Columns
by Randy Horick
Primitive peoples—a category that includes all of us fans of professional sports—tend to look for omens in the natural world. So maybe it was appropriate that Monday in Nashville arrived with storm clouds so ominous and black that 9 a.m. looked like the gloaming of predawn. As if we needed any confirmation that the darkest week in the city's brief big-league sports history had arrived, the weather provided it.
First came the news over the weekend that, despite last-ditch attempts to perform CPR, the National Hockey League season, like General Franco, was still dead. Worse, this death caused few tears and barely a sniffle in the sports world.
Then came confirmation that the Tennessee Titans find themselves between the Scylla of painful roster cuts and the Charybdis of more 5-11 seasons. Wisely, management opted to prune back practically to the ground. But this could be one ugly-ass bush for a while.
The developments in both of our big-league sports will test whether Nashvillians are prepared to be more than fair-weather fans.
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All in all, we've enjoyed a sports climate that's a lot closer to Fort Lauderdale than to Fargo. Not many new NFL cities are blessed with a Super Bowl during just their second season. And while it took longer for the Predators to reach the playoffs, the organization had built what appeared to be a solid foundation for many happy returns to the post-season. In fact, some analysts even predicted that the Preds would pass aging Detroit and win their division this season.
This must be what the Montreal Expos felt like a decade ago. The one time they were leading their division as they entered the home stretch, a work stoppage yanked away their chances. I'm not sure how well I like the Preds' chances from this point forward.
The cancellation of the season considerably strengthens the position of NHL owners and management, who have drawn a line in the sand over the imposition of a salary cap. The fight now is less about the amount of the wage ceiling than its very existence. Those close to the negotiations think the league and the players' union ultimately will find common ground with a cap of around $45 million.
Theoretically, that should be good news for the Predators. A cap would help them compete more equally with free spenders like the Red Wings and Avalanche. And (unlike their local NFL counterparts) the Preds would have plenty of room under the cap to add new players who could make an impact.
But the theory must also be weighed against two sobering realities. First, it has become glaringly apparent that life in America has blissfully continued without hockey this winter. In fact, except for a knot of loyal cadres in the nontraditional markets for hockey, the NHL has seemed like a faint and distant memory. It has barely even been missed. That does not bode well for the survival of the franchises in the league's newest colonies, like Nashville, Columbus and Atlanta. Attendance here already had been among the lowest in the NHL before the Preds made the playoffs. With each passing month without hockey, the league may be moving closer toward the salary cap it demands but distancing itself from the fans it needs.
Second—as several Nashville players have pointed out—the salary cap math doesn't necessarily add up to a bonus for the Predators. According to owner Craig Leipold, the franchise already was losing money before the lockout—and that was with a payroll considerably below $45 million. If the team wasn't profitable even with the league's lowest payroll, then it doesn't need a salary cap. It needs to attract more fans with the low-cost players on hand—which is not quite as simple as ordering up a pizza from Papa John's.
When the players' union began ominously floating the heretical suggestion that the NHL should shrink by as many as six teams, I thought it was mostly bluff and bluster. Now I'm wondering if they weren't being prophetic. The cancellation of the season, which may force the salary cap that improves the league's overall health, may become the very thing that prevents the long-term success of NHL franchises in transplant markets like Nashville. I hope I'm wrong. But I'm starting to worry that I might be right.
By comparison, there are plenty of silver linings to the Titans' dark clouds. But it may be a while before it gets light again. Not since the limbless knight of Monty Python and the Holy Grail have we seen so many cuts to a body that planned to keep fighting.
Among this week's dearly departed are wide receiver Derrick Mason, defensive lineman Kevin Carter and cornerback Samari Rolle—all Pro Bowlers—along with offensive lineman Fred Miller, kicker Joe Nedney and running back Robert Holcombe. For the most part, these are not aging players on the downhill side of great careers. These guys are in their prime. Their departures are going to leave a mark.
In the long run, however, making the agonizing cuts now is the right move. The salary-capped NFL is a more relentless redistributor of wealth than even the most liberal Democrat in Washington could aspire to be.
In this league, the price for having a plethora of high-dollar talent eventually is either their exit or prolonged mediocrity for the team. Keep a few old stars around a couple of years too long or pay them too handsomely, and you can't afford enough talent to complement them. Let them go during their peak years, and you'll watch them play in Super Bowls for other teams.
Either way, you'll have to rebuild sooner or later. The Titans' brass all knew this day would come. They were right to defer the day until after 2004. Had it not been for an incredible avalanche of injuries, this team had the talent to make a deep playoff run.
Now, however, with $27 million in salaries to unload just to reach the NFL's maximum allowable salary figure, the Titans rightly "blew up" the team to make the best of a hinky situation. It was the only way to promote new growth.
Three years after blowing up their own teams, the Jacksonville Jaguars and Buffalo Bills are rising powers. After their Super Bowl season, the Baltimore Ravens jettisoned 10 big-time players and returned to the playoffs in just two years. Making such a resurrection requires the ability to identity and develop talent, and the Titans have that in rare abundance.
With another strong draft this year to build upon last spring's excellent harvest, the Titans might beat the odds and be serious contenders again in only a couple of years. Or, maybe we'll look back five years from now upon 1999-2003 as the Titans' halcyon days, yet to be seen again.
Either way, this week marked an important milestone in the maturation of Nashville as a pro sports market. Five seasons ago, some outsiders carped that it just wasn't fitting for such a newcomer to the NFL to occupy a Super Bowl berth. Nashvillians, they complained, hadn't paid their dues like some long-suffering towns.
Nobody can say that anymore. Nashville just paid up big-time.