Thead Count Theory

Not to be competitive, but I love sports as much as the next guy. Probably more.

I grew up in Cleveland Ohio. That’s a place where professional sports gets in the blood early. You don’t have a choice.

I need the Portland Timbers the way a lot of people around here need the Blazers. I think the Thorns kick ass. The Portland Fire will show a lot people, many of them young girls, what woman-power looks like. We need that.

So I’m happy and relieved at the news that the Blazers have a buyer who’s intending to keep the team here. Portland isn’t Portland without the Blazers. Frankly, I’m pulling for Major League Baseball too. Sitting in the sun down on the waterfront, taking in a game? Count me in.

It’s all great. I love it so much I spent most of my late teens and early 20s covering sports for radio and TV.

But around that time, my mid-20s, I woke up to the fact that these teams and games, no matter how much fun they are, no matter how much they serve as projections of personal and civic self-worth — aren’t what make us great.

Cities are tapestries of relationships of all kinds. People doing business together, of course. But a city is also where, together, we socialize, learn, relax, eat, drink and ponder. Where we experience the same weather. See the same mountain, the same skyline. Curse the same traffic. These shared experiences, when we can talk about them with each other — multiplicative, interesting and rich as they are — this is what makes a city great.

When we understand that these relationships and shared experiences are the threads of the tapestry, we might think differently about how we spend our money, vote for school measures, or engage local contractors for professional services. We might begin to want more of these very things.

What makes a city great is its thread count. And the way to get a high thread count city is to invest in who’s already here. Dollars that go into local businesses, including professional services, are oxygen molecules to blood cells. We invest and relationships grow. Relationships lead to innovation and new ventures. New ventures mean Portlanders have more to take advantage of, to enjoy, to work for, invest in. When we have more of all that, we are more resilient in every way.

So cheers to keeping the Blazers in Portland. Great cities and professional sports go together and they always will. But I’m celebrating the news because without the Blazers here, I would have never met Kevin Kinghorn, their EVP for Marketing and Innovation, nor had the chance to introduce him to my son, an aspiring sports business executive. Nor would my son have had the chance to learn something from a pro’s pro, working in an NBA front office.

That learning and connection and excitement isn’t available everywhere. But it happens here — every minute of every day. I’m doing it myself, meeting freelancers and independent consultants every day and adding to their networks however I can. Tiny threads in a huge tapestry.

You can’t always see the greatness that you’re a part of. Spectator sports help us with that. But it’s the thread count that matters most. Keep it local and know that the weave is getting tighter and better. And cheer for everyone who’s doing their thing. That’s the best sport there is.