Some Confusion at the Line of Scrimmage for Anaheim

It was May 2003 and Anaheim was living mighty large for a “small market” (Jackie Autry’s words, once upon a time) town noted for mouse ears, strip malls, pipe dreams and lost professional football franchises.

Its baseball team, for 40 years the official exploding cigar of the American League, was improbably, amazingly, the reigning World Series champion.

Its hockey team, figuring two can play the absurd miracle game, was on its way to the Stanley Cup finals.

The Sporting News, stunned chronicler of such illogical sporting news, was on its way to naming Anaheim-Los Angeles as its “best sports city” in America. For a few fleeting months, Anaheim was not only on the map, it owned the map, even if no one ever bothered to show that map to Arte Moreno.

Two years later, Anaheim finds itself in a very weird place, even for Anaheim.

The Angels apparently play in Los Angeles now. The Ducks aren’t playing anywhere anymore.

City officials, obviously, are shaken. That much was evident at Tuesday’s bizarre news conference to announce that everybody was on board with this bold plan to turn Katella Avenue into the Champs-Elysses -- only minus the culture, the history, the food, the shopping, the ambience, the vibe and the soul, but with loads more drive-thru restaurants -- and bring the NFL back to Anaheim.

That’s right, everyone here is firmly united to gift-wrap $150 million worth of prime real estate and serve it up with incense and rose petals at the feet of Paul Tagliabue and ... hey, what are you doing, Councilman Sidhu?

Incoming! Incoming!

Or, to borrow a local colloquialism:

Duck! Duck!

Anaheim councilman Harry Sidhu stole the show by ambushing the city’s carefully choreographed presentation with a weapon seldom seen in the city’s dalliances with big-time sports: common sense.

Sidhu railed against the proposed project’s “abuse” of taxpayer money. He suggested that the millions required to woo the NFL might be better used for public works and city improvement. He referenced the city’s latest and greatest sports boondoggle, its current lease with the no-longer “Anaheim Angels,” calling it “a total disaster for the city.”

Clearly, this was heresy. But then, Sidhu was only elected to the council last November. He’s a rookie. He was showing his inexperience. Apparently, he was dumping his Kool-Aid in the potted fern when the others were chugging it.

Sidhu didn’t know the proper Anaheim strategy in these high-level sports negotiations. Which is to cave at the earliest convenience to (take your pick) Disney/the NFL/the NHL/the NBA.

After the Rams bolted for St. Louis in 1995, Anaheim was hurting and the Angels opportunistically zeroed in on a weak spot, hinting about following Georgia Frontiere out of town if the city didn’t upgrade the team’s lease. Anaheim responded dutifully and predictably, giving the Angels the deal they wanted in exchange for one precious carrot -- the Angels would agree to adopt a single word, “Anaheim,” on the corporate letterhead.

Anaheim paid dearly for the right to stitch those seven letters across a few baseball jerseys. And now, the city doesn’t even have that. Moreno, a miracle worker in his own right, moved the Angels back to Los Angeles even though their home games still happen inside a stadium located in Anaheim. This is confusing to America, and embarrassing to Anaheim, which decided to sue the franchise that delivered the city’s proudest moment in 2002.

And Anaheim has a high tolerance for embarrassment. Consider its perpetual flirtation with the Clippers, in which city officials convene every so often to play the fool for Donald Sterling, an amazing, and unequaled, athletic achievement.

So it was quite a sight, seeing Sidhu break ranks with his daring end-around. As local news stories go, if this wasn’t man bites dog, it was definitely man bites mouse.

Rest assured, the NFL took notice of Sidhu’s outburst. Anaheim Mayor Curt Pringle, trying his best to salvage the situation, observed that the council still had the votes to proceed with the plan, with or without Sidhu’s approval. Which is true. But to the NFL, image is crucial. And the image presented by Anaheim to the league Tuesday was that of a house divided.

As Los Angeles fatefully learned in 1999, when it blew a commanding lead and lost its expansion bid to Houston, the NFL has no tolerance for ambivalence in these stadium negotiations. This is the one playing field where the NFL does not appreciate parity or competitive balance. It wants to see total commitment. It wants to see a landslide.

Anaheim already is playing from behind in this contest, so it’s a little desperate. The NFL and Moreno see eye to eye on one thing -- there is value in the name “Los Angeles.” The NFL wants back in Los Angeles. The Coliseum can give the NFL that much. Anaheim can’t, but it’s trying to rally, so it’s sending the league a message that is confusing at best and contradictory at worst.

The city says the property marked for the NFL stadium is hotter than ever, yet it is offering to give it away.

The city says Anaheim is not Los Angeles, never will be, is proud and protective of the difference, but it is open to the idea of an NFL team playing in Anaheim using the tag “Los Angeles.”

The city says Anaheim is a wonderful place for a professional team to call home, yet it is suing the baseball team that plays its home games in Anaheim.

The NFL looks all of this over. The NFL reads Sidhu’s comments in the newspapers. And if this is an offer Sidhu says he can refuse, well, he might not be the only one.