In 1996, Gary Bettman was about three years into his tenure as NHL commissioner when the Winnipeg Jets were sold to an investment group led by Richard Burke and relocated to Phoenix.
I don’t recall any great effort by Bettman to keep the team in Winnipeg at the time. Too cold. Too small a market. Too antiquated arena. And the Canadian dollar has traded at or below 70 cents against its US dollar counterpart. That meant running a temporary salary cap team in the NHL there — or anywhere else in little Canada — was a financially risky proposition.
Honestly, what choice did poor Gary and the NHL Board of Governors have but agree to the team’s transfer? After all, Bettman was originally hired to support the league’s growth as a company. And Phoenix looked like a Holy Grail. The fifth largest city in the United States by population. A key place to fill out the NHL’s presence on US television.
And for a while it looked promising.
People forget: The early years at America West Arena, the downtown Phoenix facility they shared with the NBA’s Phoenix Suns, were packed and boisterous. Unfortunately, the building was completely unsuitable for ice hockey. Because it was built to house a basketball team, the view of the seats at one end of the arena was blocked.
Not ideal. Still, for a while it looked like it would work.
Until that wasn’t the case.
The Coyotes became a soap opera. Moving to the suburb of Glendale was a disaster in many ways. A series of owners and potential owners, each with their own six-episode story arc. Remember Steve Ellman (and his minority partner, a man named Gretzky)? Jerry Moyes? George Gosbee? Andrew Barroway? Alex Meruelo? These are just a few of the people who eventually gained full or partial ownership of the team.
There were also failed attempts by Jerry Reinsdorf, Matt Hulsizer, Greg Jamison, Darin Pastor, and the Ice Edge Group, all of whom got on the Coyotes’ nerves and for one reason or another couldn’t or couldn’t complete the purchase.
The most notorious of the failed attempts to buy the Coyotes came from BlackBerry executive Jim Balsillie, who wanted to relocate the team to Hamilton, Ontario. This attempted sale was eventually blocked by a court on behalf of the NHL.
Eventually, the league ran the team for four years after Moyes filed for bankruptcy, which put Bettman in charge as de facto CEO.
In fact, the coyotes became Bettman’s white whale, his albatross, the thing he couldn’t let go.
In so many other aspects of his work and corporate life, Bettman is so hands-on and pragmatic. So, que sera sera.
The Coyotes got personal. They became an obsession. The more people advised him to give it up — and let them go somewhere else — the more adamant Bettman insisted they stay. The Coyotes played the 4,500-seat Mullett Arena on the Arizona State University campus last season.
It was intended to be a temporary measure for three to four years until the team could build a new arena in Tempe. Note here: Under no circumstances would Bettman ever have agreed to similar temporary housing for another team.
He did it for the Coyotes because he invested so much personal capital to keep them in Arizona. But on Tuesday, voters in suburban Phoenix voted against three proposals to build a $2.1 billion entertainment district that would have included a new arena for the Coyotes.
Bettman appeared in person at all Tempe City Council meetings where the arena project was discussed and acted on behalf of the team. He promised that if construction was approved, the Coyotes would stay in Arizona forever. He never did that for Winnipeg. Or Atlanta.
Officially, both the league and team responded with similar statements when they received the bad news on Tuesday night. Bettman was “terribly disappointed” with the results of the referendum, while the Coyotes were only “very disappointed”. Both statements promised that the team owners and commissioner will meet in the coming weeks to assess what’s next for the franchise.
Realistically, there is only one logical way.
Sell the team and move it somewhere else. Houston would be the easy choice. It’s another major US city without an NHL team. A natural rival to the Dallas Stars. A team that could fit well into the league’s current conference configuration. Salt Lake City, Kansas City and Portland would also meet the latter criteria. Atlanta has failed twice as an NHL franchise, but support for a third attempt appears to be growing there.
And of course, there’s a lot of appeal in returning to Quebec City, which also lost its team around the same time the original Jets moved to Phoenix. In practice, getting into a real hockey market like Quebec is low on the league’s priority list and likely only likely for fans (and a few jaded hockey writers who remember what it was like when Quebec City was the NHL’s answer). be a pipe dream to the Green Bay Packers).
At this point, after a crushing defeat at the ballot box, one would imagine that even Bettman would finally be ready to admit defeat and let it go. But knowing Bettman and his playbook, he can’t or won’t let that happen, at least not right away. It feels like it’s over.
If maintaining the Arizona franchise wasn’t such a fix for Bettman, it would be safe to predict it’s over.
Logically, practically and financially, that enthusiasm for Arizona has come to an end. But what are they saying?
The best way to predict future behavior is to pay attention to the past. After 27 years of beating the drum for this franchise, part of me thinks that Bettman isn’t ready to wave the white flag just yet. On the other hand. Knowing how Bettman thinks and acts, it shouldn’t come as a surprise if he doesn’t try—one last time—to pull another rabbit out of the hat and keep the team in Arizona.
Let’s see if I’m right.
(Photo: Christian Petersen / Getty Images)