Time to tear down Wrigley

Here's a solution to the latest Wrigley Field crisis: Save the name, dump the dump.

Yes, I'm playing demolition derby again because the crusty, creaky old joint doesn't need to be renovated or renamed.

It needs to be replaced.

Ask yourself, what's the most storied ballpark in America? That's right, Yankee Stadium.

That historic place will be history soon. A new, modern, convenient replacement is being built in the South Bronx.

If they can do that to Yankee Stadium, why not to Wrigley Field?

New Tribune Company owner Sam Zell, a billionaire who plans to sell the Cubs by July, is considering selling the ballpark separately.

Meanwhile, Zell might first sell naming rights to the ballpark. Since we're talking about the Cubs, perhaps "Zanies Wrigleyville at Wrigley Field" would be most appropriate.

If the state of Illinois buys the ballpark, as has been proposed, we could be looking at something like "Wrigley Field at Little Lotto Park."

(How ironic would it be if the state bought the ballpark but thousands of fans couldn't get there because no money remained to fund mass transportation?)

OK, let's get real here. I'm the anti-purist who doesn't believe Wrigley Field is still the be-all, end-all of all baseball stadiums.

The place is a tenement not worth saving. Despite all the compromises made the past few years, with more planned, Wrigley doesn't generate the revenues a major-market facility should.

Yet a furor ensues when something as progressive as selling naming rights is mentioned. A headline at the AOL Sports Website blared, "Welcome to Wrigley Field at Portillo's Park."

As you can see, naming rights clearly are a hard Zell.

One AOL reader's response was, "Why is it the more money you have the dummer you get? Leave the Cubs and Wrigley alone."

Another's was more realistic: "No matter what changes to tradition are made, one will stand: The Cubs will still (bleep)."

Boy, talk about splashing graffiti all over the red bricks and green ivy.

Look, I was as fond of Wrigley Field as anyone during my first half-century of visits. But preserving it now is like performing cosmetic surgery on an octogenarian sex symbol.

Whenever Wrigley Field was mentioned the past decade, I thought of one-lane concourses, narrow seats and falling concrete.

The restrooms? It wouldn't be surprising if some of the foot scrapings I left on the floor in the 1960s remain to this day.

Folks, that's the ballpark traditionalists want to save from a new name. It's the one that puts the Cubs at a disadvantage compared to the facilities other players enjoy in their home stadiums.

Maybe the Cubs can win a World Series by continuing to spend big bucks on Japanese outfielders and perhaps a Mitchell Report infielder.

A better strategy would be for the next owner to devote some cash to building a new ballpark somewhere -- a Wrigley replica, if you want -- with modern conveniences.

After all, losers lived in Wrigley Field even when it was an adequate major-league facility. As you might have heard, 2008 is the anniversary of the Cubs' last world championship.

If the objective is winning rather than providing a neighborhood amusement park, the best way to get there is keep "Wrigley Field" but get rid of Wrigley Field.