Sacramento BeeArena name game is a gambleMaloofs face many pitfalls if they must court Arco successor. For 21 years it has been the corporate equivalent of marital bliss, a joining of company name and a basketball team's home court so seamless that it has become nearly impossible to think of the Sacramento Kings without thinking of Arco Arena. That's how naming rights are supposed to work. But things are different now than when Arco extended its arena sponsorship in 1999 for $750,000 a year. The arena is seven years older. Maloof Sports, which owns the Kings and Arco Arena, has made it clear it wants a new venue -- quick. Meanwhile, Arco's contract expires next year and it is not clear whether London-based oil giant BP Plc, which bought Arco in 2000, is committed to staying in a marriage that it didn't arrange. Maloof Sports and entertainment could soon find itself looking for another suitor if ongoing talks with Arco break down. Like anyone trolling for a new squeeze, the company will need to be careful. "The sports world is littered with these deals that have gone bad," said Bob Darwell, a Los Angeles-based media and entertainment lawyer. "A good deal isn't just about giving the rights to whoever can write the biggest check." Companies and arena operators have been tripped up by corporate scandals, unforeseen mergers and public backlash. Sometimes a building can cycle through so many names so quickly that the public can't keep the sponsor straight: Is it Pac Bell Park, SBC or AT&T where the San Francisco Giants play? Network Associates Coliseum or McAfee where the Oakland Raiders play? Candlestick, 3Com or Monster Park where the San Francisco 49ers reside? "What we know in this industry is that in order for branding to have effect you really need a relationship to last a minimum of seven to 10 years," said Dean Bonham, head of the Denver-based Bonham Group sports marketing firm. If Maloof Sports and Entertainment starts interviewing new sponsors, it also will need to be concerned with its potential partner's image. Corporate bankruptcies and scandals can sour a naming rights agreement overnight. The Houston Astros baseball team in 2002 paid $2.1 million to buy back the naming rights for the former Enron Field after the high-flying Houston-based energy company collapsed in scandal. "Arena and stadium owners have to be aware that these things can happen," said Brian R. Socolow, a lawyer with New York City-based Loeb & Loeb LLP who specializes in intellectual property disputes. "At a minimum it's embarrassing. At its worst, it can cost millions if the company goes out of business." For decades, sports venues commemorated veterans (Soldier Field in Chicago), prominent local figures (Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome in Minneapolis), their teams (Yankee Stadium in New York) or their communities (Kingdome in Seattle). The new generation of stadium and arena names are largely devoid of such sentimental connections and occasionally take downright odd twists that can spin out of control. For example, TD Banknorth Garden in Boston has had 34 names in 13 years. Originally Shawmut Center, it became FleetCenter when Fleet Bank and Shawmut merged. Then Bank of America Corp. bought Fleet and sold the arena's naming rights to Delaware North Cos. As a stunt, Delaware North last spring auctioned off one-day rights for a month on eBay. For two days the arena was officially Yankees Suck Center. Delaware North then called it Your Garden until TD Banknorth Inc., a unit of Toronto-Dominion Bank, bought the rights. "Of course, people get it confused with TD Waterhouse Centre," said Josh Boyd, a Purdue University communications professor who studies the power of naming rights, referring to the home of the NBA's Orlando Magic. Sometimes the public refuses to go along, said Frank Vuono, former executive vice president of NFL Properties and co-founder of sports consulting firm 16W Marketing in New Jersey. Chicago-based Bank One Corp., for example, in 1998 committed $33.1 million over 30 years to naming the Arizona Diamondbacks' home baseball field only to have the public turn the name into an acronym: "The B.O.B." JP Morgan Chase & Co. changed the name to Chase Field last year after it bought Bank One. Vuono, who was heavily involved in negotiating the deal that transformed San Francisco's Candlestick Park into 3Com Park, recalled "most of the media refused to say the name at first." "Then they realized, 'Hey, these are the same people who advertise on our network," Vuono said. "So you see, these deals aren't a bad thing. They're a good thing. You've just got to handle them right."
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