Miles's blog

Now it’s Sports Authority which wants its name on a stadium. Invesco Field at Mile High never really had a ring to it, but we had all gotten used to it. But, Invesco, we barely knew ya. Out with the old corporate name and in with the new. Invesco had at least one redeeming quality, it was only a single name, Now “Sports Authority Field at Mile High” will be the announcers’ burden.

This follows so many other similar changes. The Houston Astros used to play in Enron Field. Of course that couldn’t stay in place, now it is Minute Maid Park. (The first name may have been fitting. The team went to the World Series in 2005 and is now embarrassingly the worst team in baseball.) Corporate reshuffling in San Francisco saw their baseball stadium open as Pacific Bell Park, briefly be called SBC Park and now go by AT&T Park. Ironic since the classic Jefferson Starship song “We Built This City on Rock and Roll” about San Francisco contains this line:

Someone always playing corporation games; Who cares they’re always changing corporation names.

One of the worst examples of this kind of crass greed is in Miami, where the Dolphins have played in a single facility with seven names since 1987. For a single year only it was Land Shark Stadium, to promote Land Shark Lager. I kind of like the image though. Too bad it didn’t last. The team could have changed their name from the Florida Marlins (a picturesque but not very frightening fish) to the Miami Sharks. They could have changed their mascot to a cleverly-named, but silly-looking, “Billy Marlin” to Chevy Chase’s Land Shark from Saturday Night Live. Unfortunately, Land Shark Lager just didn’t have the financial wherewithal to hang in there and the place is currently called Sun Life Stadium. Another boring homage to a financial services company, joining Comerica Park (Detroit), Chase Field (Phoenix), Citi Field (New York), Bank of America Stadium (Carolina), M&T Bank Stadium (Baltimore), and others I will not bore you with.

Communications companies are big stadium sponsors. In addition to AT&T Park (and AT&T field, a minor league field in Chattanooga), Qualcomm and U.S. Cellular have fields. Minute Maid is not the only food company with a field, but they are only named after things you drink (Coors, Busch Tropicana), not things you eat (unless you count Heinz or Petco; I assume you would not include Wrigley).

As an old-timer this kind of renaming is troubling. Athletic fields are more than merely buildings surrounding a piece of grass. They possess a character, and their name is just as much part of their personality as it is for a person. After all, would Fenway Park still be a legend if they renamed it Citgo Field? (Although there is already a sign in place.) Can you imagine the Yankees playing in their new stadium had their egotistical owner called in Steinbrenner Stadium? Even bankrupt Frank McCourt, apparently willing to secure loans from shady characters, is not considering selling the naming rights to Dodger Stadium.

The old names of demolished stadiums carry their own nostalgia. Ebbets Field, although named after the owner who built it, maintains a certain cachet. Willie Mays made his legendary catch in New York’s Polo Grounds, an anachronism which seem to fit. Philadelphia teams for years played in the Baker Bowl. Pittsburgh had Forbes Field, while Cincinnati had Crosley Field. I spent much of my youth in Comiskey Park.

These old buildings named after old men were often built in the middle of neighborhoods, and integrated themselves into the lifeblood of a city. The man and the stadium became synonymous allowing the place to generate affection among the fans. Even old Comiskey, the reviled tightwad who ruled the White Sox for decades, was a more sympathetic character than U.S. Cellular (which almost certainly will be bought out by Verizon or something prompting another name change). No one is going to get all misty-eyed over their attachment to PNC Park or FedEx Field.

# posted by Miles Madorin : 8:50 AM