Wrigley bricks no place for ad space

September 8, 2004

BY JAY MARIOTTI SUN-TIMES COLUMNIST

Even in the gathering gloom of a bitter loss, the old lady never looked better, especially when the sun and shadows converged in the bleachers at twilight. It served to remind us that Wrigley Field, though decaying like a pair of dentures, remains baseball's most beautiful piece of landscape.

And why it would be the height of greed and arrogance if the Cubs, who need another revenue stream like Anna Nicole Smith needs another implant, have the audacity to install a rotating, 10-by-3-foot advertising board on the fabled bricks behind home plate.

I realize Cubdom is engrossed in the National League wild-card race, spending a painful Tuesday night watching a 7-6 loss to the (sigh here) Expos, while, once again, thumbing through a dog-eared medical glossary. I realize the new injury hiccup involves Matt Clement, who introduced a stiff right trapezius muscle to the Clark Street infirmary a day after Sammy Sosa introduced hip bursitis. I realize reliever Mike Remlinger -- a charter member of the Clubhouse Whiners Society -- walked in two runs in the seventh inning and was booed heartily. I realize you are stone-cold freaked about the Astros, Marlins and Barry Bonds, not to mention someone named Terrmel Sledge, who sounds like something falling from the upper-deck underbelly.

''We take two steps forward and one step backward,'' Dusty Baker groaned. ''That was a tough one.''

But we are used to the quirky machinations of a maddening year. What will linger is the integrity of an American sports shrine and an attempt by the Cubs to cheapen the experience by lining their already-stuffed pockets. Here I thought Tribune Co. would be announcing how it will fix the Crumbling Confines, why paying customers can be assured they won't be conked by flying chunks of concrete. Now that Mayor Daley's buildings inspector has declared that the U.S.S. Wrigley's nautical netting is only a temporary solution, the Tribsters have a decision to make soon. Will they launch an extensive, expensive rehab of the deck and ramps? Or will they simply rip down the entire structure and construct a new one -- leaving intact, one would hope, the bleachers, outfield wall and old-time scoreboard?

Apparently, fan safety is of secondary importance. The bigger priority is a gaudy, ugly, screaming ad board -- ''ROUND THE BASES EVERY NIGHT WITH VIAGRA!'' or, more to the point, ''WAKE UP WITH SPIKE O'DELL, MORNINGS, WGN-AM RADIO'' -- that could bring in $5 million a year. I wouldn't have a problem with this money-making scheme if the Cubs weren't scalping their own tickets, gouging rooftop owners for 17 percent of their profits, charging up to $250 a ticket for the new premium seats behind home plate and packing the place with such regularity that they'll draw more than 3 million fans for the first time. But team executives try to slip this knuckleball by you anyway, knowing you have little interest right now in debating what is sacred.

That is precisely the point that shouldn't be lost here. The Cubs can't sell Wrigley's timeless charm in one breath, then tatter one of its most distinctive, old-fashioned elements with a 2004 billboard. What's next, slapping ''GAP'' on the outfield ivy? We've seen glimpses of an ad board on the bricks during Fox network telecasts, and it looks absolutely hideous.

As everyone knows, the Chicago National League Baseball Club is a cash cow like few others in the sport. Small-market teams that don't draw well or have lucrative broadcasting rights deals -- have no choice but to place billboards in every nook and cranny of their stadiums. The Cubs want to do it because, well, they can. What are you going to do, boycott Wrigley? Then someone else will take your tickets and go to the games, as the Tribsters well know. The very phenomenon that was created by the fans is allowing the franchise to do business as it pleases. Oh, the Cubs will claim this is about maximizing revenues so they can spend more money on player payrolls. In truth, this is about maintaining the same fat profit margin while spending $95 million --- which remains, by the way, $30 million less than their partners in championship woe, the Boston Red Sox.

Jim Hendry is a baseball lifer who understands Wrigley's unique appeal. He also is a general manager who knows his job would be easier with an extra $5 million in the budget. ''I'm sure nothing is going to detract from the great ballpark that it is,'' he said Tuesday. ''Back in the days when the lights were installed, people didn't want that. Or since then, the skyboxes and the signage behind the dugout. A lot of things have changed in our game, and let's be honest: We want to compete. Every ballclub in our division has a new stadium, and we have enough trouble adding seats to our park with our own dollars.

''Sure, I'd like to have Wrigley Field as it was 20 years ago. But that would be counterproductive to what I'd like to do. And that's to continue to add good players to the organization."

It shouldn't be an either/or issue. The Cubs make enough money to have a $100 million payroll while keeping the bricks unimpeded. But when you give them a crumb, they want a bakery. They wanted lights ... and got them. Then they wanted more night games ... and got them. Then they wanted tacky Sears ads behind the dugout ... and got them. Then they wanted electric scoreboards in the upper deck ... and got them. Then they wanted neon-like L.E.D. signage under the scoreboard and along the foul-line facades ... and got them. Now they want an ad board on the bricks.

But this time, thank goodness, there's an obstacle. Because Wrigley has landmark status, the city's Landmarks Commission must grant permission for the project. In other words, the mayor can continue his venomous battle with the Tribsters and say ''hell, no'' to their rude venture.

Go ahead and writhe through the nightly twists of late-season drama. It's great psychotic fun, I know. But understand this, too, about the ramifications of messing with history: All in all, it's not just another brick in the wall.

Jay Mariotti hosts a sports talk show weekdays on WMVP-AM (1000) from 9-11 a.m. and appears on ESPN's ''Around the Horn'' at 4 p.m. Send e-mail to inbox@suntimes.com with name, hometown and daytime phone number (letters run Sunday).