But what’s entertaining in a movie or theme park may not suffice for sports fans. Disney, one of the ultimate bottom-line companies, seems unprepared for a business in which the bottom line is winning. And while you can ordain championships in a movie script, in real life they come with a huge price tag. Clever marketing, pretty uniforms and showbiz glitz can’t mask a lack of talent. Moreover, what is routine in today’s pro-sports game-salary disputes, firings, drug problems-has produced a succession of public-relations debacles for image-conscious Disney. “There were bound to be some bumps in the road,” Robertson says.
So far the Mighty Ducks’ season looks like an iceberg on the rink. Disney had already stunned fans by firing popular coach Ron Wilson without explanation–“we do not disclose personnel matters”-two weeks after he led the team to its first playoff appearance. Wilson griped publicly about both his talent shortage and his frugal bosses. Even bigger gripes have come from the Ducks’ best player, Paul Kariya. The Hollywood-handsome 23-year-old would seem a perfect Disney character for the synergistic 1990s. But Kariya has sat out for 10 weeks, bitter over Disney’s “take it or leave it” negotiation tack. Though last week he finally signed a $14 million, two-year deal, the Ducks, absent their star winger, have reverted to their losing ways.
Disney can be forgiven a case of sports sticker shock, if not its petulant response to the stalemate. At the Ducks’ season opener, it showed highlights of the ‘96 season with all footage of Kariya excised-no mean feat considering that Kariya was runner-up for MVP of the entire league. Kariya’s jersey was also absent from the team gift shop; when fans complained, Disney called it an ordering snafu.
In pro sports, arrogance goes hand in hand with ownership. Still, it’s hard to imagine how anyone could be high-handed enough to unite baseball’s feuding owners and players. But Disney was up to it after the Angels’ Tony Phillips was arrested in a crack-cocaine sting. The company, seeing a perfect opportunity to play the family-values card, suspended Phillips-in clear violation of baseball policy on first-time offenders. Both the owners’ group and the players’ union blasted Disney. Phillips was reinstated, but the team never recovered from the distraction.
Much of Disney’s approach appears to revolve around distractions. At baseball games, they have ranged from a Dixieland band to cheerleaders dancing on the dugout. And at The Pond, Ducks fans are treated to (or endure) explosions, animation, duck calls and a mascot, Wild Wing, sort of a Gen-X version of Donald Duck, who descends from the roof. “They do everything they can to make you for- get you’re at a hockey game,” says Rob Bernard, a distressed fan. Attendance is slumping, and a small group of season- ticket holders has organized protests against management.
The team may be ice cold, but Mighty Ducks teal blue is red hot. Last year, Ducks merchandise sales-thanks to the movies * ranked behind only those of the Chicago Bulls and Dallas Cowboys. Disney hopes the new Angels logo and periwinkle-striped uniforms will someday reap a similar bonanza. Rick Burton, a University of Oregon marketing expert who has studied Disney, says the company doesn’t seem to understand that marketing successes can’t be sustained without winning teams.
Disney says it is being held to a higher standard than other owners and that its teams are progressing. But Kariya’s absence has dug the Ducks a mighty hole. And next season’s $108 million face-lift of the Angels’ stadium has pushed the top ticket from $14 to $34.50. “They’ll be getting an all-new stadium, waiter-waitress service, parking privileges and other amenities,” says Robertson. Winning may be the only amenity Disney won’t promise.
