American fans of Formula One, many of whom have just been notified that
their only avenue to the sport, television, will raise rates this month,
must find it amusing that the sport enjoyed record broadcast revenues
last year.
Well, amusing might not be the right word.
What we have from the governing side of the sport, whipped up by FIA
president Max Mosley's bleating and walloped home by a global financial
meltdown, is the best chance in years for fans to relate to the sport:
living on reduced means. Who among us can't appreciate imposed cutbacks
these days? Discovering which teams wind up competitive in the face
of slashed staff and budgets stands to make this season far more
interesting than many of late. Rules changes could provide a great
opportunity for those other teams -- who are they again? -- to supplant
the 800-pound gorillas from Woking and Maranello. So, something to look
forward to.
But now comes word that the commercial side of the enterprise raked in
big bucks last year. Why so? Because the sport appeals as sport. We
weren't tuning in for grid girls and celebrity girlfriends, unseen techy
stuff or exotic scenery. It's all about cars on track. Especially in the
rain.
Better still is that noise from within indicates team grand poobahs are
set to demand more of the takings as part of their due. Or at least to
cover costs of this icky budgeting stuff.
Understand that the individual orchestrating the cash bath of Formula
One, a certain Bernard C. Ecclestone, made millionaires of said grand
poobahs even as he made a billionaire of himself. On television
revenues. He managed to do so and to keep massive amounts of dosh ($3.48
billion) for himself, all tidily stored away in companies held in the
name of a certain, now divorce-seeking wife.
That team grandees would call for a bigger payout from revenues infers
they don't only think about tire graining and brake temperatures. Good
on 'em for it. Their attention to the matter might just drop a 10-ton
weight of reason onto the show. We're hoping F1's deep thinkers who
seem to know every marketing move NASCAR makes will take -- in the face
of stock-car team cutbacks -- a clear look at the most financially
successful sports league to date, the National Football League.
Since the early 1960s, when sport's grandest -- dare we say immortal --
grand poobah, Commissioner Pete Rozelle, introduced (imposed?) the idea,
the NFL has shared television revenues. Equal payouts to each team. It's
a brilliant scheme that lets small-market clubs compete with big-city
entries. (Quick review: New York Giants, unexpected Super Bowl winners
in 2008, out of the playoffs in 2009.) A few other ideas, such as the
team with the worst record earning the right to the top draft pick --
this would be akin to Force India earning the right to employ GP2 winner
Giorgio Pantano as its driver -- has kept NFL competitiveness firmly
locked in fans' minds and the league tied firmly to the cliche'
that on any given Sunday, any team can win. The NFL also successfully
instituted a salary cap, something F1 is looking at now.
Although SportsBusiness Journal reports the NFL will fall $50 million or
even $60 million short of revenue projections for the 2008 fiscal year
that runs April 1 to March 31, the publication quoted a league spokesman
as saying the shortfall will be less than 1 percent of combined league
and team takings. You math types can do what you will with that. And
the league claimed an "ambitious" income forecast. So while league
sponsorships -- the so-called business partners -- have made cutbacks
affecting their sports associations -- for instance, General Motors
will not advertise during next month's Super Bowl broadcast -- the NFL
won't be going through the drastic changes that will mark F1 this year.
CNNMoney.com reports 2009 Super Bowl ad spots are mostly sold, thank
you.
The message -- or should that be demand? -- for Bernie needs to be:
share and share alike. If such had been in place already, perhaps Honda
wouldn't be F1 past tense. (How Japan can be considered F1 mad but can't
find the corporate readies to back private or factory teams is another
discussion, one that should include the United States.)
A share-out tactic is needed so Mosley won't have to spend his
afternoons fretting if F1 will pare itself to 14 runners, a figure he
says would do in the sport. Oh, wait, he doesn't spend his afternoons
that way anyway, does he?
Meantime, fans in America have to cough up bucks. Buddy, can you spare a
fiver -- 12 times?
