The Fraud of Jeffrey Loria: How One Man Ruined Two Franchises
Published by Ian Wenik (Columnist), Edited by Daniel Lewis (Editor-in-Chief) on November 22, 2012 in The Penn Sport Report.
Click to read article in The Penn Sport Report.
Click to read article in The Penn Sport Report.
Steve Mitchell/US Press Wire
A few short weeks after the 2012 World Series ended, the Miami Marlins rocked the baseball world when they traded away Jose Reyes, Josh Johnson, Mark Buehrle, John Buck, and Emilio Bonifacio to the Toronto Blue Jays, shedding over 163 million dollars in future salary.
Fans and media roundly criticized Marlins owner Jeffrey Loria for pushing forward with the deal just one year after opening Marlins Park, which was built using 608.8 million dollars of public funds from the city of Miami and Miami-Dade County.
Fox Sports’ Ken Rosenthal wonders “how Loria can face the people of South Florida…better he just sell [the team].”
Well, Ken and the people of South Florida should have seen this one coming a long time ago, because Miami is not the first city where Loria has crippled a baseball franchise.
Talk to the citizens of Montreal.
In 1999, Loria purchased what ultimately amounted to be a 94% stake in the Montreal Expos.
His first act? Demanding the construction of a new publicly funded stadium, Labatt Park, to replace the cavernous, obsolete Olympic Stadium. Where have we heard that one before?
In an attempt to drum up public support for his planned downtown stadium, Labatt Park, Loria went on a spending spree before the 2000 season, acquiring reliever Graeme Lloyd, starting pitcher Hideki Irabu, and first baseman Lee Stevens. The three’s salaries combined to equal almost half of the previous season’s payroll.
On-field success did not follow, though, as the Expos finished 67-95, good for fourth place in the NL East. All three were gone by the time Loria sold the team in 2002.
Loria was desperate to scrounge up public funding to support his grandiose vision of a downtown stadium. However, Premier of Quebec Lucien Bouchard shot down his dreams after rightly pointing out that the city would not finished paying debt service on Olympic Stadium until 2006. In a rare moment of perspective, Bouchard refused to allow funds from the province of Quebec to fund a stadium in an area where “we are forced to shut down hospitals.”
With no publicly funded stadium on the horizon, Loria quickly got to work gutting the Expos of any value they had.
Loria failed to come up with a contract that would provide the Expos with local television coverage or an English-speaking radio affiliate before the 2000 season, crippling the team’s access to non-Francophones in the region.
By 2001, attendance had plummeted to less than 10,000 fans a game, by far the lowest number in baseball. A few individual games even dropped under the 3000 mark.
Without a single marketable player outside of superstar outfielder Vladimir Guerrero, the Expos no longer held any appeal to the city of Montreal. After the 2001 season, the Expos, along with the Minnesota Twins, quickly became a candidate for contraction.
In the span of three short years, Jeffrey Loria took over the Expos with visions of a new ballpark, and instead promptly led them to the brink of destruction.
What did he do for an encore? He disappeared.
During the 2002 owners meetings, Loria sold the Expos to a partnership of the 29 other Major League clubs to the tune of $120 million, essentially selling the team to the commissioner’s office. He promptly used those profits to acquire the Marlins from John Henry for $158.5 million, with the remaining $38.5 million dollars covered by a no-interest loan from the league.
In a final parting shot to the city of Montreal, Loria took everything he could from the Expos on the way out, moving the team’s front office staff, on-field staff, and even their computer equipment with him to Florida.
In the aftermath of the franchise’s disemboweling, one anonymous official commented, “No matter how you slice it, [Loria] is pure evil.”
Everyone knows what happened next for the Expos.
After two years of above .500 finishes, Guerrero left town after the 2003 season for Anaheim. Two years later, so did the Expos, arriving in Washington, D.C. just in time for spring training in 2005.
In Miami, history has essentially repeated itself.
Though the Marlins won the World Series in 2003, Loria’s second year of ownership, he immediately followed that period of success with his trademark fire sale, jettisoning Mike Lowell, Josh Beckett, Luis Castillo, and Juan Pierre. Loria cried poverty due to the lack of a stadium deal.
However, despite operating with baseball’s lowest payroll, leaked financial records have shown that during the 2008 and 2009 seasons, Loria’s Marlin’s actually turned a profit of $33 million dollars, while receiving almost $92 million in revenue sharing, the most in baseball.
By the time these documents were released in 2010, though, construction had already begun on Marlins Park. Miami Mayor Manny Diaz and the Miami-Dade County Commission had already taken the bait on Loria’s con, hook, line, and sinker.
Marlins Park was supposed to be a symbol of change for Miami fans, an end to the constant fire sales and years of dwelling in baseball’s cellar.
But perhaps fans should have known that something was amiss when the Albert Pujols megadeal fell through because of Loria’s refusal to include a no-trade clause.
While Pujols did not fall for Loria, others did, including pitcher Mark Buehrle, who feels just as betrayed as the fans.
“Just like the fans in South Florida, I was lied to on multiple occasions,” Buehrle said. “But I’m putting it behind me.”
The Marlins’ spectacular implosion this year was the perfect cover for Loria to treat his roster like the paintings he trades by profession and start one of his famous fire sales.
Where does baseball go from here?
If Marlins Park had not been constructed, contraction would have been a viable option. Loria’s shiny new toy takes that option off the table, though some have suggested moving the budget-conscious Tampa Bay Rays, a team searching for a new stadium of their own, to take the Marlins’ place.
Despite public pressure to sell the team, Loria has insisted that he is committed to building a winning franchise, a statement that absolutely no one believes.
It seems that Miami is, sadly enough, stuck with Loria for the long haul.
Coincidentally enough, a sculpture donated by Loria named “King Solomon” resides on Penn’s campus, sitting on the entrance to Locust Walk from 36th street.
Looks like we’re stuck with him, too.
Fans and media roundly criticized Marlins owner Jeffrey Loria for pushing forward with the deal just one year after opening Marlins Park, which was built using 608.8 million dollars of public funds from the city of Miami and Miami-Dade County.
Fox Sports’ Ken Rosenthal wonders “how Loria can face the people of South Florida…better he just sell [the team].”
Well, Ken and the people of South Florida should have seen this one coming a long time ago, because Miami is not the first city where Loria has crippled a baseball franchise.
Talk to the citizens of Montreal.
In 1999, Loria purchased what ultimately amounted to be a 94% stake in the Montreal Expos.
His first act? Demanding the construction of a new publicly funded stadium, Labatt Park, to replace the cavernous, obsolete Olympic Stadium. Where have we heard that one before?
In an attempt to drum up public support for his planned downtown stadium, Labatt Park, Loria went on a spending spree before the 2000 season, acquiring reliever Graeme Lloyd, starting pitcher Hideki Irabu, and first baseman Lee Stevens. The three’s salaries combined to equal almost half of the previous season’s payroll.
On-field success did not follow, though, as the Expos finished 67-95, good for fourth place in the NL East. All three were gone by the time Loria sold the team in 2002.
Loria was desperate to scrounge up public funding to support his grandiose vision of a downtown stadium. However, Premier of Quebec Lucien Bouchard shot down his dreams after rightly pointing out that the city would not finished paying debt service on Olympic Stadium until 2006. In a rare moment of perspective, Bouchard refused to allow funds from the province of Quebec to fund a stadium in an area where “we are forced to shut down hospitals.”
With no publicly funded stadium on the horizon, Loria quickly got to work gutting the Expos of any value they had.
Loria failed to come up with a contract that would provide the Expos with local television coverage or an English-speaking radio affiliate before the 2000 season, crippling the team’s access to non-Francophones in the region.
By 2001, attendance had plummeted to less than 10,000 fans a game, by far the lowest number in baseball. A few individual games even dropped under the 3000 mark.
Without a single marketable player outside of superstar outfielder Vladimir Guerrero, the Expos no longer held any appeal to the city of Montreal. After the 2001 season, the Expos, along with the Minnesota Twins, quickly became a candidate for contraction.
In the span of three short years, Jeffrey Loria took over the Expos with visions of a new ballpark, and instead promptly led them to the brink of destruction.
What did he do for an encore? He disappeared.
During the 2002 owners meetings, Loria sold the Expos to a partnership of the 29 other Major League clubs to the tune of $120 million, essentially selling the team to the commissioner’s office. He promptly used those profits to acquire the Marlins from John Henry for $158.5 million, with the remaining $38.5 million dollars covered by a no-interest loan from the league.
In a final parting shot to the city of Montreal, Loria took everything he could from the Expos on the way out, moving the team’s front office staff, on-field staff, and even their computer equipment with him to Florida.
In the aftermath of the franchise’s disemboweling, one anonymous official commented, “No matter how you slice it, [Loria] is pure evil.”
Everyone knows what happened next for the Expos.
After two years of above .500 finishes, Guerrero left town after the 2003 season for Anaheim. Two years later, so did the Expos, arriving in Washington, D.C. just in time for spring training in 2005.
In Miami, history has essentially repeated itself.
Though the Marlins won the World Series in 2003, Loria’s second year of ownership, he immediately followed that period of success with his trademark fire sale, jettisoning Mike Lowell, Josh Beckett, Luis Castillo, and Juan Pierre. Loria cried poverty due to the lack of a stadium deal.
However, despite operating with baseball’s lowest payroll, leaked financial records have shown that during the 2008 and 2009 seasons, Loria’s Marlin’s actually turned a profit of $33 million dollars, while receiving almost $92 million in revenue sharing, the most in baseball.
By the time these documents were released in 2010, though, construction had already begun on Marlins Park. Miami Mayor Manny Diaz and the Miami-Dade County Commission had already taken the bait on Loria’s con, hook, line, and sinker.
Marlins Park was supposed to be a symbol of change for Miami fans, an end to the constant fire sales and years of dwelling in baseball’s cellar.
But perhaps fans should have known that something was amiss when the Albert Pujols megadeal fell through because of Loria’s refusal to include a no-trade clause.
While Pujols did not fall for Loria, others did, including pitcher Mark Buehrle, who feels just as betrayed as the fans.
“Just like the fans in South Florida, I was lied to on multiple occasions,” Buehrle said. “But I’m putting it behind me.”
The Marlins’ spectacular implosion this year was the perfect cover for Loria to treat his roster like the paintings he trades by profession and start one of his famous fire sales.
Where does baseball go from here?
If Marlins Park had not been constructed, contraction would have been a viable option. Loria’s shiny new toy takes that option off the table, though some have suggested moving the budget-conscious Tampa Bay Rays, a team searching for a new stadium of their own, to take the Marlins’ place.
Despite public pressure to sell the team, Loria has insisted that he is committed to building a winning franchise, a statement that absolutely no one believes.
It seems that Miami is, sadly enough, stuck with Loria for the long haul.
Coincidentally enough, a sculpture donated by Loria named “King Solomon” resides on Penn’s campus, sitting on the entrance to Locust Walk from 36th street.
Looks like we’re stuck with him, too.