It's as stereotypical as rain-soaked months and flannel shirts tied around the waistbands of jean shorts, but the fact remains that the good people of Seattle consume an absurd amount of coffee.
Coffee bars, coffee shops, coffee in the hotel lobby, coffee at the gas station — and all of it good. I'm not even sure they sell instant coffee at the supermarket — it'd be like stacking cans of Chef Boyardee in Sicily. There are even these bizarre little huts in strip mall parking lots that sell grab-and-go espresso. Until I visited the city recently, I had no idea how much coffee there actually was in Seattle. I haven't seen this many beans in one place since I went to Lilith Fair with my ex-wife.
Seriously, coffee in Seattle is as prevalent as crack here in DC, if crack were made of guns.
Coffee comes in different styles, different concentrations. Take, for example, the news that the Seattle SuperSonics have been sold to an ownership group headed by Clay Bennett, who is president of the Oklahoma City-based investment firm Dorchester Capital. The espresso — quick, blunt, and effective — version of the story is "SONICS SOLD, WILL MOVE TO OKC IN 2 YEARS." The latte version of the story, however, is a drink of a different texture:
The Java
The crux of this crisis for Sonics fans is KeyArena, a rusty '62 Chevy that was given a fresh coat of paint in 1995. Howard Schultz, the venerable Starbucks chairman-turned-Sonics owner who just stabbed his hometown franchise in the back for $350 million, claimed the arena needed $200 million in upgrades in order for the debt of that previous renovation to be eased and for the Sonics to eradicate some of their annual loses. "Upgrades" of course meaning the kind of high-price amenities that will lure new-money techies into luxury boxes while the plebeians fight over $7 hot dogs.
There's no question the Sonics get killed on their lease, having to split suite and concession revenue with the city. Schultz claims his ownership group has lost more than $60 million since purchasing the Sonics and the WNBA's Seattle Storm for $200 million in 2001.
But what he really lost was the bet he made with the city: that Seattle taxpayers would pony up for arena renovations like they did for a new baseball stadium and a new football stadium. That keeping the Sonics in Seattle was as vital to the community as securing the future of the Seahawks and Mariners. It was a major miscalculation, further intensified by a change in political climate. You know you're fighting an uphill battle when the president of your city council tells Sports Illustrated that the Sonics' cultural value was "close to zero."
But what drove the Sonics to Oklahoma City ownership might actually keep them from moving to OKC. The scenario is clear, if a bit danced around, by the new owners: settle on a new lease with a renovated arena in 12 months, or the team relocates to cowboy country. Bennett and his group are businessmen. If the city antes up a sweet deal that knocks down debt and increases team revenues, there's a chance the Bennett group might take it, especially if the New Orleans Hornets somehow end up permanently staying in OKC (not likely, but more on that later). Even if the owners turn down a sweetheart deal, the NBA could step in and reject relocating the 39-year-old franchise (again, not likely, but possible).
Oh, and forget this whiff of a column by Gregg Doyel of CBS Sportsline, arguing that Oklahoma City is just a bargaining chip in an arena negotiation. He uses arcane examples from Tampa Bay's and D.C.'s frustrating history of near-misses with MLB franchises but completely misses the undeniable differences here: that the Sonics have actually been sold to a local owner from Oklahoma City, and that OKC has proven — unlike Tampa Bay when it headhunted any ball club that would fit its boondoggle stadium — that it can enthusiastically support an NBA franchise.
The Milk
This is no bargaining ploy: the Sonics should work on their lassoing skills because they're headed to the ranch, son.
I've been told Clay Bennett is a man of his word, which is pretty easy when your words sound like this: "We intend to honor the lease. We just need to work through that as part of a global solution to the overall effort."
A quick spin of the Okie decoder ring, and that's translated as "just be happy we're not taking the Space Needle with us."
Oklahoma City is going to have an NBA franchise in two years, and it's either going to be the Seattle SuperSonics or the New Orleans Hornets. The former is a slam dunk: owned locally, stuck in an antiquated arena with an unfavorable lease and a hostile political environment.
The latter is a bit trickier: the Hornets have already been embraced by Okies, will play part of their home schedule there next year, and weren't exactly "Les Mis" when it came to moving tickets at the box office in the Big Easy. David Stern has said they'll return to New Orleans because he has to say things like that when Hornets fans are still rebuilding their Katrina-ravaged lives. But tragedies pass and institutional guilt subsides ... or am I the only one waiting for the New York Super Bowl Tagliabue spoke about post-9/11?
There is another scenario, however: the Sonics go to OKC, and the Hornets relocate to KC for the 2008-09 season. Kansas City's Sprint Center is scheduled to open in Fall 2007. Like the arena in Oklahoma City, it's part of a multi-million dollar revitalization campaign that's missing just one thing: a team of its own. If the NBA decides the local owners should be able to lay claim on OKC, and New Orleans is deemed unsuitable for the transient Hornets, Kansas City could be an NBA city following the NBA's all-star swan song in New Orleans in 2008.
These two Midwestern cities are the epicenter of the next great pro sports revolution. They are starving for teams like California and Florida were 15 years ago, and are willing to make concessions and guarantees other cities aren't willing to make to land them. They're the ugly girls who have to put out to land a prom date. (Of course, when you're talking about the Sonics and Hornets, maybe it's the captain of the bowling team rather than the football team.)
A quick aside: the above scenario just underlines what you, dear readers, have known for years, which is that Gary Bettman is a jackass. Could have had Oklahoma City in the late-'90s, opted for Columbus (yawn) instead. Could have Sidney Crosby in Kansas City, but will allow a bunch of blue-haired slot addicts to bail out the Penguins in Pittsburgh. I fully expect that within 10 years, the NBA will be selling out in OKC and KC while Bettman's giving a lecture about the "cost certainty" needed to keep the Seattle Panthers afloat...
The Vanilla
I was only in Seattle for a few days, and I'm not about to draw conclusions about a population based on that visit. But I did find Shane Day's letter to the Seattle Times on Sunday interesting in the context of this debate:
"I always think it's interesting how people in Seattle have negative attitudes toward basketball, which is dominated by black players and appeals more to the black community, while we look kindly on the Mariners and Seahawks, which draw more of a white audience. Yet another example of institutional racism, don't you think? [City Council President] Nick Licata should think about that."
Like I said, I'll let that comment stand, only to add that there are three professional teams in Seattle: two with brand new stadiums, and one headed for Oklahoma City.
The Foam
What's clear about the Sonics is that they are the third team in that three-team town. Seahawks gear is everywhere, from the racks in tourist clothing stores to the backs of local fans. Mariners baseball is treated with a reverence and fervor I didn't anticipate, until I thought about all of those hours logged watching the Griffey teams and the Ichiro teams. There's a generation that grew up with this franchise, and a generation behind that one that still supports it.
Then there are the Sonics. I didn't see a single person walking around in a Seattle jersey while I was there, and it was about 90 degrees outside. I didn't even see one at the NBA Experience fair held last weekend in the shadow of the Space Needle — save for the prop jersey the NBA provided to the carnival barker/DJ at the event. Another telltale signal: the bars don't have Sonics signs in their windows, next to the neon ones for football and baseball.
"Fan Enthusiasm" is a tricky factor in determining whether it's time for a franchise to move on because so much of it has to do with management and on-court success. The team drew over 17,000 fans a game from 1995-99, with an NBA Finals appearance sandwiched in there. From 2000-04, the team couldn't crack an average of 15,700 because it stunk like week-old Seattle salmon. But for close to 40 years, Seattle has been a basketball town, or at least a town with basketball.
Oklahoma City has been one for one season, and a partial one at that. When the Sonics move — okay, for the sake of those poor caffeinated souls in the Northwest, if they move — there will be years of prosperity and years where there are more bulls at the rodeo than fans at the arena.
Basketball's a lot like coffee that way: a good cup is addictive, but enough bad ones and you'll break the habit.
Just ask the Sonics.
Greg Wyshynski is the Features Editor for SportsFan Magazine in Washington, DC, and the Senior Sports Editor for The Connection Newspapers of Northern Virginia. His book is "Glow Pucks and 10-Cent Beer: The 101 Worst Ideas in Sports History." His columns appear every Saturday on Sports Central. You can e-mail Greg at [email protected].
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