Six years into the game, the Vancouver Volcanoes are still looking to break even.
Owner/coach Bryan Hunter has added more than he has subtracted since taking over the International Basketball League franchise in 2007, adding substance and flair while greatly improving the overall presentation.
A move to the O’Connell Sports Complex at Clark College from Mountain View High School has helped, as has Hunter’s effort to pump up and promote the product he is presenting to the regional community.
Where Volcanoes games were once just fast-paced, high-scoring, no-defense basketball contests that provided hardwood junkies with a free outlet as the National Basketball Association entered playoff mode, Hunter has put as much emphasis on Vancouver’s dance squad and in-game presentations as he has the team itself.
PROFILE
Who: Bryan Hunter
What: Vancouver Volcanoes owner/coach
Age: 34
Resides: Castle Rock
On the Volcanoes: “It’s an expensive hobby for me.”
On coaching: “I still have a lot to learn. I’m not there yet. But I’ve learned quite a bit, and I’ve read multiple books.”
“He improved all facets of it immediately,” said IBL commissioner Mikal Duilio, who sold the Volcanoes to Hunter three years ago for an estimated $75,000.
Hunter’s improvements have also drawn the eye of Kim Capeloto, chief executive officer of the Greater Vancouver Chamber of Commerce.
While attendance for Volcanoes home games often falls between 300-500, Capeloto said Vancouver’s lone minor-league basketball franchise is a welcome addition to the region. And though he acknowledged that the Volcanoes’ economic impact is minimal, Capeloto praised the family-friendly atmosphere Hunter has cultivated, as well as the team’s effort to actively support the community.
“To be able to take your husband or wife or children to a game and know the environment is positive is a great thing,” Capeloto said. “And it’s extremely reasonable in terms of money. You don’t have to spend $75 a head just to get in the door.”
Hunter acknowledges, though, that the enhanced facade has limitations.
He has been unable to turn a profit on the Volcanoes, and is considering opening the team up to additional ownership in the future.
Meanwhile, Vancouver’s players are not paid, and Hunter referred to the team as being “non profit.” Each Volcano receives an estimated $15-20 as reimbursement for expenses for each event — defined as a game or practice — they attend.
Factor in that Hunter — who took over as Vancouver’s interim coach last season before officially assuming the head coach position this year — has no previous coaching experience at any level of the game, and the Volcanoes are in many ways symbolic of a league that falls somewhere between the murky worlds of amateur and semi-professional basketball.
“I still have a lot to learn. I’m not there yet,” said Hunter, 34, a Castle Rock resident. “But I’ve learned quite a bit, and I’ve read multiple books. Some from (former NBA coaches) Phil Jackson and Chuck Daly. I’ve been trying to self-teach myself.”
Consistency is progress
Hunter’s honesty was topped by the up-front candidness displayed by Duilio.
Where it would likely take several days to speak with commissioners of professional sports leagues, such as the NBA, Duilio returned a phone message in less than one minute.
The owner of the Central Oregon Hotshots founded the IBL in 2005. But six years of non-stop work, expansion and contraction have left Duilio confronting the stark reality his league faces.
As points of pride, Duilio highlighted the IBL’s consistently scheduled and played games, as well as an improved talent level that now sees former NBA players filling out some rosters. To Duilio, the IBL is the highest form of minor-league basketball other than the NBA Development League, and easily tops competitors such as the American Basketball Association and the World Basketball Association.
“The talent is higher than it’s ever been,” said Duilio, who resides in Beaverton. “Every single year it’s increased.”
But while improved competition and high-scoring contests are positive trademarks of the IBL, the league is also at a standstill. Numerous teams throughout United States have started up only to fade out fast — the Salem Stampede relocated to the National Athletic Basketball League; the Portland Chinooks disbanded before evolving into the Oregon Waves — and the IBL is down to just 12 U.S.-based teams in its 15-member league. In addition, Duilio acknowledged that a couple IBL teams are “dogs,” who only exist to fill out scheduling holes.
“On one hand, you could say we’re the best of a bad industry,” Duilio said.
Duilio stated that the IBL’s stability behind the scenes, minimal travel and start-up costs, and April-June schedule are all attributes that make the organization ideal for basketball players looking to stay in shape and keep their hopes of one day playing in the NBA alive.
But while a decision to halt expansion has in some ways helped solidify the league, the unpredictable fluctuation of attendance and overall fan interest is still a major issue.
“It’s really kind of a confusing thing to figure out,” Duilio said.
Even the supposed highlights of the league provide more questions than answers. Cleveland Cavaliers forward Jamario Moon, who played in a staggering number of leagues and on a multitude of teams before reaching the NBA, is often linked to the Gary Steelheads, a former IBL franchise. But Duilio said he is “99.9 percent certain” Moon never played in an IBL game, and instead was on the Steelheads when the team was in another league.
To Duilio, the IBL’s biggest sign of evolution is the simple fact that the organization no longer has any “weird teams” or unstable owners. And he joked that while every person with a love of sports and a small amount of disposable income stupidly dreams of one day starting a new athletic franchise — himself included — the reality of running a successful league can quickly produce a cold reality.
“I’m not sure why everybody makes that jump. They think there’s something in it,” Duilio said. “But it’s very hard. The expenses are immense, especially if you do it the right way — which we do.”
TV is everything
Hunter and Duilio agreed that the best hope for the Volcanoes — and the future of the IBL — rests in the hands of the television gods.
Hunter employs a four-person camera crew to film Vancouver’s games in high-definition video. Players then use the footage as a recruiting tool, mailing highlight reels to prospective employers fleshing out rosters in the ever-changing world of international professional basketball.
But Hunter is not just offering a helping hand to the Volcanoes — he is investing in the IBL’s longevity.
Sounding every bit like a modern business man — Hunter referred to his profession as an entrepreneur in “internet marketing,” and is the owner of credityes.com — Vancouver’s coach laid out a clear vision of how the IBL can reach the next level. And every step leading to a more-visible platform is based upon the foundation of television.
Hunter plans to soon present the Volcanoes’ game film to regional TV networks, such as Comcast Sports Northwest and Fox Sports Northwest, with the idea that one of the stations will begin broadcasting Vancouver’s games.
“We’re hoping that could potentially be an additional revenue stream,” Hunter said. “From the added visibility of sponsors, or potentially advertising revenue driven from the stations.”
Hunter’s HD investment caught the eye of Duilio, who said the IBL has two options for survival and possible expansion: increased exposure through TV, or owners wealthy enough to stay in the game.
As a result, Duilio is presenting the Volcanoes and the Los Angeles Lightning — the pride of the IBL, whose league-leading 12-2 record is supported by seven former NBA players — with their 2011 schedule 10 months in advance.
To Duilio, investing “energy” is the best the IBL can do. The organization is not able to provide financial backing or promotional support. But by giving Vancouver and L.A. two months’ worth of locked-in games nearly a year ahead of time, the hope is that the league’s only two TV-ready teams can convert the concrete information into increased attention, sponsorship and revenue.
“(Hunter) has been given carte blanche. We’re saying, ‘Because you’re investing in television … we want to support you.’ ” Duilio said.
He added: “This gives teams a chance to fill their gym. So that when they fill it, it comes out looking really nice.”
Duilio said an initial viewing of Hunter’s TV production was promising. But the IBL commissioner was also fully aware of the challenges inherent in presenting a legitimate sporting event on television. Leading the dial: filming a game inside a well-lit venue with a large crowd filling the stands.
For the NBA or college basketball, the issue is rarely a problem and is often taken for granted. For the IBL, it can often be a serious obstacle.
“It would be nice to get it on national TV to give it that little extra boost,” Duilio said. “But it’s hard to do.”
While Hunter focuses his immediate sights on the trampoline effect of television, he also has other expansion-related projects in mind. Hunter recently met with Vancouver Mayor Tim Leavitt to discuss building a 3,000-7,000 seat arena within Clark County that would become the Volcanoes’ home court, while also possibly hosting two other indoor-based sports franchises. Dates reserved for music concerts and performing-arts events would help fill the venue, and Hunter envisions a high school basketball game of the week being a big local draw.
A committee is expected to be formed this summer to move the project forward.
“I think it’s a great idea,” Leavitt said. “What I told Bryan is that he’s got to get a business plan put together that he can start floating around that shows a new stadium can be sustainable.”
While Hunter dreams big, the IBL is still standing. And despite struggling to turn a profit, Hunter is enjoying what he referred to as a dream-like opportunity — serving as coach and owner of a Volcanoes team that is still trying to find a home in the community it represents.
“It’s an expensive hobby for me,” Hunter said.
