There's a way to mend fences over screens

Saturday, April 6, 2002

Phil Arvia

Think of it this way, Cubs fans:

No way Sammy Sosa's low-lining "home run," giving the Cubs a brief 1-0 lead in their Home Opening, 2-1 loss Friday at Wrigley Field, makes even the edge of the right-field basket unless the wind screens are there knocking down the breeze off the lake.

So, there you have it. Wind screens good, rooftop owners bad.

Except, it's not that simple. No simpler, in fact, than sorting out Sosa's homer, which to my eye - through four replays - appeared to hit the top of the basket in right and bounce back to the playing field.

Of course, Cubs staffers said that didn't matter, as the white line marking the top of the basket also marked a home run. At least, they said so until it was pointed out that the Wrigley ground rules state that a ball is in play if it "hits top or face of screen in front of bleacher wall and bounces back on playing field."

Still doesn't matter, they said, because the way they saw it, the ball hit the wall behind the basket and was homer, regardless.

Whatever. All I know is, I hit the wall Friday on this whole Wrigley expansion vs. rooftop owners and the Lakeview community vs. wanton and malicious postgame peeing.

To hear Cubs honcho Mark McGuire tell it, the Cubs are striking back against rooftop guys who are no better than cable TV pirates. To hear the rooftop guys tell it, the Cubs management is just ticked because they could have bought every building along Waveland and Sheffield avenues for a total of $1 million shortly after they bought the club in 1981 and didn't think it was worth it. To hear the neighborhood groups tell it, a mandate was delivered by last month's referendum, which essentially asked area residents, "Are you in favor of the Cubs being nice to you?"

None of it comes down to wind screens, which the Cubs put up to obscure rooftop views this week in the corporate equivalent of holding one's face until turning Cubbie blue. It comes down to smoke screens, which all involved parties are contributing to in an effort to obscure their real goals.

Which, basically, come down to these:

The neighborhood groups say they just want rogue Cub fans to stop whizzing on their rose bushes and for the Cubs to cover the cost of enforcing a no (open) fly zone. What they probably would settle for is a reduction in the number of night games the Cubs are seeking to add so they don't have to get stuck in traffic on the way home from work too often and they have all the street parking they need in front of the trendiest local brassieres.

They ought to be happy for whatever the Cubs give them, since they moved into WRIGLEYville, after all, and ought to be able to handle the neighborhood's drawbacks while enjoying its hip cache.

The rooftop owners say it's not about them, but about the neighborhood - never mind the $100-plus a head they were pulling in from bus riding swells Friday for selling someone else's product. You know they'd settle for the Cubs calling off the dogs and leaving most of their precious sight lines intact.

The Cubs? They say they want a little more money - but if you look at the numbers, I'm beginning to wonder if what they really want is an excuse to leave Wrigley for a stadium that would produce a lot more money.

But, taking everyone at their word, I've got a compromise in mind - and so does Chicagoan John Goecke, who paid $113 per person (city tax included) to get 22 clients of his North Side graphics business onto a Waveland rooftop Friday.

"I think the Cubs should get a cut of the rooftop revenues," Goecke said. "Do I find it offensive that they put up the wind screens a couple of days before the opener without giving any notice? Absolutely.

"But, I think (rooftop owners) should pay whatever the Cubs want to keep the rooftops in business."

Well, let's not go with a blank check. But, let's do crunch some ballpark figures.

Michael Kaufman, one of 11 individuals or groups owning the 13 buildings with rooftop Wrigley businesses, said those buildings have an average capacity of about 60 fans per game. He also said the per-person price checks in at between $60 and $100, depending on the time of year.

(Maybe McGuire would dispute those numbers. But, if Congress is expected to believe Bud Selig ...)

Let's call the average roof ticket $80. Assuming the buildings do Kaufman's average for all 81 home games - a bit of a stretch, but then, $80 might be on the low side - that produces revenues of $5.1 million.

If the Cubs were to sell out each of the 1,980 seats they say are contained in the current renovation plan at this year's bleacher price of $24 per ticket, they'd gross $3.8 million - which you could probably double with concessions thrown in.

Clearly, the rooftops can't produce enough revenue to match that. But if they cut the Cubs in for, say, one third of the $5.1 million - which comes to $1.7 million - the Cubs only have to expand by about 1,500 seats to reach the revenues their current plan would generate.

The smaller expansion would certainly have less impact on the sight lines, require fewer support beams on Waveland and Sheffield avenues' precious sidewalks and contribute less to congestion in the area.

Of course, the rooftop guys say they've already tried to offer the Cubs a "substantial" cut to protect their interests. McGuire said the team has gotten no concrete number.

Either way, ask yourself this:

What does the extra $7 million or so mean to the Cubs?

A middling starting pitcher, maybe. Vaulting from 11th to seventh in payrolls if they apply all that revenue to player salaries.

Hardly seems worth the trouble. It's certainly not worth ruining the Wrigley aesthetic.

But then, the rooftop owners ought to do right by the Cubs.

Cut them in.

Then let's cut the screens down.

Phil Arvia can be reached at parvia@dailysouthtown.com or (708) 633-5949.