Lev's Good Ideas #026: The New York Knicks Need a "Locals" Section
Tying the team to the city is just good business
Today’s edition of Lev’s Good Ideas is inspired by an almost-good idea by New York City Mayoral Candidate (and Twitter follower of the author) Zellnor Myrie.
Upset at the admittedly high prices for New York Knicks playoff tickets (that will happen in a populace city with an iconic team that has had minimal playoff success) Zellnor suggested that James Dolan, Knicks owner, give 1,000 NBA Playoff tickets to working class Knicks fans––and maybe a pair for us, while he’s at it.
This is a nice thought, but an absurd non-starter for several reasons, not the least of which is: Zellnor, with his 3,000 views, simply does not have the juice to make this demand.
Similarly, this is a confusing nightmare. How would you even vet those working class Knicks fans? And what would the Knicks even have to gain by giving away 500k in tickets?
Fortunately, Zellnor has me: a good idea merchant and political consultant for hire.
Let’s flip this idea into a proposal.
In Fenway Park––itself a small, storied sports venue––there is a spot in the far bleachers called “The Dunkin’ Dugout” sponsored by Dunkin’ Donuts.
These are 20 “charity seats” donated through rotating good causes in the city, featuring youth and charitable organizations at local sporting events.
Dunkin’ Donuts is not a charity: it is a business, and a deeply successful one. A large part of that success comes from their universal “Boston” branding, which somehow has translated into a winning national identity.
But a secondary, equally valuable proposition is that it evokes a valuable feeling for The Boston Red Sox themselves: they’re doing the right thing for their communities.
Furthermore, we know that it is a significant value add for The New York Knicks to include celebrities in their game plan. Timothee Chalamet and Bad Bunny aren’t paying that 20k sticker price for the playoffs: they’re being comped because they bring value to the brand.
So: how can we marry these two concepts, borrowing from Zellnor Myrie’s instinctively correct stance that working class New York Knicks fans are boxed out of the experience?
You’d expect a simple answer: that I suggest The New York Knicks add a charity section, branching the game into more accessible audience.
While that’s a fine idea, it’s lacking in vision and actionability: to go deeper, we need to add one more detail to make this really fit: the long-forgotten solidarity New York had with workers during Covid.
In New York, during Covid, essential workers, were briefly considered heroes. They were treated with reverence, respect, and acknowledgement. We understood an interconnected balance that makes the city work.
We can do that again: and, in doing so, connect The New York Knicks to the concept of New York, from which their power and branding emanate.
The latter part is critical because The New York Knicks are not quite The New York team. That would be The Yankees; they own the mindshare, the branding, the pulse of the city all the way from The Bronx.
This idea sings because New York is large and varied enough that there are well-known, well-respected, well-like agencies that can be celebrated and that advertising to those segments is in and of itself valuable: giving 20 seats to MTA workers is good for everyone, including reminding all the MTA workers about the raffle for those tickets, the respect the Knicks have for them, and hey––maybe come sometime on your own dollar?
Public professions take on a new pride when “New York” is put in front of them: librarians, teachers, parks departments, taxi drivers, nurses, sanitation workers, and all the rest get a roar of approval that borrows from the patriotism. And, New York’s many unions (electricians, hospitality workers, electricians, ironworkers, plumbers, construction workers, port workers) can get a piece in a way that gives them respect and borrows their credibility––all while putting the onus of selecting the ticket recipients on them, offsetting the lion’s share of coordination to groups that would be happy to have it.
Check the litmus test: this idea is a winner politically (blue state inclusitivioty with red state “support our troops” blue collar pride) and economically (this is a very small cost to get marketing across major employment groups, creating long-term ties to the city from which your value comes.)
And the best part? You find a New York brand or company to sponsor this section, much like Dunkin’ did: you offset the costs of this initiative by making the deal––we’re going to highlight this section every game, because it’s good for us and good TV. Your brand can be tied to the Knicks and these popular New York City employment groups, every single game.
Remember: assuming a 20-seat section in “the cheap seats”, bought in bulk, across 50 home games (generously assuming 9 playoff home-games a year) should cost The New York Knicks about $100k in spent ticket costs a year. A $2M sponsorship from CitiGroup for this project would cover expenses for 20 years––relevant because CitiGroup paid $400M to name CitiField for the Mets in 2006 for 20 years, a deal conveniently about to expire.
The precedent makes sense. The math adds up. And the heart of the story––explicitly tying The New York Knicks to large and popular New York groups––is hard to beat.
Here, The New York Knicks can support their fans, support their city, and support themselves, making deeper ties to major New York City employment groups that raises credibility with those potential buyers who would otherwise feel boxed out.
It’s good for everyone, which makes it a good idea.
And if they listen, they can throw some court side seats for their good friend Lev.