Minor-league baseball searching for crowds
Minor league teams use many methods to try to attract people
"Take me out to the ball game" just doesn't cut it anymore. In Utah, where three minor league franchises operate, "Take me out for some fun," might be more appropriate.
"We're not in the business of wins and losses," says Ogden Raptors president Dave Baggott. "We're in the business of entertainment."
Whether its postgame fireworks, Fat Elvis Night or Christmas in July, Baggott is a believer in the concept of putting on a show. IOC Bribery Night was a big hit last year and hopes are high that this summer's proposed French Judge's Night (where fans get up and switch sides of the stadium midway through the game) will be as well.
"It's just about having fun," says Baggott. "When people come and leave with a smile on their faces that makes me happy even if we lose 10-1."
In other words, he explains, it's entertainment and then, "by the way, we're playing a baseball game as well."
Putting the fans first, says Baggott, is why the Raptors are bucking a recent trend of declining attendance at the major and minor league levels. Ogden drew 109,360 people to home games last season — tops in the eight-team Pioneer League. Over 36 openings, the Raptors drew an average of 3,037 per game.
"We put the fans first, that's why," says the 13-year baseball executive, who gained notoriety for making the old Salt Lake Trappers a box office success. "Come to one game, and if you don't come back, it's our fault."
It's a philosophy that is paying dividends in Ogden. After modest attendance increases in three years at makeshift Serge B. Simmons Field, the Raptors moved to brand new Lindquist Field in 1997. Attendance surged by nearly 1,000 people per game and, aside from one annual decline, has grown each season.
The same, however, cannot be said for the Salt Lake Stingers. They've seen attendance drop for seven consecutive years. An eighth is a real possibility with nine of the smallest crowds in franchise history already in the books for 2002. The low point came on April 23 when just 3,152 tickets were sold — that's more than 7,000 fewer than what the franchise averaged in its first season at Franklin Covey (Quest) Field in 1994.
"I think the economy has something to do with it," says Stingers general manager Dorsena Picknell. "And as wonderful and great as the Olympics were, so many people bought tickets and it affected everyone. There's only so many dollars to go around."
The Stingers aren't alone in losing business. The Jazz, Grizzlies and local college programs also suffered at the turnstiles. The ongoing war against terrorism and a tight job market have created an uncertain environment.
You can be the first to comment on this story.