In the vibrant month of September, amid the bustling hubbub of Climate Week NYC—the annual gathering orchestrated under the auspices of the United Nations—North American professional sports leagues had an extraordinary opportunity. They could have showcased their unwavering dedication to environmental stewardship, presenting a united front in the fight against climate change. However, much to the chagrin of eco-enthusiasts and fans alike, they instead whiffed their chance to deliver a powerful message.
Barely three months prior, U.N. Secretary-General António Guterres had unleashed a blistering critique aimed squarely at rogue coal, oil, and gas companies—labeling them the “godfathers of climate chaos.” His clarion call demanded a global ban on fossil fuel advertising, urging advertising agencies to shun those clamoring for their endorsement. Yet, it seems this crucial memo fell onto deaf ears during the so-called “Major League Greening” panel discussion where representatives from the realms of baseball (MLB), basketball (NBA), and hockey stood before the audience. While they waxed lyrical about their long-term aspirations to mitigate their carbon footprints—progressing since the 2012 days of only whispering about energy and resource conservation—absolutely nothing was said regarding the severance of their lucrative ties with the very corporations driving the climate crisis.
A disconcerting recent analysis by UCLA’s Emmett Institute on Climate Change and the Environment rattled the foundations of these leagues, revealing a staggering reality: collectively, they are entangled in over 60 sponsorship deals with a cadre of fossil fuel giants and utility companies. The impact of these partnerships is palpable—barely visible logos on uniforms, ostentatious billboards flaunting brand dominance at arenas, and even naming rights for stadiums, granted on the altar of financial sacrifice.
Among the insidious players, eight of the surveyed corporations—Chevron, Entergy, ExxonMobil, Marathon Petroleum, NextEra Energy, NRG Energy, Phillips 66, and Xcel Energy—occupy desolate positions in the hierarchy of U.S. carbon polluters. These titans, with a history marred by climate-related lawsuits initiated by state and local governments, have been implicated in obfuscating the truth while undermining the urgent transition toward sustainable energy. Notably, ExxonMobil finds itself ensnared in all 39 such legal battles, while compatriots like Chevron and Phillips 66 have become frequent flyers in the courtroom, cited in dozens of cases.
The financial behemoths backing these fossil fuel endeavors—like JPMorgan Chase and Bank of America—have seamlessly woven themselves into the fabric of professional sports sponsorships. The allure of fiscal benefits drives them, but beneath the surface lies a darker intent: to foster goodwill and enhance a tarnished reputation through what critics deride as “sportswashing”—a public relations strategy masquerading benevolence while wreaking havoc on the planet.
The ambiance was tense, especially among the fans of the competing baseball teams in this year’s National League Championship Series, who vocally called into question the ethics of such affiliations but found their pleas, as of yet, fall on indifferent ears. In a noteworthy rallying cry, environmental champions united with New York City Public Advocate Jumaane Williams, beseeching the Mets to reconsider the naming of Citi Field—Citibank’s parent company has funneled a staggering $396 billion into fossil fuel projects since the signing of the Paris Agreement. Williams’ heartfelt call echoed: “Citi doesn’t represent the values of Mets fans or NYC. If they refuse to end their toxic relationship with fossil fuels, the Mets should end their partnership with Citi.”
As the beat goes on, a coalition of over 80 public interest groups has vehemently urged the Los Angeles Dodgers to disentangle themselves from Phillips 66, whose ties to the infamous Union 76 gas stations are not easily forgotten. An open letter decried the insidious partnership that sullies the Dodgers’ reputation, highlighting how the fossil fuel industry crafts a skewed narrative that dismisses the climate crisis as a mere inconvenience.
In sharp contrast, while the leagues seem entrenched in their commercial pursuits, worldwide advertising and PR agencies have begun to heed Guterres’s clarion call, with more than a thousand entities committing to disengage from fossil fuel clients. If these leagues genuinely aimed at a sustainable future, they would do well to follow suit—chopping ties with the very architects of environmental devastation and the banking giants that empower them. The question lingers: will these leagues pivot from their course, or remain steadfast in the shadow of “climate chaos”?
