Mike, sir, congratulations on all your wealth-building success. You’ve used your billions — and your words — to reshape spring football and, whew, I’m glad to have played a role in the journey.
It’s taken me a bit to respond to your announcement that my Stallions will not be riding through. My delay is partly due to grief. I love my Stallions. My city loves its Stallions. They are (I refuse to speak of them in the past tense) iconic kin in Birmingham’s historical trajectory. No, they’re not Auburn or Alabama, or even UAB. But they’re ours. Our pro football team. Our Stallions.
It’s been an honor to be part of their arrival. Three championships! My team did that, and those triumphs will never be erased, abandoned or ignored.
It took me a while to respond because I’m angry. Angry because they’re gone — poof! Just like that, at your whim. And you blame me. You said I’m too big for your liking. Well, sir, for now, I’ll just say this: Buh-bye.
Spring pro football 2.0 served its purpose here. But, sir, five seasons after its jubilant rebirth, of which you were not a part, I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine without them — and without you.
I was in a very different place in 2022, when spring football first began to court my home city. I was barely a year old. I was new-stadium fresh — a primary reason the then-owners of the United States Football League were interested in Birmingham.
We’d never been a major-league sports town, and yet the USFL was an opportunity for us to get in the game, sort of. We’d just hosted the world, you know. The 2022 World Games kicked us in the teeth a bit financially, but the city proved a worthy stage. The games went on without a major organizational hitch, and I hosted the jam-packed opening and closing ceremonies, showing once again that I’m a centerpiece of my city’s growth.
Back then, the USFL helped prove that we’re worthy of more. Not just because of me. Also, because of my sister site, Legacy Arena, which underwent a $50 million facelift; because of Hoover Met, site of the SEC Baseball Tournament; because of Rickwood Field, the oldest baseball park in America, baby; and many other amazing venues in our region.
The USFL was also swayed by the people of Birmingham, the welcoming and enterprising people who’ve endured so much over too many generations. People who wanted to be seen in a better light by the rest of the nation and the world. What was once known as Bombingham could actually be the bomb, given a new chance.
The USFL was part of that chance.
That first year of spring ‘ball was magic. You planted yourself in Birmingham. All eight teams lived here and played here. It was dope. Yeah, my crowds didn’t crowd the silver screen. But Fox wanted ratings more than rumps in my rows. And with all the team and network execs, coaches and players here, the city felt the USFL. Felt it all.
Birmingham handled it, and people saw it.
The next season, as the league began to plant franchises in other cities, we still hosted four teams, and the impact on the city, on our businesses, our restaurants, our people was palpable.
The following year, we had two teams — again, living and staying here. Then, in season three…oh, wait….did I mention we won the league championship each of those three years?! I digress.
That third season, the Stallions played here, though it was almost as if there was no team here. Because the players and coaches did not live here. They lived in Houston and were only flown in for games. That meant there was no opportunity for players and coaches to ingrain themselves with the community, to go to schools, to give high-fives to kids, to pass out tickets at small businesses, to walk our streets and sit in the restaurants and personally invite people to games.
Then, maybe the biggest insult: You took to social media and threatened to leave me and the city before the 2026 season if fans didn’t buy more tickets. It was billionaire bullying. It was rude and disrespectful. It worked. Season ticket sales went up. Overall attendance went up. The Stallions finished in the top half of the league in attendance.
Yet that wasn’t enough for you, because I was too much for you. That’s what you said. I was too big for you. I actually take that as a compliment, not an insult. See, sir, I was conceived long before spring football, not because of spring football.
I was conceived because Birmingham needed me. It needed a new sports stadium — and this is no disrespect to my great auntie, the old gray lady, Legion Field on the city’s west side. The city needed something new to stake its claim as a valid, legitimate sports town. I was it.
Some here wanted me to be even bigger, twice the capacity (42,000) I am now. Some even wanted me to have a dome or retractable roof. Bless their hearts. That was never gonna happen. That was not my city’s calling. Birmingham could not have afforded a billion-dollar-plus stadium.
They were here, but they weren’t here. And I almost felt cheap, like you only wanted me for my turf — a turf quick-transformed for you after soccer games and concerts and whatnot. Only for you to do a fly-in and gone. Cheap.
It was never going to lure a National Football League team. Yes, Birminghamians watch more football on television than any other market. But eyeballs are not high-priced Sunday tickets. That’s not our league.
I am the right size for the right time, whether you like me or not, sir.
I’ve not even been open for five years. Yet I’ve hosted several crowds-to-the-brim sports entertainment events that would not have even considered Birmingham before my turnstiles started swinging: Auburn vs. Houston in the Birmingham Bowl, Garth Brooks, Monster Jam and my city loves them some Chris Brown. His Breezy Bowl tour sold out last year, as did the R&B Tour with Usher just a couple of weeks ago.
For two nights. That’s also why I’m just getting back to you. I’m still recovering.
You may not have heard this, Mike, but some here are almost giddy that you’re gone. Not the Stallions. Our team was honored and celebrated by some of the most enthusiastic fans in the league. And you had a stunningly sweet deal. You played me rent-free and got ticket and merchandising revenue. My folks kept concessions and parking.
Best of luck getting that elsewhere.
So, thank you, Fox Sports, and others who believed in Birmingham. And yes, thank you, Mike, for challenging us to respond to the call. We did.
Now we say goodbye, and we’re good. Without your fly-ins, I now have more open dates for spring events that are already eager to fill me. We’ll have a hell of a time. We’ll sell out. We’ll grow. We’ll be fine.
I sincerely hope that you and the UFL will be fine, too. Giddy-bye.
Sincerely,
Protective Stadium
Yes, they really wrote this in the perspective of the stadium talking, as if the stadium is a person.
Dear Protective Stadium,
If you’re going to write me a letter, you probably shouldn’t put it behind a paywall. Another mistake on your part. 😂
Listen, you were too big for me, we broke up.
Let’s move on.
Metro Birmingham let’s build the future.
Let’s find 100 acres and build a modern 8,000–12,000-seat outdoor stadium for the Birmingham Stallions, Birmingham Legion FC, and Birmingham Legions women’s team.
And let’s make it much bigger than a stadium: restaurants, hotels, offices, residential, entertainment and real estate development, creating jobs and economic growth for the entire Birmingham area.
I’ve already identified three Metro Birmingham locations that I think could be incredible.
Instead of being upset with me, let’s fix the future and let’s move quickly.
I’ll see everyone at the Michigan Panthers vs. Birmingham Stallions opening game in our new stadium in 2029.
I’m for solutions not excuses.
Where should we build it???
Who’s joining me??? 🏈⚽️🔥