When reality stops making sense, perhaps it is time to check our assumptions. Here are two I’ve made about the goals of a baseball franchise:
- A baseball franchise’s primary goal is to attract and retain paying customers
- The best way to attract and retain paying customers is by routinely fielding a team that wins more than it loses
I’m still reasonably confident about the first assertion, but the second is causing problems as it relates to the Padres. Fans have spoken with their mouths and with their pocketbooks, and the consensus seems to be that winning — in and of itself — ain’t all that great.
Baseball is a form of entertainment. People want to have fun at the games, which may or may not have anything to do with wins and losses. We’ve talked about the importance of good marketing and having marquee players on the team, but we haven’t really talked about excitement.
The complaints I hear from Padres fans generally fall into one of two categories:
- The team isn’t committed to winning a World Series
- The team plays boring baseball
In terms of commitment to winning the World Series, we’ve noted that 97% of teams fail in their pursuit every year. It’s how the system is rigged. The best we can do is assemble a good team and then deliver a message of hope compelling enough to make people come along for the ride despite the ridiculous odds against them.
As to the second issue, excitement is largely a function of runs scored. More runs equals more excitement. We’re not placing a value judgment on this statement, just observing that it tends to be true, particularly among the more casual fans who are out to “see stuff happen.”
These people, whose money is just as good as everyone else’s, may view a strong pitching performance as the failure of many hitters to execute rather than the success of one player to keep those others from executing. So even though these customers get to watch a pitcher dominate, that may not fall into the category of “stuff” that they want to see happen.
They come home from what you or I might consider a brilliant game and complain about how boring it was. This isn’t their fault. It may be aggravating, but it’s not their fault.
Before we go any further, let me tell you that I don’t have a solution in mind. What I do have is a question.
Kobayashi Maru
In the Star Trek universe, the Kobayashi Maru test presents a no-win scenario that cadets must face as a test of character. How does that relate to the Padres?
Well, we’re going to play a little game. Basically I’ll give you two scenarios and you’ll tell me which one you prefer and why.
As background, from 2004 to 2007, the Padres won between 82 and 89 games each season. Since 1998, when the Arizona Diamondbacks and Tampa Bay (Devil) Rays joined MLB, a total of 79 teams have finished with a wins total in 82-89 range. Of those, 12 (15.2%) have reached the playoffs, and two (2.5%) have won the World Series.
In the following exercise, we make a few assumptions:
- You are thinking as a business owner or other stakeholder, not as a fan
- In any given year, you can guarantee one of the two outcomes presented
- No other outcomes are possible
- Your payroll and marketing efforts are identical in both scenarios
- You are not James T. Kirk, i.e., you cannot change the rules (don’t tell me that a team can win and play exciting baseball; we both know that, and it misses the point)
My question is this: If you run the Padres and are trying to maximize attendance in a single year, which predetermined outcome do you choose for your team as a means to achieving this goal?
Two Scenarios
| |
Scenario A |
Scenario B |
| Wins |
82-89 |
74-81 |
| Chance of reaching the playoffs |
15% |
0% |
| Chance of winning the World Series |
2.5% |
0% |
| Runs scored per game |
10% below league average |
10% above league average |
Here are some additional questions to consider:
- Does your response change if we extend this to a period of 5 years? Or 10?
- How many wins are needed to offset the lack of scoring? Would 90 wins be enough to make “boring” baseball palatable for fans?
- How many losses are needed to quash the excitement of high-scoring games?
Like I said, I don’t have any answers. I know what I like to see as a fan, and I’m also quite aware that I don’t represent the vast majority of folks who attend baseball games. Short of watching Eddie Oropesa pitch, I can appreciate just about anything that happens on a diamond, but I’m kind of a freak that way.
For many people, the game itself isn’t inherently exciting. So, we make tradeoffs. And I’m wondering whether maybe it’s okay to sacrifice a few wins here and there in the name of capturing the attention of folks who don’t necessarily appreciate the game’s finer points.
Scenario A or Scenario B? Which way do you prefer to fail? 
With Fans Like These, Who Needs Air Conditioning?
by Geoff Young on Jan 21, 2009 (25) Comments
You know the old saw: When the going gets tough, the weak flee screaming like frightened little schoolchildren. Seems one former Padres “fan” has had enough and jumped on the Red Sox bandwagon (I’m flattered that someone actually took my advice). That must have been a difficult decision, but I’m sure now he feels like a real winner. Hooray for that.
From the bandwagoner:
I couldn’t agree more. Wait, we’re talking about 1993 and Tom Werner’s fire sale, right? Hey, that reminds me, be sure to say hi to Mr. Werner for us and thank him for all the good times he showed you in San Diego. His service to the fans and the community remains unparalleled.
Also, remember not to refer to 2004 as “the good old days.” You don’t want to expose your true nature… not right away, at least.
Meanwhile, for those of us still following the Padres, Tom Krasovic at the U-T speculates that attendance could dip below 2 million for the first time over a full season since — drum roll, please — 1993. I love this quote from Sandy Alderson:
First, the optimism is great. Second, count me in the “tickled to death” camp; I’m thrilled with my seats for 2009. But then, I go for the baseball.
Which leads me to my next point. Dex at Gaslamp Ball offers some suggestions on how to help boost attendance. His basic idea is to bring in a few familiar names to throw out the first pitch before games. He’s right that some folks will come out to see, e.g., Darren Sproles (glomming onto this town’s darling franchise makes a lot of sense, and the Padres should do it at every opportunity; people love the Chargers).
This doesn’t affect me because, as I say, I’m here for the games. I don’t go to the movies for the popcorn and soda. My favorite feature in a cell phone isn’t the color purple. But I think Dex is onto something. The Padres need to find a way to grab folks that don’t really care about baseball.
(Incidentally, I’m not the right person to help. My last idea for a marketing slogan went nowhere: “Padres baseball: Sit down, quit your whining, and watch the damn game.”)
This is a blind spot for me. I have a hard time imagining what it’s like not to like baseball. I wouldn’t even know where to start in trying to convince someone who isn’t a fan that it might be worth their while to attend a game. (Worse, I’d ask them what they like and suggest that they do that instead.)
A big-league team, however, can’t afford to be unconcerned with such matters. Selling tickets and jerseys is great, but without some sort of justification — rational or otherwise — folks may not be so eager to buy these things.
Like political and religious leaders, marketers are in the business of selling hope. For whatever reason, the Padres haven’t been able to do that.
Then again, hope isn’t a magical cure. It’s a nice start, but I sense that some folks are desperately seeking something that just doesn’t exist. And when life fails to meet their expectations, they seek something else, be it a shiny purple cell phone or a comfy seat on the Red Sox bandwagon.