Who Would Pay to Rename Wrigley?

All this talk of renovating Wrigley at the taxpayers' expense (and let's face it, no matter how the taxes are collected, bonded, spent, or repaid, it all comes down to people paying taxes through the nose) has stirred up a lot of conversation about other potentially disconcerting ways for the Cubs to bring in revenue. While we fans are still partial to the idea of selling 2011 Cubs World Series Champion memorabilia as an ideal money-making scheme, the likelihood of that is { }.

Cubs think tank members in blogging and mainstream realms agree that the most obvious way for the Cubs to collect some quick cash is to peddle their most attractive commodity: Wrigley Field. More precisely, the naming rights. Wrigley by any other name would still smell like piss, so let's get over the sentimental attachment to our former overlords, shall we? It wasn't named Wrigley before that family owned it, so why shouldn't the name change now that we're 2 or 3 owners removed from their gum-chewing legacy?

Even if the Cubs do decide to sell the naming rights to their North-Side shrine, they still need to find a buyer. I've come up with ten possibilities, and, in a departure from the norm, most of them aren't even sarcastic options. As far as I know, none of the companies I'm suggesting have naming-rights deals with other arenas, fields, parks, stadia, etc. Some with good reason. Let me know what you think about the prospect of watching the Cubs play in, say, Apple Field.

1. Apple
They've got the money. They don't typically shy away from extra publicity. Maybe it could come with a decent Wi-Fi package for the fans as well.

2. Frontier
Frontier Communications is an ISP/telecom provider typically in smaller suburban and rural communities, and they recently acquired a ton of customers from Verizon service areas. Somehow this resulted in an enormous dip in their stock value. Telecom companies typically like naming-rights deals because brand awareness is huge for them. The publicity of owning the rights to the field soon to be known as formerly-known-as-Wrigley would give them a much-needed competitive edge in the market. It's a bigger doubt, though, that this smaller player in the telecom game would be able to pay out big bucks.

3. BP
Don't laugh. Or laugh, whatever. But BP, we know, has the money. They also have a brilliant history sponsoring crosstown cups. What they don't have is anything to lose. Yes, BP Field would make Cubs fans mad and unhappy. But guess what? They already are. BP and Cubs fans have nowhere to go but up, so I look at this as a low risk, high reward venture.

4. Kraft
I don't have a real good reason for this one other than that they could use a stadium deal, they have a ton of money, and I think my sons would enjoy Cubs games more if the vendors sold Lunchables.

5. Mars, Inc.
Food/candy giant. Recognizable, well respected name. Unobjectionable products. Oh, and Wrigley is their subsidiary, so they could keep the field named Wrigley and finally pay up on the 30 bagijillion dollars of free advertising they get every year. Or they could sue the Cubs for trademark violation for desecrating their brand by tying their name to a urine-soaked frat house. I prefer the bagijillion dollar option, though.

6. Bank of America
Kiefer Sutherland tells me that Bank of America is a proud partner of the Chicago Cubs. This is only natural. Let's put that bailout money to work at Wrigley. I mean, at BOA Ballpark. But seriously, the banking industry is another one where name recognition means a ton. This investment would pay off.

7. Comcast
From what I hear, Comcast customers are just as tormented as Cubs fans, so this makes all the sense in the God-forsaken world. It's another huge, competitive market, and Comcast stands to benefit greatly. Couple that with the 25% stake the Ricketts family has in Comcast SportsNet Chicago, and it's a win-win for everybody.

8. Friends of Meigs Field
Meigs Field got destroyed in a midnight raid by Mayor Daley. I'm sure the group that mourns that loss would take some pleasure in bringing Meigs Field back home to Chicago in the confines of Daley's least favorite baseball franchise, even if they couldn't land planes there. But they have no money. So . . . yeah. No.

9. Geico
The gecko. The cavemen. The money with eyes. The dude from Brothers McMullen and She's the One who's not Edward Burns. There can be no doubt that Geico isn't afraid of brand saturation. Why not add the Cubs as just one more spokesman? I see no reason. Making the decision to redub the Friendly Confines Geico Park is so easy, even a Cub could do it.

10. TD Ameritrade
Ever heard of synergy? Of course you have, and your psyched about the opportunity to see it happen for the Cubs. The Ricketts family is no stranger to paying for Cubs business with TD Ameritrade money. Okay, actually, everyone else in the world but the Ricketts is a stranger to that. Synergy. This is unbreakable. This is inevitable.

A Lower Cubs Payroll: I Don't Even Want to Look

When a loud crash at your door sends you running to find this, trust me, you're not glad you looked.

You know that feeling you get when you're resting comfortably at home and a loud and/or unexpected noise shatters the silence? That jolt of adrenaline followed by a downward tug on your pancreas? When you have kids, that sound is often a dull thud; you freeze in the deafening quiet that follows, waiting to hear if a shriek of pain or some kind of tortured sobs will come next . . . you hope for just a controlled "Ouch!" You're scared to know what made the noise, but it's your duty to go check on the safety of your offspring.

In other instances, say in the middle of the night, it's just some kind of knock or far-off crash that is probably the wind, but that's not a good enough explanation. My wife insists it never is. I have to go check it out and see what the cause is. My default answer is "car door," but it's never satisfactory until I have done a quick survey of the house, made sure the kids are still in bed, and fend off any possible intruders who have clumsily made their presence known. Again, it's my responsibility to check it out, but honestly, I don't want to know what made the noise. If it really is a burglar, what am I going to do? Grab a knife? The gun I don't own? A flyswatter or some Lemon Pledge? I'd probably just tell him or her, "Hey, could you wrap it up and get out? My wife is expecting the 'all clear' and I want to be able to pass this off as a car door slamming. That can't happen if you keep banging around." I don't know what I'd do. I don't want to know. All things considered, I'd rather not investigate the noise.

One Sunday morning I had no choice, because it was one of those sounds you just can't ignore, as much as I wanted to: a loud, sharp bang followed by the unmistakable melody of glass smashing into smithereens. It was the day before the night before Christmas, actually. I ran down to the front door to see what was the matter, and I saw that a storm caused my storm door to shatter. I'll stop rhyming and get to the point. When I solved the mystery behind the noise, there was nothing I could do. Snow was packed up on the outside of the door, and any adjustment from the inside was sure to dislodge the glass trapped between the outer screen and the lower, unbroken pane inside. So I just left it. Until March, actually. It stayed pretty crappy outside for a long time, and I just didn't have the time to deal with that mess. We had other doors we could exit through.

As it turned out, and as it very often does, that scary noise didn't actually require the attention one's instincts tend to ascribe to it. Such startling sounds might be worth a look occasionally and demand a response every now and then, but a lot of the time it's just not worth the investigation. Even if it is something significant, there's probably not much I can do about it.

What the Past Year Has Told Us About the Ricketts(es)

Pete, Todd, Laura, and Tom Ricketts discuss plans to launch a Fat Albert cover band.

I've heard from a lot of Cubs fans who believe the Jim Hendry not-yet firing (and the fire sale that still lacks the spark The Boss told us was essential for such matters) tells you all you really need to know about the Ricketts family. There isn't consensus on what that is, but people's opinions on the matter have galvanized considerably. Here's the gist of some of the varied views:

The Ricketts are typical fans who plan on catering to their own kind. They don't know what they're doing, they're fueled by emotions and dreams and rainbows and latent racism, and deep down they probably have no desire to win as long as everyone enjoys their time at the ballpark.

We knew the Ricketts were fans when their names emerged as candidates to buy the team, but I don't know what they've done that reflects the mob mentality of fans in general. Some say the Ricketts were behind Milton Bradley's suspension. Others point to the decision to stay in Mesa. In my mind, both of those were no-brainers although the former seemed more like a vitriolic response straight from Hendry while the latter resembled shrewd business and political manipulation, not blind adherence to tradition. And keeping Hendry hardly represents the typical fan sentiment.

I just don't see how a fan mentality has reared its irrational head in any significant way just yet.

The Ricketts are slimy suits who care only about money. I try to make it clear whether by illustration or direct statement that I know nothing about business (the lack of ads on this site says that quite loudly), but my gut tells me that the net return on the Ricketts family's investment in the Cubs is somewhere along the lines of -$800 million. People like to point to George Steinbrenner's windfall from increasing the value of the Yankees franchise 100 fold, but The non-Springsteen Boss bought low on the Bronx Bombers. The Cubs are never going to be a $2 billion franchise, let alone a $100 billion franchise.

Yes, they have implemented a number of revenue gimmicks: the ticket pre-sale, the noodle, and the Who Wants to Be A Middle Reliever? game show. But keeping Hendry and endorsing his "we're not rebuilding, we're competing" mentality is not the move of someone who prizes revenue over winning. Hendry doesn't exactly follow the Andy McPhail Guide to Winning on the Cheap. If the Ricketts just want revenue, their going about it all wrong, and I don't think they got rich by being that stupid.

A Portrait of Cubbieness

Ricketts and Hendry reflect on the Piniella era: it's not success, but it ain't that bad.

Now that we know Lou Piniella's days as manager of the Chicago Cubs have a definitive number (while Jim Hendry's do not) and we've all endured the initial explosive reaction from media both social and mainstream, it's time to take a deep breath of whatever gaseous substance you wish to inhale and look at where the Cubs really stand. Between the lines of yesterday's press conference is a rather clear portrait of what the near future of the Cubs is going to look like.

While I can't argue too fiercely with interpretations to the contrary, I don't think it's that bad. Let's strip down yesterday's off-the-field developments to bare facts.

Lou Piniella is retiring after this season. I always thought this was the plan, but until yesterday Lou had discussed his longterm outlook with a certain je-ne-sais-Favre. Speculation swirls as to why Lou's agent let the news slip at this point in the season, and I can answer that question with resounding certainty: I don't care. I mean, really, between the trades that aren't happening and the NL Central deficit that isn't shrinking, there isn't much left to distract from. The reasons behind the news leak or Lou's decision to retire construct a thoroughly boring mystery. I trust Lou when he says he's retiring because he wants to retire and not because of the product on the field. No one really cares about the why, it's the what next that's generating real buzz. And Lou's replacement is far less important than the matter of Hendry's job security.

Cubs Facts that Don't Make Me Angry

On any given day, the Cubs have a really solid chance of winning, even if it's against the Pirates.

Pat Hughes is the best radio play-by-play man I've ever listened to on a daily basis.

Watching the Cubs lose in a hopeless summer is still better than the hopeful baseball-free winters.

There are an awful lot of Cubs fans that I like an awful lot.

Alfonso Soriano is no longer painful to watch.

The next heartbreaking playoff loss appears to be quite a ways off.

Ticket prices are going down like . . . well, like the Cubs.

Starlin Castro is still in the majors.

Tyler Colvin can hit.

The pitching has been pretty good this year, and I've always felt that bad pitching is much more frustrating to watch than bad offense.

Whether Tom Ricketts wants to run this team as a fan or as a businessman, he's going to have to put a better product on the field to be happy.

I really like the calzones at Wrigley.

However awful the walk-up music is, I haven't heard any Miley Cyrus or Justin Bieber yet.

Even if they did, a little "Party in the U.S.A." never hurt anybody.

Most people won't admit it, but Carlos Zambrano spoke for all of us.

I'm pretty sure I have a fear of success, and the Cubs have been very understanding in that regard.

The fire sale is inevitable. And who doesn't love a sale?

The Cubs Best Outfielder Is Ivy

I love this commercial. It features a lot of the things I loved most about my first trip to Wrigley. The things I loved back in 1981 when my idea of advanced baseball wisdom was the fact that Ivan DeJesus wasn't pronounced I-vuhn de-JEE-zus. The scoreboard changed by hand. The brilliant colors. The flags. The ivy. Harry Caray. He was real then, not a statue, and there were no light standards protruding from the Wrigley Field rooftop. But at that time, I had no idea who the players were. Honestly, at my first Cubs game, my familiarity with the game (and our seats) was so poor, I wasn't even sure where the infield was. It didn't matter. Just being there was enough to make the experience, the Wrigley Field experience, a religious conversion of sorts.

I hate this commercial. Like the other facets of the Chicago Cubs 2010 marketing campaign, not a single player makes an appearance. It's all ivy and blue skies and icons. It tells me I should love this team because of something bigger than any one person. It reminds me that the Chicago Cubs are all about feeling good and loving life and having fun. 2009 was a freak storm, an erroneous blip, a flaw in the baseball diamond. 2010 will be good again. It will be pure and Milton Bradley free. Pepin le Bref will be a messenger of joy. And the quality of the baseball being played in these hallowed halls need not factor into the equation.

Don't manipulate me, Chicago Cubs marketing staff. I'm a fan, and that's not changing. But don't try to tell me the baseball itself doesn't matter. That's the wrong message to send. Show me Cub homers. Show me Cardinal strikeouts. Show me prospects whose stars are still rising. More importantly, show me an owner willing to pay the price of winning a World Series. I've had your back this offseason, Tom Ricketts. I won't be so kind if you play this whole season on the cheap.

UPDATE: A million bonus points to Jodi for pointing out that the commercial is probably for WGN, not the Cubs specifically. What's more, the sale leveraged transfer of the team means those two entities are no longer under the same umbrella. My fault. Mea culpa. Mia Farrow. Let's not forget, baseball makes me stupid.