An Open Letter to Adam Silver: Portland Did Its Part. Now Help Fix Dundon’s Mess.
Hi Adam,
Parasocial relationships are weird, so I’ll just talk to you like a person, not a distant power broker.
I grew up in the Portland area loving the Trail Blazers. Tom Dundon’s ownership group is driving a wedge between our city and our team, and I’m asking you to help fix it.
This letter draws on the reporting linked below, especially Jason Quick’s “Tom Dundon’s Blazers can’t avoid drama. Instead, it’s all about Dundon.” If you can, subscribe to The Athletic and read it there.
Here’s the Dundon era so far, from a fan’s seat.
A pattern, not a misstep
After four lost seasons, a season that opened with a 6 a.m. FBI raid still gave us something to cheer about. A young core, an interim coach thrown to the fire, a Play-In win, the franchise's first playoff trip since 2021. Then Dundon got the keys, and every chapter became a story about his wallet:
During the Play-In, team support staff were made to check out of their Phoenix hotel early to avoid late fees.
For the playoff series in San Antonio, the team left its two-way players at home.
Interim coach Tiago Splitter was lowballed and left for Chicago, after ownership openly interviewed his replacement mid-season.
New head coach Micah Nori was a smart hire, then handed a one-year deal reportedly among the league's lowest salaries. Thank you, JB Bickerstaff, for calling it out.
Roughly 70 employees were laid off, and the broadcast booth was gutted, including Michael Holton, Neil Everett, Tom Haberstroh and our own Jamie Hudson.
Kevin Calabro, the TV voice since 2016, left after an offer he called "subprime." He now calls Timberwolves games.
Then the team named 29-year-old Braiden Bell its new TV voice and fired him within hours, after a local reporter found offensive social media posts he wrote at 15. The team's own statement admitted, "We did not meet our own bar."
Nobody is defending those posts. But when a local TV station out-vets your front office in one afternoon, that's what hollowing out your staff, or running on hubris, gets you.
Even the ownership group's promises about the broadcast didn't last the week. On Monday, team president Dewayne Hankins promised fans no drop in broadcast quality. By Thursday, the team had announced Bell at noon, promoted a Fan Fest meet-and-greet, and pulled it all by evening. Brooke Olzendam now carries every studio segment alone, and radio voice Travis Demers will call road games off a monitor at reduced pay. It's the Carolina playbook, where Dundon scrapped the Hurricanes' radio call for a TV simulcast. All this before an Oct. 21 opener with Ja Morant's Portland debut and Damian Lillard's return, the kind of night this franchise used to staff like it mattered.
The "first-class" fallacy
The state, city and county have agreed in principle to put $586 million in public money into renovating the Moda Center. Dundon pitched a simple trade: public funds for a 20-year lease. Then came the add-ons: tax breaks, no rent, and an endless list of other assurances. Team reps are even trashing Portland’s business climate, as if Dundon were a bizarro capitalist Robin Hood teaching other businesses to squeeze a few more drops of blood out of our city.
Now the talks are stuck on a "first-class standard" clause in the team's bridge agreement, which requires the Blazers to keep the city-owned building in top shape. It’s entirely possible I’m being obtuse and there is some reason this is an anchor issue for Dundon. If that’s the case, an articulation of said reason would be nice for the masses to understand. Dundon has said he won't negotiate until that clause, and the threat of litigation attached to it, are removed.
Here's the problem. Under Section 10.2 of the lease, the city has already agreed not to enforce that obligation. Mayor Keith Wilson has said publicly that the city has no legal path to sue the team over it. The clause only gains teeth in one scenario: the team leaves.
At media day, Hankins called the clause significant, acknowledged the mayor's position, then added, "unless we move, right?" Which was a very odd admission given the exchange.
I've negotiated contracts in Silicon Valley adtech. A clause that only triggers under a condition you swear will never happen costs you nothing. You only fight that hard to kill it if you're keeping that condition on the table. You can't claim total commitment to Portland while insisting the one clause that matters only if you leave has to go.
Squeezing a city that's still getting back up
Portland is still climbing out of the pandemic. Downtown has spent years fighting empty storefronts, lost foot traffic and a reputation it didn't fully earn. Game nights at the Moda Center are one of the few things that reliably fill the trains, the bars and the restaurants on that side of the river.
Finding $586 million in public money in today's Oregon economy is a monumental lift. Local leaders staked their political futures on it anyway. Ownership’s response: ask for more, slow the talks, and treat a good-faith partner like an adversary. The relocation threat is hollow. Moving is expensive, and Quick’s reporting found nowhere obvious to go. But a bluff doesn't have to be credible to do damage. It just has to scare a city that can't afford to lose its anchor tenant. That's not an owner who sees a community. That's an owner who sees a line item.
What I'm asking the league to do
Shortly after the sale, a team employee told Quick that Dundon didn't see himself as buying the Portland Trail Blazers. He saw himself buying one-thirtieth of the NBA. If that's true, then this is your business too. Portland is the league's only foothold in the Pacific Northwest since the SuperSonics left Seattle in 2008. Expansion may finally right that wrong in Seattle. Let’s not repeat it in Portland.
Three asks:
Take relocation off the table, publicly. The Board of Governors has to approve any move. Say plainly that the league will not entertain one while a good-faith public deal is on the table. That single sentence drains the leverage out of the "first-class" standoff. No new owner should walk in and destabilize a franchise in its 57th season.
Put the league's weight behind closing the Moda Center lease. Public money of this size should buy a long-term commitment with standard non-relocation protections. Push both sides to the table and keep them there.
Have the difficult conversation only an owner's peers can have. Owning a franchise comes with civic obligations. Remind this ownership group that the brand they bought, and the 1/30th they value, was built by the fans they are alienating.
Rip City did its part
Portland has been loyal through bad seasons, bad breaks and a pandemic that hit this city harder than most. It just offered more than half a billion dollars to keep this team home. That is the definition of a partner. This city sold out 814 straight games from 1977 to 1995, then the longest streak in American pro sports. Rip City doesn't need a lecture on commitment. We aren't asking for a savior or a superteam. We're asking for an owner who acts like he wants to be here, and for a league that makes sure he does. Let us talk about Deni Avdija, Donovan Clingan and Damian Lillard again, instead of hotel late fees and lease clauses.
Commissioner, the Trail Blazers belong in Portland like the Knicks belong in New York. Please make sure everyone running this league understands that.
Respectfully,
Dave Myers
Beaverton-raised, Blazers podcaster, Rip City for life
Comments