The Differing Roles of Minor League Ballparks

I’m a skeptic on the question of how much economic activity a new sports venue creates.  I’m dubious about those who argue that publicly-funded venues are essential catalysts for the economic health of cities.  But at the same time, I also doubt those who argue that there is no economic development value in new sports venues and that new parks serve only to enrich the owners.

(Acknowledgment: Part of my skepticism on the latter point is the four years I spent as the part-owner of a minor league baseball club.  Our goal was to break even so we could continue providing entertainment to the community, a goal that we never achieved.  We even explored making ourselves into a non-profit, but learned that federal law didn’t allow it.

I’ll acknowledge that major league sports are very different that minor league baseball, but I suspect that virtually every owner is motivated at least a bit by doing something good for the community, with many willing to accept a lesser return in exchange.  That’s probably the reason that most clubs are owned by individuals, not corporations. )

Having often pondered the question of the economic impact of ballparks, I’ll argue that ballparks can generally be put into three categories:

Economic Catalyst: A park in a walkable part of the city that is ripe for renewed development, with the new park providing the impetus.  In the Bay Area, AT&T Park was an economic catalyst.

Walkable Amenity:  A park in a walkable part of the city that is already economically vital, with the park providing an amenity for the people already visiting there.  If the proposed Warrior’s arena in Mission Bay proceeds, I’d consider it a walkable amenity.

Drivable Amenity: A park that may meet the need of the sports team, but is surrounded by parking so it won’t trigger new growth and will be difficult to reach except by car.  I’ll offer both Levi’s Stadium in Santa Clara and O.Co Stadium in Oakland as examples.

It was with those categories in mind that I turned a critical eye toward the minor league ballparks of the south during a recent trip.

To be clear, this analysis isn’t scholarly and likely has errors of fact.  With a pair of friends, the mission of our twelve-day outing was good conversation, fine local beers, and attentive watching of minor league baseball.  Our plans didn’t include spending part of our days at the local public libraries, investigating the reasons given before the ballparks were built.

But the urbanist part of my brain is never turned off and I could still make reasonable, and hopefully mostly correct, observations, even while watching a ballgame and enjoying a beer.

Birmingham: We began our trip in Birmingham, where Regions Field was the best example of an economic catalyst that we saw.  Located in a fading industrial district and built to mimic the steel mills that once defined Birmingham, Regions Field seems to be triggering growth, with new construction visible over the centerfield wall (photo above).

It was even more exciting to have live music being played and beverages being served in a derelict industrial site across from the park when the game ended.  The neighborhood felt on an upswing, with the ballpark a key component.

Montgomery: Riverwalk Stadium in Montgomery fell more into the walkable amenity category.  A well-configured park that occupies a former railyard and uses a historical rail side hotel as office space, Riverwalk is a fine facility.  But it adjoins a largely developed downtown, so won’t catalyze much future development.  I loved the park, but it’s not a driver of new growth.

Pensacola: This might have been our favorite ballpark of the trip.  Situated on the Gulf Coast waterfront, the setting is lovely, the park has architectural interest, and the ballgame experience was great.  But the park is adjoined by developed parcels and is set back from the adjoining street behind a large parking lot, so Pensacola managed to build to a drivable amenity only blocks from downtown.

Mobile: Henry Aaron Stadium might have been worst park we saw the entire trip.  An oddly configured and aging facility in a fully developed business park next to a freeway, its only function is as a mediocre drivable amenity.  We suggested that Hammerin’ Hank should sue to have his name removed, even if his childhood home is now incongruously tucked outside the first base stands.

Biloxi: This ballpark puzzled us.  The downtown seems to have gone all in on gambling as an economic driver.  But then one of the key downtown parcels was devoted to a family-oriented function.  It’s a nicely configured park, open only weeks when we visited, but most folks arrive by car.  Heck, there wasn’t even a good pedestrian route to the casino directly across the street.  It’s absolutely a drivable amenity in the heart of downtown.

To show the depth of the problem, we went looking for post-game nibbles.  The only walkable option was the casino which offered either the buffet or a snack bar with all its seats filled.  We ended up driving to a Waffle House.

New Orleans: The history of the minor league New Orleans Pelicans is long and storied.  But the ballclub is now known as the Zephyr and is housed miles from the French Quarter in an unexceptional ballpark in an adjoining town.  With a giant parking lot and the principle view from the first base stands being a Harley-Davidson dealership on the adjoining stroad, Zephyr Field is the quintessential drivable amenity.

Jackson, Mississippi: With a downtown in desperate need of a focal point, the Jackson ballpark in located in the parking lot of a giant shopping mall in the neighboring suburb which is convenient only to cars.  Drivable amenity. 

Memphis: AutoZone Park is a puzzle.  It’s a well-designed park with an old-time baseball feel on a key corner only three blocks away from Beal Street, the center of Memphis music scene.  In any other town, development would be booming, but not in Memphis.

The best indicator of a lackluster neighborhood economy is that we were able to find cut-rate rooms in a mediocre hotel near the rightfield bleachers and within walking distance of Beal Street.  We were happy with the convenience and the price, but in any other town the motel would have been razed and a chain hotel with twice the room rate would have been built.

One of my companions suggested that the white flight from downtown Memphis was so profound that downtown regeneration is particularly slow.  The hypothesis is reasonable.

AutoZone Park, which could also use a different naming sponsor, is an economic catalyst that has thus far fizzled.

Nashville: First Tennessee Park is another newly opened facility.  Located midday between downtown and Germantown neighborhood which intrigued me during an earlier trip, the ballpark will likely be an economic catalyst.  But it’s too early to judge the success.

Chattanooga: AT&T Field has a marvelous setting on a rocky outcrop adjoining downtown Chattanooga, a place that I loved and will cover in a later post.  But the ballpark is an aging facility that isn’t having much of an impact on the vibrant downtown.  It’s a walkable amenity but one that I hope is someday soon rebuilt on the same site because I won’t want it to go anywhere else.

The next time you come across a facile argument about the value, or absence of value, in a proposed sports venue, remember that not all sports venues are created equal and dig more deeply.

Next time, I’ll return to a recent topic of city-focused tourism.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

Walkable Urban Hotels and Sonoma's Measure B

The joint meeting of City Repair Petaluma and Petaluma Urban Chat is finally behind us.  It was an enthusiastic and productive meeting.  I’ll offer a summary in my next post.

For now, I’ll return to the subject I’d broached before City Repair began my primary focus, tourism versus urbanism.  To recap, I expressed the concern that well-functioning and attractive urban places become a magnet to tourists.  The possible result is that a wash of tourist feet and dollars undermines what initially made the places well-functioning and attractive.  (It would be a variant of Yogi Berra’s purported line about a popular restaurant, “Nobody goes there anymore.  It’s too crowded.”)

In that opinion, I shared the concerns of the backers of Ballot Measure B in the City of Sonoma.  However, I didn’t agree with the wording of Measure B, finding that it was too blunt an instrument, an opinion to which I clung despite determined attempts by Measure B backers to sway my thinking.

But the dialogue caused me to think about fine hotels I’ve seen in walkable urban settings, particularly settings that have a look and feel similar to the Sonoma Plaza.  (I’ve stayed at some fine value hotels in New York City, but that’s a different topic.)

Two hotels came to mind, one in the Mid-South and the other in the Upper Sacramento Valley.

I haven’t yet stayed there, but as soon as I realized what the developers had done, I fell in love with the River Inn of Harbor Town, in Memphis, Tennessee.   Harbor Town is an urbanist community which I reviewed early in the history of this blog, here and here.  Although nominally located in the city of Memphis, Harbor Town is on an island in the Mississippi River, across from downtown Memphis, so functions as its own community.

The photo above shows what appears to be a small hotel office with a very few hotel rooms upstairs.  But the hotel is more expansive than that.  Hotel rooms are located above several storefronts along the main retail street of Harbor Town.

The diffuse location is probably a management challenge.  During my brief visit, I watched a crew wheel a cleaning cart down a sidewalk.  But the configuration doesn’t interfere with the neighborhood retail core either architecturally or functionally.  It’s a brilliant concept that I’ve love to see elsewhere.

I didn’t note a parking location for the River Inn, but suspect that parking is provided by street parking and use of the retail center parking lot a short distance away.

The Hotel Diamond in Chico, California takes a different, but still effective, approach.  A complete reconstruction of a historic hotel that had a brief period of prominence early in the 20th century, the Hotel Diamond occupies a narrow lot, but incorporates a fair number of rooms into a four-plus story building on a deep lot.  Parking is provided in a municipal garage on the other side of a pedestrian alley.

Although the Hotel Diamond is a relatively massive building for downtown Chico, it’s location a half-block from the downtown couplet mostly hides that bulk.  From the city plaza only a few hundred feet away, the only visual evidence of the hotel is the quirky widow’s walk atop the structure.

Although every community is different, it’s worth looking at the River Inn and Hotel Diamond versus Sonoma’s Measure B.  The River Inn has 28 rooms and the Hotel Diamond has about 40 rooms, so both would be prohibited under Measure B.

Neither Harbor Town nor Chico has the tourist load of Sonoma.  The River Inn is the only lodging in Harbor Town, so most folks on the sidewalks live in the community.  There a couple of budget lodging options in downtown Chico, but most of downtown pedestrians are either Chico State students or local residents.  So neither the River Inn nor Hotel Diamond is facilitating a tourist overload.

On the other hand, from my casual observation, the tourists in Sonoma do seem to be pushing the  locals away from the plaza.  I was in Sonoma for brunch last Sunday.  Obviously, I didn’t wander the restaurant checking on zipcodes, but my sense was that the establishment was largely filled with folks who didn’t call Sonoma home.  And the same was true of the sidewalks.

A couple of example hotels and an unscientific assessment of a Sunday afternoon outing don’t prove anything.  But neither do they shake my initial concerns about Sonoma.  There is a legitimate worry about the local flavor being lost among the tourists.  But a cap on the rooms in individual hotels is the wrong tool.

Given the forces that work against urbanism, it is crucial to devise urban preservation tools that are carefully crafted to achieve the desired effect.  Whether through citizen backlash or court challenges, poorly crafted urbanist tools may create more problems than they solve.  Measure B still feels like trying to repair a fine watch with a ballpeen hammer.

In other North Bay hotel news, the Kessler Collection has withdrawn their proposal for a new Healdsburg hotel.  They report that they intend to rework the site plan before resubmittal.  From the rendering that was offered, I hope they can find a way to make the look less formal, to make it more compatible with the small town feel that Healdsburg hopes to retain.  Perhaps the River Inn or Hotel Diamond can offer useful hints.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)