Bring Socialism to the Ballpark
Color me a socialist. Not in the political sense, but in the idea that people who come to sporting events should, by and large, be treated equally and fairly.
It truly bothers me when – at the ballpark – the rich only get richer. I certainly understand that the more you pay for your ticket, the better your seat, and thus the better your view.
Where my hide starts to get chapped is when the more you pay for your ticket, the better concessions that are available to you. For this thought exercise, I am putting aside the various and sundry stadium clubs that have premier seating and premier services, and thus premier food and beverage. I am talking about sitting in what used to be referred to as “box” seats as opposed to reserved, loge, or the bleachers. It should not be that hard to make sure that the same food is available to all fans, regardless of the price they paid for admission.
Where this bee really gets into my bonnet is with balls thrown into the stands by the players. Sure, you pay more for a ticket, you are closer to the action, and you are more likely to catch a foul ball. That is just how it works.
And that is pretty democratic – no one controls how many or how far foul balls will be hit, and thus many times per game a ball reaches the upper deck where a fan with a lower-cost ticket has a chance of in-game glory and long-term bragging rights; not to mention an incredible souvenir.
But over the past five to 10 years, we have seen a proliferation of players throwing balls into the stands after the mid-inning toss-around and after the third out is recorded. And nearly every one of these balls ends up in the seats closest to the action, where the rich fans get richer.
I have given this a ton of thought, and was heartened when Steve Ballmer, the exuberant owner of the Los Angeles Clippers, announced that at the team’s new arena there will be T-shirt cannons that reach the upper decks. The T-shirt cannon is the basketball corollary to the between-innings ball toss into the stands. These predominantly go to fans in the most expensive seats. Well, not at the Intuit Dome, and, if I had my way, not at your local ballpark, either.
A couple of weeks ago, I was lucky enough to be invited to sit in the Dodgers’ Dugout Club. This is the premier seating I referenced above. I was sitting close enough to hear the players chat on their way to and from the field. After the last out of the top of the third inning, the Dodgers tossed the ball around the infield and it ended up in the glove of second baseman Gavin Lux. True to form, Lux tossed the ball into the stands. But, he didn’t just lob it into the luxury seats. He gave it a heave and sent it up to the loge level, where eager fans were shocked and excited to be getting the ball. I remarked to the people I was sitting with that the kid from Wisconsin gets it. With his Midwestern values, Lux understands the importance of hard work and the need for everyone to have a chance to be rewarded. I wish more players did this.
However, I am not naïve enough to believe that players will suddenly start chucking balls to the farthest reaches of the stands. That is why I previously recommended to the Dodgers’ chief marketing officer that at least a few times each game, a player should toss the ball to an usher (rather than the fans in general) and that usher should deliver the ball to a fan in another section. I cannot state with any authority that the ball would mean more to the kid in the upper deck than the kid in the lower bowl, but I can state that it would somewhat level the non-playing field for fans. Just because your parents cannot afford four tickets at $150 each doesn’t mean you automatically lose the chance to go home happy with a game-used souvenir.
It is the small things that teams can do to grow the game. Give that kid in the far reaches a ball, and she is a fan for life. Her family tells that story to their friends and neighbors, and they are more likely to shell out for tickets, parking, hot dogs, peanuts, and beer. Attendance would increase. Equally as important, fan engagement would increase. Fan excitement would increase. And, if those things continue to occur, team values would increase, which, let’s face it, is what owners truly care about.
One more minor suggestion: A premier seat owner knows they will not be using their tickets on Tuesday night. They call the team and inform them that the seats will be empty. In return for opening up the seats, the seat owner is given a credit to be used for future tickets or concessions. The team then sends an usher to the upper deck and presents a family with a special surprise: You all get to sit in the unoccupied premier seats for the duration of the game, and you get all of the goodies that go along with that. Heck, the team can even mention the name of the premier seat owner who bequeathed the seats to this unsuspecting family.
With electronic ticketing and so much information known about attendees, this is low-hanging fruit. It would not take very much to make this happen every night. The marketing boon derived from changing a family’s game-viewing is nearly unquantifiable. Some team – maybe the Yankees, who always seem to have tons of seats open in their most expensive section – needs to institute this plan. And soon. Attendance may be up in MLB this year, but if the sport we love is going to continue to be relevant for future generations, we need to use every tool available to create fans for life.
Crash Davis says that strikeouts are fascist. I think seats and souvenirs need to be socialist. In today’s game, we cannot do much about the former; but teams certainly can fulfill the dream of the latter.
PLAY BALL!!
