A point guard named Burger King

We’ve become accustomed to the naming rights sell-off game.

So now Paul Allen is auctioning off the naming rights to The Rose Garden.

Yawnnnnnn.

Allen, already a billionaire many times over, is hoping to reap millions by putting another corporate name in our faces.

Why are naming rights so valuable in marketing?

• We, the public, are forced to mouth the words “Wells Fargo Arena” (or Frito Lay, or Nike, or Adidas) every time we refer to the venue.

• The name gets mentioned repeatedly in the press. Every sports story, every sports broadcast, carries at least one mention.

• The “Rose Quarter” district, much of it belonging to the public, becomes the “Big Corporate Name” district.

• Freeway exit signs, again, owned by the public, become virtual billboards that we the people will receive zero compensation for.

We’ve seen the sell-outs take place around the country in less proud cities than ours.

But it’s here in Portland too. It started in the public sector where the proudly named Civic Stadium became a name-ad for Portland General Electric, PGE Park.

Now the Portland parks bureau is hiring a full-time sponsorship salesperson. Nike logos are on park basketball courts. Pepsi logos are on community center scoreboards. Piece by piece, the cash-starved public commons is being commercialized and privatized — and the public has grown increasingly accepting.

Of course several of us skeptics have suggested jokingly that Portland make the big re-naming leap and sell off “Portland.” Change the maps and road signs and call the place “Starbucks” or “Wal-Mart” or “Pepsi-Town,” all in exchange for a few million each year. Twenty years from now, we may all be Starbuckians or Pepsians.

But back to Allen and his Trail Blazers, who, according to The Oregonian, lost $25 million last year (the front office disputes the number but not the red ink).

Here’s a way to get in the black, Paul. Why not sell off the names of the players? Why does Brandon Roy have to be “Brandon Roy” or LaMarcus Aldridge “LaMarcus Aldridge” when they could be “Wells Fargo” and “Burger King”?

Think of the great product names that you could slap on a star point guard for a cool million or two. “Key Bank,” “Frito Lay,” “Kettle Chips,” and “Fred Meyer,” “Chevrolet Malibu” are just a few that come to mind.

Game commentary would be peppered with brand mentions: “Fargo passes into Frito who dribbles over the Wild Oats mid-court line. Lay to Burger. He fakes. A high lob into Kettle. He swings right with a hook over Chevrolet (previously known as Kobe Bryant). It’s up and in! Rip Diet Coke!”

Come’ on, Paul, you haven’t even turned the ignition on in your money machine.

Editorial blind spots

Editorial writing is, by definition, critical, but that doesn’t mean it is beyond criticism.

I’ve written a few editorials in my time. Among the craft's many challenges are word limits and establishing focus.

But focus and brevity shouldn’t result in tunnel vision.

Two examples:

Yesterday’s issue of The Portland Tribune carries an editorial titled “City needs new naming process.” The editorial board worried over whether Interstate Avenue should be renamed for César Chavez, as some in the Hispanic community have argued.

Why not name some parks after Chavez? the editorial board proposed.

The editorial concluded with these words: “Any naming — or renaming — of public places in Portland should help to better define and build a sense of community, while also serving to hone the contributions of worthy individuals. The city of Portland should have a renaming process that serves these goals better than it does today.”

The big blind spot in the editorial is the city’s selling of naming rights. How can an editorial address the “naming” issue without at least considering the decision to rename Civic Stadium “PGE Park.” And what about the other naming rights the city’s parks bureau is geared up to sell?

Hello?

Second example:

In today’s Oregonian, an editorial urges rapid implementation of the State’s stiffer physical education requirements in the schools. The goal is to address “our childhood obesity epidemic.” Twenty-five percent of Oregon’s eighth graders are “overweight or at risk of becoming overweight, and that rate is on the rise,” the editorial notes.

Then the editorial goes on to say that the new PE law “is only the first step.” And what is the next step? More money for PE and pressuring school boards to implement the program.

End of discussion.

What the editorial writers fail to address is the four to five hours each day that the average child spends in front of screens. During those hours, children expend zero calories and are enticed to eat calorie-laden junk food — a huge contributor to childhood obesity and early on-set diabetes.

It’s fine to bulk up PE in the schools, but the average public school graduate will have spent more time in front of television than in the classroom — including the PE classroom.

Fighting childhood obesity begins at home, but you’d never know it reading the editorial.

Swapping names on West Burnside

Last Friday, as I was walking to a Timbers soccer game at PGE Park (OPKA — “once proudly known as” — Civic Stadium), I happened on a surprising, confounding and, finally, fortuitous appellation.

But first, a little history.

Six years ago, City Hall dumped the name “Civic Stadium” and sold the naming rights to the publicly-owned stadium to PGE (Portland General Electric, then owned by Enron — need we say more?). Hence PGE Park. The naming rights sale was part of a back-room renovation deal cut by the Katz administration. The peddling of similar civic names persists here with the Portland parks bureau recently gaining city council approval to sell off the names of parks facilities to corporate high bidders. I’ve written about this abomination before.

Okay, back to my discovery.

It came in the form of the 16-story condominium tower going up directly across West Burnside from the stadium. It’s name, by some stroke of genius, is “The Civic.”

So here we have a civic facility, PGE Park, now named after a monopoly private utility, directly across the street from a private, high-end condominium that has assumed the proud civic name once attached to the civic facility.

(A whimsical possibility is that the condominium’s developers have really named the building after a type of Honda automobile and are quietly taking naming-rights royalties from Honda. Stranger things have happened….)

Anyway, name-wise, things are sorely out of whack on West Burnside.

So here’s a suggestion. Why not do a name swap? The condominium developers could sell their building’s naming rights to PGE in exchange for returning the name “civic” to the city and the stadium. PGE Park is a not half-bad name for a condominium. After all, what’s fair for a proud civic stadium should be equally fair for a tony condominium.

So how will the city keep getting the PGE Park naming-rights money it has come to rely on?

Consider this: Because the condominium is approximately four times the height of Civic Stadium, the “PGE Park” sign atop the new building would be much more visible — and valuable. No doubt city officials have some control over regulating such elevated signs. Therefore they likely have the regulatory leverage to negotiate a deal to ensure that the stadium continues to receive sign money, thanks to the “added value” of the new, far more prominent placement.

Once the name swap is complete, the citizenry will no longer have to mouth a corporate plug in referring to the publicly-owned stadium where Portland’s teams play. No more “They’re playing at PGE Park” or “Do you have directions to PGE Park?” or “I’ll meet you at PGE Park” or "After paying my PGE bill I won't have enough money left to see the game at PGE Park."

Returning to “Civic Stadium” will be something for Portlanders to cheer about.