Like a cold engine that sputters when the key is turned, women's pro basketball as gotten off to a scattered start in America. There have been more than a few abortive attempts, and one wheezy, short-lived ignition, but we're still waiting for all six cylinders to fire at the same time.
There are those who think that now is the moment, with national attention bound to be focused on the American push for Olympic gold. But even if the USA National team comes through in prime time and in high style, will it be enough?
Sadly, the answer is a qualified maybe. With established professional leagues struggling to stay on even keel, financially and geographically, a startup like the American Basketball League can't help but balance on the edge of disaster. But at least the founders of the ABL (or whatever league emerges) have plenty of mistakes they can learn from--and avoid.
Salary control: Everybody has to make money for any professional sports league to work, but at the same time people have to be able to afford to come to the games. It appears the most equitable arrangement all around is a salary cap of some sort that more or less equalizes the amount of money owners can spend. In an ideal world, the free market would decide salaries, but reality shows that one rich owner can skew salaries to such an extent that it can throw a whole league into disarray.
For example, the Seattle Mariners' $8 million-plus offer to Ken Griffey Jr. means that Cleveland's Albert Belle must get as much or more--and every player's salary just ratcheted up in turn.
Players, rightfully, should take all they can get, so owners must devise a mechanism to keep salariesat a certain percentage of revenue. Basketball is a pretty cheap game to put before the fans, so the percentage should be relatively high. After all, it's the players who make the game, not the owners.
Franchise stability: The NFL is learning the hard way what happens when fans are betrayed--and the credibility the league lost can never be regained. ABL owners must agree to some form of territorial stability so that a fan base can slowly be built. The ABL can't expect to be a rip-roaring success until mothers and daughters have been going to games together for years--and when granddaughter finally comes along for the fun, then you have a real major league operation.
Obviously, that's 20 years down the road, but the ABL will never get there if franchises are so poorly run that they change addresses every two years.
Marketing savvy: If the ABL is going to work, it has to be designed for the long haul--which means that individual players are less important than teams, and that style must take a back seat to substance.
It is, of course, heresy to say that a league should promote teams instead of players. Look at the NBA, doubters will say. Yes, well, let's look at the NBA. Michael Jordan will ask for $20 million, and he's 33. How many kids will be wearing Chicago Bull jerseys in three years? Remember Larry Bird? He retired just a few short years ago, and now the Celtics can't even sell out a new arena. Sure, the league is a marketer's dream right now, but it's all about style and fashion--and style and fashion change.
What happens when it's no longer cool to wear basketball uniforms and Starter jackets? What happens when only basketball players wear basketball shoes? What happens when there's no one to market, or the available superstars are all as charming as Derrick Coleman?
Allowing the players to become the focus of the league is a huge mistake. Much more important are the teams, because fans are attached to teams--at least those who are going to go most of the games. (Do people buy season tickets to Patrick Ewing and hand them down from father to son? Or do they buy season tickets to the New York Knicks?)
But the most vital part of the equation for the ABL is to market the game itself. Women's basketball has its own charms, its own style and its own strategies, and falling into the trap of imitating the NBA when it comes to marketing will induce fans to expect NBA-style play--which they will not see. The women's game must stand on its own, and it must be marketed intelligently, and not to maximize t-shirt sales the first year.
Cater to the fans: Everyone involved in the league must work very hard to make sure the fans feel good. General managers, coaches and players need to understand that the fans are the reason they're getting paid, and that basketball talent alone won't close the deal.
If the fans get their money's worth--in both action and attention--they'll come back. If they don't, there's just no chance.
Let everybody play: Don't have any rules about how many non-Americans can be on the rosters. The best way to establish a league is to make it the best in the world, and that won't happen if there are artificial restraints on player acquisition. For example, there's no doubt American baseball is the best in the world. The Japanese league could be, but owners limit the number of foreigners--which guarantees that the league will be second-rate.
If the five of the 10 best players aren't American, who cares? I still want to see them play. And if 50 of the top 100 aren't American, that's fine too. Put the best product on the floor, promote it well and see what happens.
But even if all the internal issues work themselves out, the key question still remains: Are Americans willing to spend enough money on women's professional basketball to support a quality league?
At this point, most people involved in women's basketball ritually reply `Sure'--but nobody really knows. The only way to find out is to develop and nurture the highest quality league possible, and hope that there's room for one professional team sport for women in the entertainment marketplace.
But I know this for sure: If the league isn't well-organized, isn't stable and isn't fan-friendly, it won't matter. The ABL's margin for error is very slim--and the odds of success probably are about the same as a long three-pointer by Jennifer Azzi.
