Written by There are two hallmarks that make North American (U.S. & Canadian, specifically) professional sports different than their global peers.
The first of these is that North American pro leagues, going back to the turn of the 20th Century, have been have been aligned toward maximizing the value of their individual teams or franchises. Given this focus on prioritizing individual franchise value, we also see the second differentiating hallmark emerge, too, and that is the influence of individual owners. It is hard to separate the historical influence of a George Halas, a Bert Bell, a Walter O’Malley, a George Steinbrenner, a Jerry Buss or a Jerry Jones, had or has in shaping how that league, as whole, operates. The notion of “closed leagues,” that protect the territorial exclusivity of its teams- regardless of success on the field- and that power of individual entrepreneurs to shape the business of sports are unique to North America.
The term, franchise, is never used in connection with European leagues or clubs. It was actually hard for me as an American to understand that there isn’t a London franchise in the English Premier League but about 9 with varying names and varying fortunes. Where, the term franchise is commonly used, however, is in connection with fast food chains. In franchised fast food chains, the individual restaurants are privately owned and operated, but connected by exclusive agreement to the larger chain. This parallel between fast food restaurants and North American pro teams is pretty valid. Sure the New York Knicks, with a Forbes valuation of $4 billion dollars, are a good deal more valuable than a say group of Burger King restaurants. But they are similar in that both operate on exclusive, territory protected by the larger entity, and are at their core, fairly small businesses, often reflecting both the advantages and blind spots of their owners and leaders.
So it isn’t surprising then to learn that individual franchises in MLB, MLS, NBA, NFL or NHL are unevenly led, at times, wildly so, sometimes brilliantly, sometimes very badly. However, over the second half of the 20th Century and the first two decades of this century, league-led business models have compensated for all but the worst instincts or shortcomings of individual franchise owners. The leagues then like the chain are big complex businesses with highly evolved processes. Are the franchises? The answer is sometimes yes, and sometimes, not so much.
This week brought a range of behaviors on the franchise level into some focus with acts ranging from the blind, to ignorant, to the willful, being highlighted.
Columnist Jerry Brewer detailed several of these in an important article in the Washington Post on Monday, where he laid the blame on bad cultures at the feet of men. Brewer wrote:
“With appalling regularity, our most disregarded sin keeps resurfacing in sports. Men mistreat women. Select egregious examples bleed into the news: the current unraveling of past sexual harassment within the New York Mets organization, the ongoing investigation into the Washington Football Team’s history of toxicity and the past corrosion in the Dallas Mavericks’ workplace and in the Carolina Panthers owner’s box. In the future, there will be more. There’s always more.”
For Brewer, the common dominator is an appallingly toxic brand of masculinity, and he is very likely correct in that assertion, but there is more to it that. Organizations, and the people who comprise them, usually are as good or as bad as they are expected to be or the organization allows them to be. That small organizations reflect the powerful people who lead them is not unexpected. But in 2021 pro sports franchises are too highly valued and too publicly important to be allowed to do whatever they want or be given the benefit of the doubt about bad behavior that starts at the top and trickles down, or is tolerated as it bubbles up. This isn’t just a franchise problem, it is a league problem, and honestly, it is a sports problem.
Just yesterday, Seattle Mariners president Kevin Mather, a baseball business side lifer, or at least since 1989, resigned after racially and ethically insensitive comments he made to a Rotary organization in February surfaced. A slightly different scenario than what Brewer writes about in the Washington Post. But if the team president is making hurtful and insensitive comments to the local Rotary Club, how can anyone within the franchise expect to report misconduct?
This bundle of concerns about the cultural failings of individual franchises demands consistent league-based oversight. Yes, the dynamic influence of owners and the exclusivity that franchises enjoy make North American pro sports the envy of the world, but a “closed league” cannot be allowed to a “closed off league,” meaning a league that is operates outside the realities of the modern workplace, where inclusiveness and belonging are here to stay.
For an example of what this league level oversight might look like, one need look no further than the leadership Adam Silver demonstrated in 2014, in leveraging Los Angeles Clippers owner Donald Sterling out the league, albeit with two billion dollar check as a parting gift, after racist comments he made became public. Silver was brilliantly decisive but such clear action can’t be limited to Silver, alone. It needs to be the consistent position of each and every league and every franchise owner needs to know this. They are after all not clubs (boys or otherwise), they are multi-billion dollar businesses.