Marley was dead to begin with.
These words, first published by Dickens in 1843, have echoed through the decades as a beacon of the holiday season, where an elderly miser is given a chance to redeem his previous ills. Thanks to the visit of three spirits that take him on a journey through his past, present, and future, Scrooge awakens Christmas morning a changed man. The fictional character of Ebenezer Scrooge is not an uncommon one found in the annals of history, and perhaps in the era of multi-billionaires, is just as relevant today as it was during the era of lords and ladies.
Our tale tonight begins on Christmas Eve in a humble Aspen home, purchased for $20.3 million, where Enos Stanley Kroenke and his Wal-Mart heiress wife have spent a short day on the slopes, dined on a fare prepared by household staff, and gone to sleep on their Egyptian cotton sheets. (As one of the largest landowners in the US, it’s hard to know where Stan would choose to spend the holidays, but for festivity’s sake, we’ve chosen Aspen.) Kroenke is awoken by a figure standing at the end of his bed. He blinks, with sleep in his eyes. Surely it can’t be? The NFL quarterback, Case Keenum? Despite playing for the Cleveland Browns, he is wearing his old #17 St. Louis Rams jersey, the one he wore when the team relocated back to Los Angeles. While he is still disbelieving, Kroenke arises from his bed and follows the mysterious figure because what else should one do when an NFL quarterback shows up in your bedroom on Christmas Eve?
“You’ll be visited by three sports figures tonight,” Keenum explains. And before he knows it, Kroenke is swept across time to show his modest upbringing in the home of Mora, Missouri, where he first worked for his father’s lumber company. Kroenke shakes his head at the memory of him sweeping his father’s lumber yard, but then he is witnessing his younger self beginning to break into real estate, building strip malls, and is an already self-made wealthy man when he goes on a skiing trip to Aspen in 1974. He sees himself in a brightly colored tight-fitting ski suit when he meets his future wife, Anne Walton. Anne is the daughter of James “Bud” Walton, the brother of Sam Walton and co-founder of the world’s largest company by revenue, Wal-Mart.
Hand-in-hand, Kroenke and Keenum fly through the year 2000, when he bought the Denver Nuggets and Colorado Avalanche, Kroenke points down longingly to Peter Forsberg and Patrick Roy warming up on the ice. “You’ll visit them later,” Keenum informs him, and they continue to 2010, where Kroenke relinquishes control of the Nuggets and Avs to his son, Josh, so that he can become full owner of the St. Louis Rams. Before 2010 Kroekne owned part of the team and was one of the driving factors to bring the franchise from Anaheim, CA to St. Louis in 1995. As a Missouri native, he was hailed a local hero.
The pair finally find themselves coming to a halt in the city of St. Louis in 2015. Kroenke has pleaded his case that the city is no longer fit as a viable market for their beloved football team and believes they have an inadequate stadium. He gained the NFL approval to relocate the franchise back to Southern California, where they would have a new state-of-the-art stadium. In 2016 the team made an official move to California, leaving the city of St. Louis broken-hearted, and filing a lawsuit against the NFL for the team’s relocation. This prompted local St. Louis lawyer, Terry Crouppen, to air a commercial against Kroenke during Super Bowl 50 with the slogan #slamstan.
Kroenke looks at Keenum after seeing the commercial. “He has a point,” says Keenum. “If you have any doubt, just look at the ratings.” In their inaugural season in LA, the highest rating for the new Los Angeles Rams was back in St. Louis.
Kroenke shrugs his shoulders and finds himself back in his Aspen bed.
After a moment’s silence, he thinks it was all a strange dream, but he sees another familiar figure: David Beckham. “David?” he says, “Is this about your house?”
“No, I took the $33 million you paid for our LA home last year and ran. This is about Arsenal.”
“Arsenal? But you played for Manchester United.”
“I know,” he sighs, “but this is America, and since we are going to be talking about soccer, it was either me or Ronaldo and since you bought my house, here I am.” He reaches out for his hand, and the two set out across the sea to England.
It is spring 2021, and a large mob is gathered outside of Arsenal’s Emirates Stadium. Kroenke became full owner of the historic English football club back in 2018 that plays in the top Premier League. As part of the highest league, they are subject to the highest viewership, but their place depends on their performance; unlike American sports, it can be relegated to the lower division, The Championship (remember Season 1 of Ted Lasso for non-soccer followers). This promotion/relegation is the heart of what makes football competition so fierce and exciting. However, if the team is demoted, their highest-earning revenue platform does too.
Kroenke observes as he and fellow wealthy club owners, such as John Henry (Boston Red Sox, and Liverpool), as well as the Malcolm family (Tampa Bay Buccaneers and Manchester United), devise a secret plan to form a non-promotion league that would ensure their perpetual money-making for their proposed European Super League.
“I know how this turns out,” Kroenke says.
In a lopsided beanie, Beckham shakes his head and insists he watches the protesters marching to “We want/We want Kroenke out.” Shortly after the concept launched, crowds gathered at Emirates Stadium demanding that Kroenke sell the club, and due to the huge public upheaval, the ESL notion was squashed only three days after it was announced. The owners were fined significant amounts for their insurrection.
“What were you thinking?” Beckham asked. “Do you even understand how our football clubs work? You can’t try and change the heart of a game you Americans don’t understand.”
Kroenke was about to counter him when he found himself back in his bed. It is still dark out, and maybe he will finally get some sleep but is roused by a figure once again. He groans. It’s old-time Avalanche, Claude Lemieux, his face is red, and his cheeks are puffed out in anger.
The infamous Lemieux pulls Kroenke from his bed and forces him to follow. It is the summer of 2022, the Colorado Avalanche have won the Stanley Cup, but the Colorado households are quiet. No fans are cheering; the TVs are dark.
“Why aren’t people watching?” Kroenke asks.
Lemieux finally speaks, “The Avalanche haven’t aired on local TV in Colorado for two years. The fans have forgotten about them. They can’t watch their home team play because of a lawsuit you started.”
“I only –” he started.
“Only wanted more money.” Lemieux finished. “You’ve taken hockey (and basketball) away from their fans. And for what?” He pulls at Kroenke’s silk pajamas and brings him within inches to his face and growls, “Would you even notice the extra money in your bank account?” His face resembles a ripe tomato. “You have billions without that Wal-Mart wife of yours. The least you can do is settle a dispute with a cable company.”
“But my wife owns the Avalanche,” Kroenke protests.
“Do you think the fans care actually owns the club? All they wanted was to watch hockey. There is a pandemic going on. In case you forgot, let the people have one simple joy.” Lemieux cocks his head as he remembers something. “Though you did give Trump’s inauguration campaign $1 million, so I guess we can’t expect much from you,” he snarls.
Kroenke recalls the look in his eyes from Lemieux’s days on the ice and relents, “Ok, ok,” he pleads. “I’ll do whatever you ask.”
Lemieux loosens his grip. “Make sure Altitude is back on Comcast,” and he drops Kroenke whimpering on the ground.
All of a sudden, Kroenke finds himself nestled in his warm bed, the dawn coming through the windows. At his movement, his wife awakens.
“What day is it?” Kroenke asks, dazed.
“Why, today is Christmas!” His wife informs him.
He puts his feet on the ground and rubs the sleep out of his eyes.
“Is everything ok?” She asks.
He shakes his head in disbelief and mumbles, “Just a few strange dreams,” and continues about his Christmas in his Aspen estate as if nothing has changed…
Epilogue:
Stan Kroenke and the NFL recently agreed to a $790 million settlement with the city of St. Louis. The exact amount Kroenke will be paying out of his pocket is unclear.
Despite protests, Kroenke has stated that he has no intention of selling Arsenal F.C.
After Comcast and Dish Network dropped Altitude Sports Network in August of 2019, there has still been no settlement between the station and the cable companies (fingers crossed one is coming soon).
Stan Kroenke’s net worth is an estimated $10.7 billion, and his wife is at $8.9 billion, yet the people earning minimum wage at their Wal-Mart’s or paying overpriced concessions at their stadiums can’t even watch an Avalanche game on TV.
However, despite ownership negligence, the Avalanche will continue their pursuit of the Cup after Christmas, and even if fans can’t watch them on regular cable, we will never forget about them.