The Boston Phoenix
May 7 - 14, 1998

[Fenway's Future]

Fenway's future

What stands between the media hoopla and building a new ballpark?

by Scott Farmelant & Peter Kadzis

As New England -- indeed, as the nation -- contemplates the prospect of the Red Sox building a new ballpark next to 86-year-old Fenway, some local power players quietly wonder whether Boston will be treated to an encore of the long-running melodrama that ensued when the Delaware North Corporation decided to morph the crotchety Boston Garden into the sleek, sterile FleetCenter.

Intimate ballparks, like Fenway and Chicago's Wrigley Field, together with more imperial settings like Detroit's soon-to-be-replaced Tiger Stadium and New York's Yankee Stadium, represent baseball as played by the likes of Williams, Banks, Kaline, Ruth, and Mantle. For these parks, topography is destiny. Here, as nowhere else (with the possible exception of St. Louis's Busch Stadium), the players are one with the playing field. These parks are as much an attraction as the players. They link the past with the present.

Perhaps that's why the startling collapse of a 500-pound beam at Yankee Stadium a few weeks ago triggered a ripple of extraregional interest in the much-touted plans to rebuild Fenway. Columns appeared in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. National sports talk shows hummed. Several days ago, NBC Washington bureau chief Tim Russert broadcast a report from Fenway's right field. Though Fenway politics are parochial, interest in the park and the team -- enjoying its strongest opening in 52 years -- is truly national.

But lurking beneath the media hoopla lies a welter of unanswered questions. What role will City Hall play? Is Red Sox management driving the process, or are team officials being pushed to act? Can the neighborhood be placated? Can the Sox fly solo, or do they need a partner? What will it cost? Who'll pay the freight? How bloody will be the battles to secure the land that is needed? And how will all of this affect the ultimate sale of the Red Sox, which is mandated by the late Jean Yawkey's will?

And are the Red Sox really ready to move? As stories swirl of an impending announcement that the Sox will abandon cozy Fenway for a cash-cow replacement next door, the team has yet to take a concrete step toward a deal. And after four or five years of speculation as to what that deal might ultimately involve, it's no wonder that some in the business and political communities are skeptical, if not cynical, about the future.

Red Sox CEO John Harrington declined repeated requests for an interview with the Phoenix. Meanwhile, the inside players -- lawyers, developers, public relations experts, government officials -- are mum, cautious, or clinical. And with good reason. If one wants a piece of the action, speaking too candidly carries risks. After all, nobody in that crowd wants to be shut out of the high-stakes game of political (and financial) poker should John Harrington and Tom Menino begin dealing the cards.

Harrington and Menino

The Red Sox occupy the pinnacle of the local sports hierarchy. No matter how the Celtics, Patriots, Bruins, or Revolution fare, the Sox rule. The Sox and Fenway are, metaphorically, sacred public trusts. (See "Public Faces," right.) Team management is notoriously tight-lipped and operates behind the almost impregnable thicket of a very real legal trust that would spark envy among the Cabots or Lowells. That trust gives John Harrington, who is only a minority shareholder in the team, the same papal authority enjoyed by tycoons like George Steinbrenner, Ted Turner, or the newest member of baseball's college of cardinals, Rupert Murdoch. (See "Private Faces," below left.)

Public faces

Will the Red Sox receive any public subsidies? The state's most powerful politician, House Speaker Tom Finneran, remains staunchly opposed to using public funds for pro sports facilities. And other leaders, like Acting Governor Paul Cellucci, have yet to step forward with a plan.

The Red Sox have a fairly strong case to make for public aid. Unlike the New England Patriots, who play only 10 home games each year, the Sox generate a significant amount of spinoff revenue and taxes. According to Pat Moscaritolo of the Greater Boston Convention and Visitors Bureau, more than 40 percent of the two million-plus fans who attend Red Sox games travel from outside the state; they spend more than $800,000 per game in and outside the park. With 81 home dates per season, the Sox arguably generate $65 million in annual discretionary spending on local businesses. Mayor Menino may favor the restoration of Fenway Park, but even he can't ignore those numbers. That's why the mayor is willing to help John Harrington get his stadium, provided the facility incorporates several design elements from Fenway Park -- including seating that's close to the action, interesting angles in the outfield, and, ideally, another Green Monster.

Preservationists and neighbors pose a different problem for Harrington. The Fenway Civic Association and the Fenway Community Development Corporation have expressed long-standing opposition to any new stadium in their neighborhood. Government-relations experts say Harrington must soon embark on a public relations campaign if he is to sway opponents. One prominent spin doctor warns that the Sox must undertake the sensitive task without coming off as paternalistic or stand-offish, traits Red Sox executives have been known to display.

"Harrington and [Executive Vice President] John Buckley are the faces that need to be seen," says the government-relations man. "They have to be respectful if they are going to build in somebody's back yard. It takes more than mitigation and payoffs to appease the opposition they are going to face."

Harrington may have clout, but he doesn't have cash. At least not as measured by the likes of Steinbrenner, Turner, or Murdoch. Harrington doesn't have anything close to the kind of capital needed to build a $300 to $400 million stadium. He controls two charitable trusts left behind by late owner Jean Yawkey -- accounts brimming with $67 million -- but state laws prohibit him from using that money on a ballpark. The club's $90 million-plus in annual revenues barely covers the player payroll, administrative costs, scouting operations, stadium upkeep, minor-league development, and travel expenses. The Sox, and thus Harrington, are land-poor. The land upon which Fenway sits is his most valuable asset.

Conventional wisdom holds that its takes a $60 million roster to contend for a World Series title. The Yankees spend an estimated $75 million; Baltimore, about $55 million. The current Sox payroll barely tops $45 million and will grow larger next year by paying $10 million-plus to Mo Vaughn or his replacement.

With player salaries always rising (Harrington gave ace pitcher Pedro Martinez a $75 million pact over the winter, the largest in major-league history), the escalating economics of baseball are catching up with the Sox. On the one hand, close associates say Harrington wants to end an 80-year drought and bring a World Series title to Boston. On the other hand, the man can squeeze only so much revenue from Fenway Park, already home of the highest ticket prices in baseball.

"Unless Harrington moves into a new stadium that boosts his revenues, he won't be able to compete for the best players," says Bob Caporale, the chairman of Boston-based Game Plan, a financial consultant to professional sports franchises and leagues.

Harrington, however, is only half of the power equation. At the moment, Mayor Thomas Menino represents the other half. Increasingly determined to put his physical stamp on the city, Menino seems committed to prodding the Sox behind the scenes. More than one knowledgeable observer has suggested that the flurry of press about a new ballpark has been inspired by a City Hall anxious to put the Fenway planning process into play. And City Hall, in the person of Boston Redevelopment Authority (BRA) executive director Thomas O'Brien, makes it clear in whose field ultimate responsibility rests: "This," he says, "is a real-estate transaction, not a baseball transaction."

Mediating those interests will be Robert Walsh, himself a former BRA chief and a 25-year friend of the mayor, who is development adviser to the Red Sox. He is the agent who will try to bind the double helix of Menino's and Harrington's interests. That's quite a job.

Experts say that ultimately, the high cost of land may push the price of a stadium well past $350 million. But they also say that Harrington could raise enough money by selling stock in the new park through a device known as a real-estate investment trust (an idea that's under consideration, according to the Globe's Will McDonough, Harrington's unofficial public mouthpiece). Other ideas include loans and various financing schemes that involve the sale of Fenway Park, a parcel now valued at $27.7 million.

The San Francisco Giants provide one example of how a team can raise a bundle of money in short order. The Giants expect to raise $40 million for a new $306 million stadium by selling "personal seat licenses" to season ticket holders. Another National League club, the Milwaukee Brewers (who will receive a $230 million taxpayer-funded subsidy on their $320 million stadium), plan to generate $45 million via a scoreboard lease deal and $41 million more by selling the park's name rights to the Miller Brewing Company. Should Harrington move ahead as expected, the big banks will fall over themselves to get a piece of a new Fenway Park -- so long as revenue projections cover debt services.

The long haul

"It's going to take years, maybe as many as five to eight, to get this deal done . . . if it's done at all." So says one of Boston's most prominent development experts.

Private faces

A World Series win would go a long way toward improving the image of John Harrington. So would a new ballpark.

Just six years ago, Harrington was the classic insider, a Boston College alum who'd moved onto bigger things -- the Navy, NASA, government, and finally the Red Sox. Harrington first emerged from the insular Red Sox front office as Jean Yawkey's alter ego in the late 1980s; when she died, in February 1992, he became the club's titular owner. Soon, the sporting press dubbed Harrington "Saint John" for his many civic and charitable endeavors.

As CEO, Harrington earns roughly $700,000 per year, according to insiders. Moreover, he enjoys what today are considered typical big-league perks, courtesy of the club: trips to Florida and New York, free meals, first-class accommodations, and a condo in Florida where he often takes his wife, Maureen.

Thanks to the Yawkey foundations, he supports several of his favorite charities, including the BC baseball team and his local Westwood Little League. For the past seven years, he has hosted the BC baseball team for a week of spring training at the Red Sox' minor-league facility in Fort Myers, Florida. He even hosts a cocktail fundraiser for the team and defrays other expenses related to the trip.

"There's not a greater person in the world," says BC baseball coach Mo Maloney. "I love my wife, my children, and my players, but I also love John Harrington."

Harrington's reputation had peaked by 1994, when he became point man for franchise owners during the costly, debilitating, and ultimately pointless player strike. The Sox executive, by then among the most powerful men in baseball, served as a public spokesman for a group that cried poverty and demanded protection against free-market forces, even as it doled out enormous paychecks to the players.

His standing with the fans suffered as a result -- particularly at the start of the 1995 season, when owners tried to sell minor-league talent as major-league stars. A federal judge crushed the ploy, denouncing the baseball grandees as frauds.

Harrington's stock dipped again in June 1996, when the public learned that he'd mortgaged Fenway Park for a $30 million credit line to cover losses that stemmed from the strike. At the same time, two nieces of Jean Yawkey -- her only living relatives -- denounced him for not inviting them to the memorial service.

An ensuing series of missteps, including Roger Clemens's departure to Toronto (where he won a fourth Cy Young Award), the botched handling of Wil Cordero's wife-beating crimes, and settlement of a nasty racial-harassment charge in the front office, have done little to enhance the status of Red Sox management with the public.

These harsh realities lead many to ask why Harrington, now 62, won't simply sell for a going price estimated at $300 million. Such a move would fulfill his legal obligations to the Yawkey estate. That notion, however, ignores Harrington's true desires.

"Legally, John is supposed to better the team and then sell it," says a friend. "That's the mandate by law. He can do that by building a new park, but it is a very tough deal to swing. But why shouldn't he try? The mandate? Nobody's going to enforce it, not as long as John wants to run the club. And he doesn't want to sell."

"First, you have to consider the inertia and negativism that is native to Boston," adds another. "Look how long it took to replace the Garden. Remember the years of squabbling about a convention center? And don't forget the fumbling and farce that surrounded the Patriots' bid to build a new stadium."

"This is going to be immensely more complicated than anyone has let on," says a third. "You've essentially got two neighborhood guys -- Menino, who grew up in Hyde Park, and Harrington, who's from Jamaica Plain -- at the center of an immensely sophisticated and sensitive enterprise. They've come a long way in their lives. They're both quiet men, determined and more than a little capable of being pigheaded. Those qualities will either be the Fenway project's salvation or its damnation."

Here's what the public knows about the plan to date:

A larger, modern Fenway, modeled on Baltimore's Camden Yards, would be built on a 15-acre triangle adjacent to the old Fenway. The site is bordered by Boylston Street, Yawkey Way, and Brookline Avenue. (In the interests of full disclosure, the Boston Phoenix owns a major tract of that parcel. The new plan would put third-base seating somewhere near what's now the Phoenix newsroom.)

Play would continue in the old park while construction of the new proceeded. The left-field wall, the famed Green Monster, would be remain intact, as would other fragments of the park. The bleachers, center field, and the first-base line would be demolished to make way for development that would help underwrite the new park.

The plan is admittedly a work in progress. But as impressive -- or frightening, depending on your point of view -- as the idea may be, it represents little more than a proposed footprint. The team has yet to survey the land. It hasn't partnered with a developer or even done a basic traffic study. As Gertrude Stein, that arch student of American mores, might have put it: "There is no there there." Not yet.

The opposition

A strong body of public sentiment continues to favor refurbishing Fenway. And a group called "Save Fenway Park!" has been formed to do just that. Development experts kindly, but firmly, dismiss the notion. As wonderful as it sounds to baseball purists, refurbishment would be at least as expensive as rebuilding and wouldn't offer any of the economic benefits to the team, they say. It would strip the club of its most tangible financing option and wouldn't generate enough revenue to pay big contracts. Nevertheless, Arnold Communications has joined forces with Save Fenway Park! and developed radio and television spots that will feature Yankee fans who want to save Fenway. The tag line: "If New Yorkers care this much about Fenway Park, shouldn't you?"

If fans can't save the park, then the Red Sox' neighbors hope to redirect expansion. "If the Red Sox must rebuild in the Fenway, they need to look seriously at building in the opposite direction -- north toward Lansdowne Street and the Massachusetts Turnpike," wrote Steven Wolf and Don Hill, the leaders of the grassroots Fenway Community Development Corporation, in a recent Globe op-ed piece. Expert opinion deems this a better idea than renovating the existing park, but still not as practical as building along the Brookline Avenue-Boylston Street corridor.

Among other advantages, a new ballpark would create the possibility of funneling cars directly from the Mass Pike into parking garages, reducing the traffic impact on the neighborhood.

But money is the issue. "The last platform to be built over the pike was Copley Place in the 1980s, and that cost in the vicinity of $18 million to $19 million," says a politically savvy adviser. "Today, that would cost $40 to $60 million, exclusive of the land taking and necessary infrastructure improvements. It's doable, but even with community opposition, the path of least political resistance is to go straight down Brookline Avenue. The Fenway residents already consider the Sox a lousy neighbor. And whatever it costs the mayor in neighborhood support, he makes up in citywide acclaim if he handles his end of the deal properly. The trick will be to diffuse the fireworks and avoid the type of entanglements that slowed the Fleet and croaked the Patriots."

The land grab

The hottest of all hot buttons is likely to be the process of eminent domain, whereby the government may force landowners to sell to the Sox so that the plan can go forward. If the Red Sox are going to succeed, they must first woo the BRA, the Boston Planning Board, the city council, and, ultimately, the state legislature. If all of those bodies eventually sign off on a new Fenway, the Red Sox must then enlist the services of an entity such as the BRA to do the real work: wresting control of the property from current owners; hiring surveyors, land title attorneys, and appraisers to determine the land's true owners and fair market value; and, finally, demolishing and cleaning up 15 acres of land now dotted with offices, retail shops, and bars. Before any of this can happen, however, somebody must determine who will pay the bill.

"This is an extensive and expensive process," says George A. McLaughlin III, a partner with McLaughlin Brothers, a downtown law firm that specializes in land taking.

Experts say the final cost could easily exceed $100 million.

Though the city assesses the Boylston Street-Brookline Avenue parcel at $33.5 million, experts say the ultimate value will dwarf that sum. "The final figure in a land taking is always higher than the assessed value," says one Boston-based real-estate attorney. "The city's assessed values are almost universally on the low side."

The land's price will rise further still if current property owners have made commitments for future development. If any of the property owners on the Boylston Street-Brookline Avenue parcel have already etched plans on parchment, the BRA, and therefore the Red Sox, will face a lengthy and expensive court case that will generate a significant number of legal fees and, potentially, major awards.

"In a market like this where everything is appreciating, all of these matters will escalate the final cost of a land taking," says the attorney.

Sure to become the baseline for measuring the value of properties adjacent to Fenway will be the 1997 sale of the former Sears, Roebuck & Co. distribution center nearby, at the corner of Park Drive and Brookline Avenue. The 1.5-million-square-foot building sold for $15 million. At $10 per square foot, that would be considered a distressed price in today's market, and current landowners will certainly demand higher rates.

A balancing act

The legal issues surrounding Harrington's dual responsibilities create an ongoing concern for the team CEO. As executor of Jean Yawkey's estate and trustee of the beneficiary, the Yawkey foundations, Harrington has a responsibility to maximize the value of the Red Sox, sell the team, and eventually spend the millions on charity. Building a new park with luxury suites, adjoining museums, and other revenue centers would, as one observer notes, "fatten up the team considerably" and raise the team's value, now estimated at $200 to $250 million, by anywhere from 30 to 50 percent.

"In simple economic terms, a new ballpark will increase the value of the team," says one member of the Red Sox family who is a friend of Harrington's. On the other hand, a new park could well complicate any future sale of the club. Currently, the team has no long-term debt on its books. The price tag of a heavily financed new park, however, will change that situation for years to come. While it's true that the Red Sox are a dream acquisition for many rich men who grew up in Boston, there are few who are willing to pay $300 million-plus for a team laden with debt.

"The sale [of the team] depends on how much debt the Red Sox will have to assume," admits the Red Sox insider. "It's not clear at this point how much debt there will be."

There's a more ominous scenario that could arise. If Harrington doesn't sell the team within several years, it's possible -- though unlikely -- that he will face a lawsuit.

"At some point, the people who benefit from the Yawkey foundations could come to the conclusion that they aren't getting what they should be getting because the executor of the Yawkey estate won't sell the Red Sox," says the team insider. "Until somebody comes to that conclusion, nothing will happen. But it is a very real possibility, one that John is fully aware of."

For the time being, such a legal battle remains an outside possibility. But on a more personal level, Harrington must deal with lingering rumors that in the years before Jean Yawkey's death, he promised that he would sell the club within five years of her passing. Given the extremely private nature of Jean Yawkey's life, Harrington and fellow trustee Bill Gutfarb may be the only two who know whether that's true.

Not even Eleanor "Ellie" Armstrong, a South Carolina resident and Yawkey's dearest friend, knows what Yawkey wanted when it came to the Red Sox.

"She never spoke about the ball club," says Armstrong. "She kept a lot of things private."

"Nobody in the organization knew," adds Arthur Moscato, the team's former ticket-office manager. "That was always a confidential thing between Jean Yawkey, John Harrington, and Bill Gutfarb."

So as a city, and fans across the nation, await definitive word on Fenway's fate, ears are cocked for word from the publicly silent John Harrington.

Says the BRA's Tom O'Brien: "The answer to all the questions lies with the Red Sox."

Scott Farmelant is a Cambridge-based freelance writer. Peter Kadzis is editor of the Boston Phoenix.