A’s fans are holding a wake, a catharsis, and a party, too.
Let’s hope the mood doesn’t turn to anger and the crowd in Oakland doesn’t get destructive Wednesday night and for Thursday’s matinee, which will be the last A’s game in Oakland before they depart for Sacramento for at least three seasons. Then it’s onto Las Vegas, if John Fisher actually can get a new stadium built.
Let’s presume that the spirit will be just as festive as it seemed Wednesday at the Coliseum: loud, energetic, nostalgic, and, yes, celebratory.
And it should be partly a celebration these last few days. It’s bittersweet, of course, because everything that the A’s have meant to this community is being taken away by somebody who never gave anything back.
But there should be smiles, too, because once he’s gone, Fisher can’t hurt The Town and its fans anymore. Nobody can take away their memories of Rickey Henderson, Reggie Jackson, Mark McGwire, Tim Hudson, and Miguel Tejada. And now they can just laugh at Fisher’s next 100 mistakes and failures.
OK, yes, losing the A’s will leave a void that may never be filled. I’m always struck by the sustained sadness in Brooklyn over losing the Dodgers to L.A. in 1957, or the pain still felt in Seattle over losing the SuperSonics to Oklahoma City in 2008.
It’s a difficult thing to imagine and an almost impossible thing to lose. But all these A’s fans are winning something from all this, too. I think they’re feeling it now. I think they will be shouting it in the stadium over these last days.
They don’t have to give their money to John Fisher anymore.
‘I feel for everybody who had to read that ridiculous public letter that Fisher released this week. … Essentially, it was Fisher AI — artificial incompetence.’
They don’t have to deal with all those announcements about a new stadium site in the Bay Area (Fremont! San Jose! Laney College! A new Coliseum! Howard Terminal!) followed by stalled talks and inevitable breakdowns, then another big announcement, then more stalled talks and another breakdown. They don’t have to deal with hearing that Fisher just didn’t want to make the financial commitment, didn’t have the clout, or just couldn’t avoid another embarassing failure.
You can partially blame Oakland politicians for the last collapsed negotiation at Howard Terminal, but only for a bit of it. Because the same problems cropped up and killed the deals between Fisher and several other municipalities — and may yet implode the deal in Las Vegas.
Let Las Vegas worry about this now. Let Sacramento deal with Fisher for a few years. Let them try to get a clear answer from him or even get him to speak publicly. Let the next city feel the disappointment of Fisher’s penury and silence. Let the next group of fans wonder why Fisher owns a team if he doesn’t care about the games.
Let Oakland be free of this.
I feel for the children in the Bay Area who won’t be able to go to games in the East Bay and for the parents and grandparents who won’t be able to take them. I feel for everybody who had to read that ridiculous public letter Fisher released this week, which surely was written by some cold PR hand. Essentially, it was Fisher AI — artificial incompetence.
But in another way, that letter was a perfect Fisher kiss-off. He said he wished he could speak to every A’s fan in person, but he has hidden from view persistently during his ownership. He said he was “genuinely sorry” for the way this ended. But Fisher could’ve closed the Howard Terminal or Laney College deal long ago and been well on his way to a new stadium in Oakland by now. Or he could’ve focused all attention on the Coliseum site that he is abandoning and will be left without a major sports team.
Remember, if not for Fisher refusing to cooperate with Raiders plans for the Coliseum, the Raiders might still be in Oakland with a rebuilt Coliseum. If you don’t believe me, just ask Mark Davis about that one.
It is, ultimately, just bad business to be involved with Fisher. I think Sacramento will learn this soon enough. And Las Vegas, too.
Someone semi-involved in the Howard Terminal negotiations once told me: Hey, this might happen, but if you’re Oakland or any of the taxpayers, do you really want a multibillion-dollar project depending on Fisher to sustain it?
When Fisher’s involved in something, it almost always crumbles. Maybe it will crumble in Las Vegas. And maybe there will be a chance for Oakland to get the A’s back again. I don’t know if that’s likely, because MLB owners might prefer other cities. But there’s a shot.
So that’s why I believe A’s fans will continue with the good vibes Wednesday and through Thursday’s farewell. Hopefully, they won’t tear apart the Coliseum, because breaking down that stadium will mean nothing to Fisher. That’s never been his building. That’s the home of Catfish Hunter and Vida Blue, not John Fisher. That’s the home of A’s fans, not the man who plundered them.
Nobody has metaphorically vandalized A’s fans and the Coliseum more than Fisher. For years and years, he’s torn apart this community and let that stadium and franchise fall into disrepair for his own purposes.
Don’t be a Fisher. Because the single thing that defines his stewardship of the A’s is that he’s lost everything he’s ever tried to do. Losers leave town. Winners stick around and see what can be done next.