Remember that scene in “The Godfather” where Don Corleone (Marlon Brando) explained to other mobsters the family policy of penalizing clients who hadn’t measured up to certain standards of fealty? The aging don chucked his chin and rasped: “Nothing personal … strictly business.”
That’s the way a lot of longtime Kansas University basketball ticket-holders figure things are going in KU’s effort to boost its finances. As far as I can tell, current loyalists with limited resources aren’t going to be thrown out of Allen Fieldhouse. It’s just that they are in grave danger of being relocated to less-desirable seats unless they pony up sizable contributions in addition to about $1,200 for a pair of season ducats.
Sounds more and more as if it’ll take $5,000 to secure the right to buy tickets for a specified seat. For two people, that amounts to $11,200 or thereabouts. For some that might be no problem; for others it’s far beyond the realm of possibility.
The way KU people explain it, such a policy is in effect at many schools, a kind of “everybody’s doing it” approach. But how about Kansas State, or Baylor, where sellouts are often directly related to a Kansas visit? Are casual K-State fans likely to dig down for nifty deposits before they can buy tickets?
Is the “everybody” doing it limited to schools where big crowds are the rule rather than the exception? As I understand it, even schools like Oklahoma and Missouri, which have good court success, aren’t selling out all the time. Do they also impose pre-emptive lugs?
How about the dedicated Jayhawk followers who have been backing the program for 20, 30 or even 40 years even when the pickings were lean? Man, I feel sorry for somebody in a prime seating area who suddenly winds up where the view is not as good and access is a lot tougher.
I’m inclined to want the Jayhawks to stick with the old-timers until they relinquish their dandy ducats either through death, moving or something else. Then it’s OK to tell the new purchasers what they have to kick in to be among the elite.
Let’s hope there’s a bare minimum of cases where longstanding supporters, some from as far back as Hoch Auditorium days (pre-1955), are told politely but decisively, “Nothing personal … strictly business,” as they get shifted.
KU with all its problems needs all the good will it can generate right now. People who feel they get screwed on basketball tickets aren’t likely to leap to buy football tickies, which is a horrible black hole. Friends and families could react likewise.
Just as we approach another football season unsure of how well the Jayhawks might do, what happens if basketball tails off a bit and loses some of the glamor that the Larry Brown and Roy Williams eras generated?
The perfect answer is “just win, baby.” Teams with glossy records make the turnstiles click and set the stage for deposits before tickets. But football has to prove it can do that, and basketball must show it will keep it up.
As for people running up each other’s backs to fill Allen Fieldhouse, there are some important items to think about as far as old-line, loyal boosters are concerned.
In the two seasons Wilt Chamberlain was here (1957 and 1958), there were at least eight occasions a capacity crowd was lacking.
After Chamberlain’s 52-point, 31-rebound debut against Northwestern Dec. 3, 1956, only 11,000 turned out for a Dec. 8 victory over Marquette. KU was 5-0 when Wisconsin visited Dec. 22, 1956. Attendance: 12,000.
Worst turnout during the Wilt Era was a 52-50 loss to Oklahoma State when Wilt was sidelined because of a groin problem. Attendance: 8,500.
But the perfect example of what can happen when enthusiasm wanes, either for a coach, player or team, occurred Jan. 31, 1959, Bill Bridges’ sophomore year.
Kansas and Colorado were lined up here for the first time, ever, that a college game was televised nationally Saturday afternoon. KU and Colorado both had 3-1 Big Seven records, playing for the league lead. Folks here went gaga over the prospects of filling Allen Fieldhouse to look good on national TV. KU earlier had lost seven in a row, but excitement seemed to be rebuilding.
To jam the hall, athletic director Dutch Lonborg put general admission seats on sale for $2 (this is not a typo), then declared anyone who bought one ticket would get a second one free.
Hype upon hype was tried, but only 7,000 turned out to see Colorado post a 64-62 triumph and leave here in first place. Further, despite the closeness of the game, the network cut it off early to meet a commitment for a horse race.
There were some lean crowds during parts of the eight-year Dick Harp coaching era, same for the 19-year Ted Owens stint. Yet many, many folks I know steadfastly stuck with their season ticket purchases, win or lose. It’s those people KU has to consider and patronize before being getting totally committed to the Don Corleone “strictly business” credo.
Finances and what is happening? Analyst Beano Cook offered this classic: “The best thing that ever happened to sports was television. The worst thing that ever happened to sports was television money.”
The more the athletic Cookie Monster has been gorged, the more he has roared for more. A lot of old-fashioned-type fans here and everywhere else are among the victims; it could well get a lot worse.
