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V O L . X X X I I N O. I V F E B R UA R Y 2 3 , 2 0 2 6 12 S P O R T S / T O U R I S M / R E C R E AT I O N O ut of season and away from the ballpark, Slugger the Sea Dog skids across the ice for a double-mascot hug with orange- beaked Beacon the Puffin on Minor League Sports Night at Portland's Cross Insurance Arena. "Are you ready for hockey?" blares the baritone voice over the public-address system. e Maine Mariners most defi- nitely were, pummeling Québec's Trois- Rivières Lions in a 7-1 blowout marked by fisticuffs and flying pucks. e home team scored two goals in the first period garbed in Portland Sea Dogs jerseys, netted two more in the next period branded in Maine — and Boston — Celtics green and white, and three in the final period sporting hearts on their sleeves in homage to the Hearts of Pine soccer squad. A four-way lovefest under one roof ? Unthinkable perhaps in places like Chicago and New York with bit- ter cross-town rivalries but par for the course in Portland. Home to pro men's baseball, hockey, basketball and soccer teams — and a women's pre- professional team in the works for next year — this 70,000-population city is still basking in the glow of being named 2024's best minor-league sports mar- ket out of 194 locales ranked by Sports Business Journal. e accolade reinforced what locals have long known in a state many refer to as one big village. Fan support is infused in every chant of "Let's go … Sea Dogs!" at Hadlock Field on a breezy summer night no matter what the score; every roar from the stands at a Maine Celtics game to win a boxed pizza sprint-delivered by green-clawed mascot Crusher; every "M-A-I-N-E!" heating up the Cross Insurance Arena and high-pitched "Woo … Woo!" after the Mariners score a goal and the lights flick off; and every thump of the drums in Fitzpatrick Stadium's pink smoke- infused superfan zone during a Hearts soccer match. "In a state without major-league franchises, minor league teams carry outsized symbolic value, representing Maine on a regional and national stage," says Aimee Vlachos, a University of New England business professor who teaches a class in sports governance. "at sense of ownership creates strong loyalty even when teams change leagues or levels." But running a minor-league outfit in a small market like Portland is no slam dunk. All four teams are year-round businesses with seasonal demands and pressure to win games and champion- ships. ey are also chasing a limited number of sponsors in a sparsely popu- lated state, juggling ticket pricing with rising costs, developing players and staff for bigger stages — and salaries — and selling branded merchandise. Way more entertainment-driven than the majors but with a fraction of the budgets, staff and revenue, all are making the most of cramped, dated leased facilities with big plays in a small market. 'Entertainment first, baseball second' Bundled up in hats, scarves and ear- muffs, 5,026 baseball fans cheered on the Portland Sea Dogs at last April's home opener against the New Hampshire Fisher Cats. Frank Sinatra's "Jingle Bells" set the Christmas-in-spring mood for a 10-inning walk-off victory. Opening night's snow gave way to a rainy spring that led to seven cancellations out of 69 scheduled home games. Game day takes in a range of athletes and fans of all ages. F O C U S What it takes to run a pro sports team in America's top-rated minor-league city B y R e n e e C o r d e s Big plays in a small market P H O T O S / J I M N E U G E R

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