10
Jim Balsillie may inspire some of his would-be peers in the National Hockey League to fire arrows in his direction — but he is not without a few formidable weapons of his own in his fight to buy the Nashville Predators.
The funny thing is, the guy who stands to benefit most from Balsillie's expensive stab at NHL ownership is not exactly springing into action to help him unleash the best weapon.
Craig Leipold, still the Predators' owner of record, has gone curiously silent since Balsillie's "contingency plan" to move the team to Hamilton exploded into headlines this week.
Oh, and by the way, that contingency plan is percolating right along.
By the end of yesterday, Balsillie and company reeled in about $6.25-million in deposits on season tickets and luxury suites at Copps Coliseum in Hamilton.
Sixty of the 70 proposed suites were booked at $5,000 each, according to The Canadian Press, while 4,700 lower-bowl seats went for $1,000 each and about 2,500 upper-bowl seats went for $500 each.
This went over as expected with the NHL, which is vastly less-than-enthused about Balsillie's dealings in Hamilton.
NHL deputy commissioner Bill Daly responded dryly when asked for his opinion: "We have no comment. That's Mr. Balsillie's business, and I'm sure it will be considered by the [league board of governors] in combination with a host of other factors in evaluating his application for ownership."
But Larry Quinn, the managing partner of the Buffalo Sabres, who just might resent the Predators' intrusion into his team's territory, was non-plussed about the ticket campaign.
"I know Jim [Balsillie] and I like Jim," Quinn said. "But I don't know what to think. I don't know any of the facts. I want to wait and learn the facts."
As for Leipold, considering that the Predators have fewer than 9,000 season-ticket holders in Nashville, perhaps he was shocked into silence by the fact Hamilton sold almost as many tickets (7,200) in less than a day.
However, a fellow can't help but wonder why Leipold isn't making a lot of noise about the reticence of the league's head office to move this sale along.
If the opposition to Balsillie's bid is as broad as several NHL sources indicated this week, then Leipold has a lot to lose — somewhere in the range of $48-million (U.S.).
As part of his strategy to convince the NHL owners to accept him in terms they understand — greed — Balsillie agreed to pay Leipold upward of $238-million for the franchise, well above the going rate.
This instantly gave the league's owners the prospect of seeing the value of their own franchises climb. It also handsomely rewarded Leipold, who joined the league for $80-million in 1998 (with the City of Nashville paying about $25-million of that) and endured tens of millions in losses since then.
This is why it is odd Leipold has not said much since Balsillie's bid was bashed from here to Nashville this week. If Balsillie, the co-CEO of BlackBerry manufacturer Research In Motion, gets turned down, the only visible alternative is William (Boots) Del Biaggio, who dropped out of the bidding at $190-million.
You might think Leipold would be on the phone to NHL commissioner Gary Bettman every day this week, keeping the heat on to close the deal.
(If it were me, I'd be saying, "Gary, you owe me big-time. I'm the guy who marshalled the small-market forces in the lockout. I'm the hard-liner who led the charge to the salary cap. I sat on your negotiating committee and helped wear down the players. Now I want to cash out and I'm not taking a $48-million haircut. Otherwise, I'll sue the pants off the lot of you.")
Bettman is known to wield a quick whip hand to keep the governors in line. Part of his aversion to Balsillie is said to be the perception he will be a perpetual pain as an owner.
But surely with that much money at stake, Leipold cannot be that timid about confronting Bettman.
Then again, Leipold did stretch the bonds of credulity by issuing a statement this week that said: "I was surprised to learn that [Balsillie's] application contained a conditional request to relocate the franchise."
Without Leipold lobbying on his behalf, Balsillie has a problem he doesn't need. Considering his public courting of Hamilton while insisting he doesn't plan to leave Nashville, though, Balsillie is not one to shy from the hard way.
Hang in there folks. This tale has many, many months to go before it ends.
