And what shall we name our new little crown jewel?
And what shall we name our new little crown jewel? No, I’m not talking about His Royal Highness Prince George Alexander Louis of Cambridge. I’m talking about the long-gestating stadium of Minneapolis, formerly known as Mall of America Field, formerly known as the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome, formerly known as Metropolitan Stadium.
The stakes for this little name game are high. The owners of the San Francisco 49ersrecently negotiated a stadium naming rights deal worth $220 million over 20 years with Levi Strauss, an obscure little brand desperate to buy itself some name recognition. Vikings owner Zygi Wilf hopes to secure a cool $10 to $15 million per year off of naming rights of the new stadium.
The Wilfs have hired a firm to handle this task in Minnesota, Van Wagner Sports and Entertainment. The naming guru at Van Wagner, Jeff Wagner, gave us “Target Center” a few years back.
But I am willing to offer my services for free. After much research, here is my detailed analysis:
U.S. Bank Stadium. This is the front-runner, because U.S. Bancorp is local, and because financial institutions are big into the stadium naming game these days.
OmniSynCorp Stadium. OmniSynCorp is a little known start-up company that spent all its seed capital on hiring a corporate naming firm that now badly wants to see its name in lights.
Con: Promoting a business that will be in Chapter 11 in a few months may ultimately reflect poorly on the home team’s brand.
Pro: The corporate naming firm promises that the corporations’ bleeding edge brand represents “an iconic homage to the game-changing synergistic synergy imbedded in our value-added values.”
Target Stadium. I mean, why not? We already have Target Center, Target Field, the Target Public School system, and Target Politicians.
Con: It’s unfair to poor Walmart.
Pro: It’s the soothing symmetry that only monopolies can offer.
People’s Stadium. Governor Dayton famously promised us, this would be a “people’s stadium,” not just the Vikings’ stadium, which persuaded the people of Minnesota to put up a half-billion dollars to pay for the joint.