A new piece of Georgetown history was written yesterday as University President John J. DeGioia formally announced that a $100 million gift from class of 1975 alumnus Frank H. McCourt Jr. will be used to found the McCourt School of Public Policy.
Being the largest sum ever given to our University, this gift is an opportunity for progress in a field that Georgetown has yet to successfully traverse. But as a sports enthusiast myself, I cannot help but wonder what the name “McCourt” means in the world of sports.
Although this name will be posted all over our re-envisioned public policy school, it will also be a constant, unfortunate reminder of baseball’s largest financial scandal in recent memory. $100 million is an extraordinary amount of money to donate and we are lucky to expand our academic horizons, but let’s take a look back a year or so and see where exactly this money is coming from. Our story begins in 2009 when the curtain dropped on the absolute mess that was the Los Angeles Dodgers’ ownership as McCourt’s now ex-wife Jamie filed for divorce.
This embarrassing debacle between husband and wife caused serious distractions in the management of the baseball franchise that would severely affect the efficiency and legitimacy of the organization. It also provided a new transparency to the McCourt ownership module, which is where the most offensive decisions the McCourts made had been hidden. From the time that McCourt bought the Dodgers in 2004 to this point in 2009, the couple had achieved a debt of $460 million by providing the team’s worth as collateral for the massive loans they hungered for.
Unless multi-million dollar real estate purchases and what most would say was a ridiculously lavish lifestyle might have had some positive effect on the team, then I wouldn’t say that McCourt had the team’s best interest in mind when he borrowed almost half a billion dollars. I wouldn’t have so much of a problem with McCourt’s way of living had he not been putting one of the most storied franchises of our nation’s pastime in jeopardy. He threw the Dodgers into bankruptcy, and for no better reason than because he selfishly wanted to spend more money than he could afford.
What is most enraging about all of the hassle and conflict that McCourt forced upon the Dodgers, their fans, Los Angeles, and Major League Baseball was that, in the end, he won. He left the broken-down franchise with all its newfound inefficiencies and management debacles after a $2 billion bankruptcy sale to Magic Johnson’s group. After paying off a debt of almost $600 million, legal fees from his divorce, taxes, and the $131 million he was required to give his ex-wife, McCourt walked away from the ruins of a baseball team with over $800 million in his pocket, ready to continue his days in luxury.
So what lessons did we learn from this tale of irresponsibility, greed, and poor foresight? I guess sometimes the antagonist just gets his way no matter how unfair his actions, but, on the bright side, at least McCourt won’t be investing his money in any more baseball teams close to our hearts any time soon.
Also, even when taking advantage of people and situations for personal profit, you can still see the positive amid a cloud of deceit and demise. Enter the McCourt School of Public Policy.
Although I shudder to think that McCourt’s lack of respect and care towards the Dodgers and Major League Baseball could be good in any way, I have to realize that there is some truth to that statement. He trampled all over Major League Baseball by humiliating one of its teams and dragging it to the brink of relegation, but at least we get a new school out of it.
Ignorance is a truly unfortunate condition and so, as long as we know where all this wonderfully generous gift money is coming from, we can optimistically look forward to the new direction Georgetown will be taking in the field of public policy.
I can’t help but still feel a little greedy myself though. I wish McCourt could give a little back to the world of baseball, or at least to Georgetown’s baseball program. Maybe he could spare a couple more million on helping our own Hoya athletes in their pursuit of success (on-campus baseball field, hint hint).
