Indian Wells’ Future Seems to Be on Upswing

As it turns out, just three years ago, this highly rated tennis tournament was a lot like Lleyton Hewitt against Roger Federer Sunday. It was trailing badly, down a set and a couple of breaks, and desperately trying to figure a way out.

Although the final results are probably several years off, there is enough evidence to say now that, unlike Hewitt, there is a decent chance for a comeback and a happy ending for the Pacific Life Open

It has been a strange two weeks at the Indian Wells Tennis Garden. There has been great tennis, bigger crowds, more general buzz about everything going on, and a dark cloud of financial uncertainty hovering overhead.

Nineteen years ago, a tennis visionary named Charlie Pasarell, once co-No. 1 with Arthur Ashe on the UCLA tennis team, partnered with another former player named Raymond Moore and had key management team members Steve Simon and Dee Dee Felich. They produced a wonderful tournament with a nice, 10,000-seat stadium on the grounds of a plush Hyatt Hotel. The players loved it, the fans loved it, the media loved it.

And Pasarell wanted more.

So, in 2000, a couple of clicks down the street to the east, Pasarell and Co. opened a new place, a 16,100-seat stadium that was so well done and so ambitious that everybody who came and saw were conquered. In those days, there were a few raised eyebrows about how they could pay for this $74-million Desert Taj Mahal, but little public airing of that concern.

But early in this year’s tournament, the rumors became loud enough to warrant questions, and the questions led to newspaper stories, and the stories led to the dark clouds. Sunday, at their annual breakfast chat with the media on the morning of the men’s final, Pasarell and Moore elaborated on the dark clouds.

Their marketing deal with the international firm ISL, the basis for building the bigger stadium and paying for it, left them with thin wallets when it fell through in June 2001. An annual $11 million for 10 years went away overnight. Then, two planes took down the World Trade Center on Sept. 11, and American business -- sponsors, marketing people, bankers, speculators, investors -- became turtles.

“We ran the tournament with little or no sponsorship in 2002,” Moore said. “First time in 23 years.”

At that point, the prize money for this combined men’s and women’s event, a bill usually footed by the sponsors, had topped $5 million. Since it is virtually impossible to cover that nut with revenue from tickets and hot dogs, the financial spiral had begun.

They got hammered on the bottom line in ’02 and barely crossed into the black in ‘03, not including debt service. All this time, they put on happy faces, paid down the huge construction debt as best they could and, to keep things going, took on a very unfavorable 8% loan. Interest on that alone costs them around $3.4 million a year.

Now, with bigger crowds sparking increasing revenue, plus more sponsors and some TV rights money from international distributors, Moore and Pasarell said they should soon be in good enough shape to make banks willing to redo that 8% loan. Last year’s record attendance of 267,834 was topped again with this year’s of 280,653.

“The graph is going in the right direction,” Moore said.

There is every reason to take this group at its word. Its emphasis has always been on running a great event, not lining its pockets, a rarity in sports these days.

But the red flag is up now, and caution is fair and reasonable.

Tennis is a tough way to have a successful bottom line. It is a niche sport, with almost no Joe Six Pack clientele. Its core fans are loyal, and, in the big picture, minuscule in numbers. Its TV ratings are tiny, partly because Joe Six Pack really doesn’t care and has 125 other sports choices on his remote control.

Media outlets base coverage judgments on that, and it’s often hard for those in the forest to see the trees.

Moore blasted Sports Illustrated for ignoring his event, saying it ought to rename itself Some Sports Illustrated.

An event like this can be hit by heat (last year), wind (this year) and rain (any year). It can have its anticipation balloon deflated as quickly as a Venus Williams sore knee or an Andre Agassi sore toe.

It can get its star players into the spotlight at the times and places it wants and have them stink out the place (see Maria Sharapova, 0-6, 0-6) or be so dominating they are boring (see Federer, almost any match).

But if this sport can make it huge anywhere beyond the license-to-print-money Grand Slams, it should be here, in the wealthy-demographics desert, in a still-sparkling-new stadium, with a fan buzz getting louder every year, led by Pasarell and Moore, who say they want to be doing this same thing 30 years from now.

Matter of fact, if you see somebody rally from way behind this year to beat Federer, think of it as an omen.