memphians stand to lose what professional sports we have. That's real talk.

At the same time, though, I have some cold water for professional sports--as if they weren't drowning in enough already, I know: change your media strategy.

And that's just a starting point.

An excerpt:

The financial troubles Winker has had at the Racquet Club -- and he says he has had plenty of them -- are being repeated all over town.

The Grizzlies have lost upward of $20 million every season they've been in Memphis. The golf tournament draws what appears to be increasingly modest crowds.

Steve Ehrhart, executive director of the Liberty Bowl, was back in front of the City Council this past week, begging for stadium improvements to keep the SEC from bolting for another bowl. The Redbirds are struggling to draw fans.

In some ways, the Redbirds' story is the most telling. Unlike the Grizzlies, bad ownership and a gruesome product aren't driving fans away. AutoZone Park is as lovely today as it ever was.

So why is the park empty most nights? Have we, as a community, brought in more than we can support?

"That's part of it," said Chase. "You go back when AutoZone Park opened, and we were pretty much the only show in town. But I think, all along, we assumed that the business community would grow, and the fan base would grow and there would be plenty of support for everyone.

"It's like when you buy a new car or a new house. At first, you think it might be a stretch. But then you get a raise, or you get a new job, and you grow your way out of it. I think, for this city, that curve has been a difficult one. And it's not just sports, either. It's The Orpheum, the museums, everything."

First, the community didn't bring in any of these events.

Sports-minded entrepreneurs took the risk upon themselves and offered these events veiled as public services. And to build a strategy based on being the only game in town is a losing one because it takes customers for granted since they seemingly have no other option. There are always options, including not going. But I digress.

Let's think about "this golden age." Last year, when the Liberty Bowl went bonkers, it wasn't because Memphians bought all those tickets--out-of-towners, our lovely tourists, did.

And while that was a collegiate event, the same thing happens with other marquee sporting events. Remember all those highly-publicized prize fights? Most of those tickets were purchased by tourists and folks who don't live here, and there is nothing wrong with that. It simply is what it is in terms of professional sports and support.

Why is that? I'm inclined to believe that the underyling reasons are similar to those that explain why more people come to Memphis International Airport through connecting flights than those who buy a ticket and start their flights here. It's a mix of perception and reality among Memphians. But I digress.

It's clear to me that professional sport businesses cannot depend on local media as much as they did before to help them build a customer base. Memphians are fanatic about the Tigers and high school sports because they are ingrained in the community.

The Redbirds, The Grizz, professional golf and tennis are not as ingrained because they depend on players who have a thin connection to the community. There aren't enough "local" stories in these franchises.

I mean, this goes beyond the community service events and school visits that endear players to kids who can't buy season tickets with allowance money. I'm talking about building connections with average Memphians who feel like these athletes are representing them because they live like them.

To that end, it's hard to cement and build upon that kind of connection when one is dependent upon one or two minutes, on average, during a nightly newscast or seasonal coverage from the local newspaper to the fan base engaged and informed.

Free publicity has its limits as evidenced in ticket sales and attendance.

*CA: Unbeaten.
*CA: Doomed.
*CA: Biweekly golf news from Larry Rea:

Rea is regular golfer and a member of two leagues -- which is to say he has more time for the game since he retired from the CA sports department in 2001, having been outdoors editor since 1988. Before that, he spent more than two decades as the newspaper's preps editor.

Rea, an 18-handicapper who's self-deprecating about his own game, knows a good story when he sees it. There was the time a playing partner in Little Rock "got so mad at his game that he tossed his bag, clubs and all, into the Arkansas River. He had second thoughts just after the bag left his hand. Too late."

And there's the pair of aces that Rea has witnessed -- "including one where the player sliced the ball and it rolled through three stunned players and into the cup ... on another hole's green."

As for his own shots, Rea says, "I must admit one of my errant fairway shots bounced and hit a fellow member of the Bartlett Golf League. I called him later that night to make sure he was OK, and his wife told me he was on the other line with attorney Corey B. Trotz."

As Rea works on his own game, he'll be gathering news and notes from yours. Start sending your items now and look for the first column on May 29, and following every other Thursday through the summer.