Foul Ball
3. Three years of documented financial disclosure (personal income tax returns) for each owner of the entity that owns or proposes to own a franchise.
4. Proposal for a minimum two-season license (with option to renew) that includes a minimum of $25,000 annual fee payable to the city.
5. Provide an annual letter of credit for amount due to the city for the remainder of the license agreement.
6. Provide a letter of reference from the franchise’s [league commissioner] stating that all parties involved in ownership will not be in conflict of any territorial or ownership rules or regulations of any organization or league.
7. Letter from league’s presiding authority endorsing the proposal.
8. Petitioner will assume all costs associated with maintenance and repairs to Wahconah Park.
“Well, I wonder who that was directed at,” I said to Chip. “Especially items 1, 4, 6, and 7.”
“Looks like something Curt Preisser wrote,” said Chip, referring to Mayor Doyle’s press secretary, who many now believe is the de facto mayor of Pittsfield.
“I think I’ll prepare an alternate list of minimum conditions,” I said, “that we can send out to the media.”
Under my own heading, “Response to Park Commission’s Minimum Conditions,” I wrote that while “the eight criteria suggested by the commission effectively knock us out of the box,” they “fail to address a number of important conditions we believe the citizens of Pittsfield will want to consider.” Then I listed our “alternate minimum conditions” as follows:
1. Document the depth of your interest in preserving and restoring Wahconah Park. Include any position papers or statements previously made on the subject.
2. Amount of money you plan to invest, just in capital improvements, at Wahconah Park before Opening Day 2002 (suggested minimum: $250,000).
3. Percent of total maintenance costs, ordinarily paid by the city of Pittsfield—in addition to baseball-related maintenance and repairs—that you are willing to absorb. As a guide, use the amount actually spent over past five years—$500,000, or an annual average of $100,000 (suggested: 100%).
4. If you intend to make a significant investment in Wahconah Park, attendance will need to rise above its recent per-game average of 2,000. Provide a detailed marketing plan that explains how you will achieve this.
5. Percent of local ownership of your franchise.
6. Describe the type of lease or license agreement you would expect to sign and why. Include length, renewal terms and any restrictions. If you are seeking a short-term lease or license, explain what protections you are willing to offer the city in case you leave town after a few years.
7. Document your experience operating professional sports teams. Include the number of teams you have owned and operated, the number of teams still playing, and the number of towns you have abandoned, if any.
8. Provide a letter from your league commissioner accepting Wahconah Park as a permanent home for your team (extra credit: pledge to refrain from lobbying for new stadium).
In the interest of fairness, I did not include a requirement to reveal the existence of any lawsuits that may have been filed or examples of negative publicity (including web sites) in connection with the petitioner’s ownership of a professional sports team.
Before taking Cindy and Paula out to dinner tonight, Chip and I took a dip in the Elitzer pool. Treading water in the deep end, we reminisced about how the two of us ended up so involved with Wahconah Park. With a decision coming on August 20th, we felt the end drawing near.
“In the beginning it was just for fun,” said Chip. “Then it became a campaign. And now I actually think we could make some money.”
“Frankly, I don’t give a shit, I’m only in this for the money,” I said in my best baritone voice. “Frankly, I don’t give a shit, I’m only in this…”
“That would make a great theme song,” said Chip. “Who do you think will play us in the movie?”
“I’ll take Al Pacino,” I said.
“You don’t look anything like Pacino,” said Chip.
“I know,” I said, “but he’s a good actor.”
“You should be played by Robert Redford,” said Chip.
“And who’s going to play you?” I asked.
“Dustin Hoffman,” said Chip.
“You’re better looking than Dustin Hoffman,” I said. “But not by much.”
In the parking lot outside Gon San, where Paula and I would be meeting Chip and Cindy for dinner, we ran into Steve and Helice Picheny, who had just pulled up in their convertible.
“I spoke to Jeff,” said Picheny, referring to Jeff Cook of Cain Hibbard Myers & Cook. “It’s too late to do anything. You didn’t do it the right way. You needed to get somebody that was politically connected on your side.”
“We tried that,” I said. “We went to Andy Mick and BS&E. How much more connected can you get? We said here’s an idea, run with it. We tried to play ball with these guys. We didn’t want anything for ourselves. That came later, after they opposed us.”
“Well, they’re not going to let you have it,” said Picheny. “And it’s too late for me to help. Sorry. It’s very political up there.”
At dinner, I related that conversation to Chip and Cindy.
“It’s more confirmation of a ‘done deal,’” said Chip.
“If it’s a done deal,” said Paula, “why do you guys continue?”
“It’s a challenge,” said Chip. “And anything is still possible. We’re not finished yet.”
“I’m curious to see how far they’ll go,” I said.
“It’s interesting to watch what’s happening,” said Chip. “The more reasonable we get, the more bizarre they get.”
“We’re plumbing the depths of their unreasonableness,” I said.
AUGUST 9
THURSDAY
At least someone is trying to be reasonable. Here are the highlights of Jonathan Levine’s editorial in this week’s Pittsfield Gazette:
The conditions seem crafted to further thwart the Jim Bouton group looking to bring an independent team to Wahconah Park.
But they don’t have a team yet. They’re trying to create something from scratch, something with local identity and permanence, something that will save Wahconah from the wrecking ball.
The parks commission’s first suggested ‘minimum condition’ is a proof of ownership of a team, followed by letters of reference from league authorities. Notably, Larry Bossidy was never asked to provide any of these proofs when the city granted him a succession of ‘exclusive’ windows to get a team for the proposed Eagle stadium. [The Gazette’s pet name for the new stadium.]
Indeed the entire way the commission operates these days has been troubling, prompting the Gazette to make inquiries this summer to the district attorney regarding overall commission procedures.
Commissioners may have legitimate concerns about the Bouton group. But their recent history—and the way they have acted on the proposal thus far—suggests that, yes, the fix may be on.
One of those who is not surprised at the way we’re being treated by the boys up in Pittsfield is Tim Gray. Seems that he and the Housatonic River Initiative have had a similar experience.
“What they’re doing to you is so parallel to what they did to us,” he said. “When I saw that first article about you and Chip in the Berkshire Eagle, I said these guys are going to get slammed. The Eagle wrote editorials bashing our group, too. They called me an eco-Nazi. There was a massive agenda to discredit us.”
“Let me guess,” I said, “they distorted your proposals, too.”
“All the time,” said Gray. “The Eagle said, ‘HRI Out to Destroy Consent Decree’—that was the Doyle sweetheart deal. But our agenda was not to kill the settlement. We were just trying to point out the deficiencies. The Eagle called us the ‘radical South County environmentalists.’”
“That’s their xenophobic game plan,” I said. “They call us the ‘under-fin
anced South County trio.’ Scribner actually called me a carpetbagger.”
“Scribner called me a ‘gadfly from Lee, who shouldn’t be involved in Pittsfield business,’” said Gray.
“But that’s absurd,” I said. “The Housatonic flows through Lenox and Lee and Great Barrington.”
“And all the way down to Long Island Sound,” said Gray. “PCBs are heavier than water and they settle wherever there’s a dam. The dam in Lenox holds most of the PCBs. There are more at the Rising Pond dam in Housatonic. They were left out of the settlement because HRI was shut out of the negotiations.”
“I see people fishing in the Housatonic,” I said.
“Yes,” said Gray. “But they’re not supposed to eat them.”
“Are you still finding pollution?”
“It’s ongoing,” said Gray. “We’re turning in site after site. Back when Gerry Doyle called me ‘the worst thing that ever happened to Pittsfield,’ we only knew about twenty homes. Now we’re up to two-hundred and sixty. Then there’s Vicon [now Energy Answers], next to Wal-Mart, emitting dioxins into the air for ten to fifteen years. Still pumping today. GE workers said barrels have been sent to Vicon.”
“I don’t think most people are aware of that,” I said. “And I’ve never even heard of Vicon.”
“After the settlement, the Berkshire Eagle stopped printing stories about still finding PCBs,” said Gray. “They want people to think it’s over. Ever since Theo [Stein] left, they are not turning up anything. Jack Dew was told about the city dump, but he does nothing about it. We’re fighting a paper and GE. It’s sad for the Berkshires because the Eagle is our main source.”
AUGUST 10
FRIDAY
The Eagle isn’t all bad. In today’s Letters to the Editor they ran my response to Howard Herman’s Sunday column, in which he had offered his tentative support to our proposal—if we can get a team.
Under the headline A TEAM THAT WILL TRULY BE PITTSFIELD’s, I wrote the following:
The reason we should be supported is precisely because we do not already have a team. If we already had a team, and for some reason were not able to obtain a lease for Wahconah Park, we’d have to go shopping for a place to play, like Mr. Fleisig has been doing for the past two years….
Mr. Fleisig has no allegiance to a particular city, let alone a particular ballpark within that city. In fact, Mr. Fleisig has been trying to get a variety of cities to build him a new stadium….
Our local partnership, on the other hand, is committed not only to Pittsfield, but specifically to Wahconah Park…. The reality is that Pittsfield and the Berkshires represent a scarce and potentially valuable opportunity: a proven market with a long tradition of professional baseball in a historic ballpark that fans are passionate about. On the other hand, what these two leagues have to offer—franchises—are currently quite plentiful, Mr. Fleisig being just one example….
We propose to take advantage of that reality, rather than let Pittsfield be a pawn in the traditional league/owner powerplay scenario…. If our proposal… is accepted by the Parks Commission… then Pittsfield will have changed the traditional balance of power between cities and team owners in its favor.
This will be Pittsfield’s team, not Mr. Fleisig’s or anyone else bearing a franchise in need of a home.
Too bad you can’t hear violins playing in a newspaper.
Chip got an email from Jim Goldsmith today. Goldsmith said Bob Wirz has been unavailable, and that we would not be getting a letter of approval from Miles Wolff.
“They’ve decided to back Fleisig exclusively,” said Chip. “Which is no surprise.”
“I’d like to write a letter to Miles Wolff,” I said, “and predict that Bossidy will come waltzing in at the last minute with a Red Sox farm team, and win the vote of the parks commissioners because his only competition is an easily defeated Fleisig who was merely being used by the mayor to block the real competition, which is us. Therefore, the Northern League, in its own best interest, should approve us and allow a fair fight with Fleisig.”
“It won’t work,” said Chip. “The Parks Commission’s vote is just a replay of the Civic Authority vote. The Northern League was content to be a back-up to Bossidy in that situation, too. To call Wolff and cry wolf won’t work with Wolff. Our only leverage is to get the lease.”
CHAPTER 7
“Hey, anybody can have a bad day, OK?”
AUGUST 11
SATURDAY
“We’re all ready to go with 7 West Communications,” said Chip.
This is the telemarketing company we hired to execute our surprise “viewer preference” poll immediately after our presentation to the Parks Commission on Monday night.
“Run it by me again one more time,” I said.
“After our presentation, but before we leave the podium,” said Chip, “I’m going to announce that the viewers watching at home on television can vote for one of the three proposals they just saw—Bouton, Fleisig, or collegiate—by calling one of three 800 numbers on their TV screens.”
“But we’re only going to have a few minutes,” I said. “Then the commissioners are going to tell us to go sit down.”
“Three minutes is all we need,” said Chip. “That’s plenty of time for anyone to get up, walk across the room, and dial the number.”
“What if 7 West gets ten thousand calls in three minutes?” I said. “From what I understand, half of Pittsfield watches these programs.”
“It’s computerized,” said Chip. “7 West has assured me they can handle any number of calls.”
“I’m still worried about a technical glitch,” I said. “If our point is that we’re the people’s choice, and we don’t win our own poll, the game’s over.”
“I did a dry run this morning,” said Chip. “After each call, a recorded message says, ‘Thank you. Your preference for the Bouton—or Fleisig or Collegiate—proposal has been recorded.’”
“Even before you announce the poll on Monday night,” I said, “I should be on my cell phone with 7 West to make sure everything’s set. Then I’ll stay on the line during the poll until we get the results.”
“For the people sitting in the council chamber,” said Chip, “I’ll fill up the three minutes by explaining exactly how these polls are designed to work.”
“If Fleisig wins,” I said, “I can just say I was disconnected.”
“Right,” said Chip, with a nervous laugh.
AUGUST 12
SUNDAY
As part of our presentation to the parks commissioners tomorrow night, Chip and I had hoped to include letters from both the Atlantic and Northern leagues, as evidence of our ability to negotiate for a franchise in either league. But the Northern League is blocking us out, and all we’ve got from the Atlantic League is Chip’s letter to Frank Boulton—a letter which says we agree to “lease” a team for 2002, but which includes an “option to buy” that the league is still thinking about.
“I spoke with Frank this morning,” said Chip. “He said we could use the letter I had sent him, but he still couldn’t get the rest of his people to agree to the $1 million buyout price.”
The asking price for a new Atlantic League franchise is $2 million (four times the quoted price of a new Northern League franchise), but Chip and I had suggested that we be allowed to buy a “crippled franchise” that could be based only in Pittsfield. Our logic was that a franchise that can’t be shopped around had half as much value. And this would be fine with us since we’re committed to Pittsfield.
“I asked Frank,” said Chip, “if we get Wahconah, can we come back and make a pitch to the key people in the league for a ‘Pittsfield only’ franchise? And Frank said he could arrange that.”
“This is actually better than a full commitment from Frank,” I said, “because it means we don’t have to be committed to him beyond 2002. We can still negotiate with either league after we get the lease. We could end up paying less than $1 million for a crippled franchise, or les
s than $450,000 for the Wirz franchise.”
“That’s right,” said Chip. “And Frank is going to wish he had given us a full commitment.”
“And so will Miles Wolff,” I said. “Chip, you’re the greatest.”
“I’m having fun, Jim,” he said.
AUGUST 13
MONDAY
Chip and I stopped at Kwik Print and picked up 100 bound copies of our proposal and drove up to Pittsfield early for a pre-game meal at the Lantern. Eric Margenau, who was coming to be introduced and to be available for questions, would meet us in the City Council chamber. Paula would also be meeting us there, and Cindy wasn’t able to come. Over a double order of bacon cheeseburgers—for energy—Chip and I reviewed our game plan.
“Remember,” said Chip, “we need to go last in the program so we can hit them with our telephone poll.”
“We should get last bats,” I said, “since we’re the home team.”
After a swing by Wahconah Park for luck, Chip and I headed for City Hall, where we were the first to arrive. This gave us time to meet with the guys from Pittsfield Community Television, explain how our phone poll would work, and give them the sheet of paper with the names and numbers.
As the chamber filled up, Chip and I welcomed arrivals as if we were maître d’s at a restaurant. It was good to see so many of our supporters filing in. There were Dave and Grace Potts, who look like two of The Four Freedoms in the Norman Rockwell series. Based on looks alone, Potsy should be elected mayor—Mr. Smith goes to Washington.
Then there was Gene Nadeau, and Anne Leaf, and Sandra Herkowitz, and Elaine Soldato, and Katy Roucher, and a bleacher full of supporters, and it gave us a good feeling. This was our team—the Wahconah Yes! team—showing up for the big game.
“The public comment portion of tonight’s meeting should be quite interesting,” said Chip.
“We’re all set if a fight breaks out,” I said.