The Miami Marlins owner is an ode to everything that’s distasteful about US sports. He is the least palatable host for baseball’s showcase

For most owners in Major League Baseball, hosting the All-Star festivities this week would be a source of immense pride and a chance to show off their organization and city to a watching nation.

But for the Miami Marlins owner, Jeffrey Loria, the mid-season showcase of baseball’s best talent is little more than a lucrative open house as he looks to secure a billion dollar profit on his $158.2m purchase of the team in 2002. Many in the city will see any sale as a merciful ending to his tenure in Miami.

Thanks to the team’s ownership, the Marlins have become a byword for sporting dysfunction and, with the eyes of the baseball world upon it, the franchise is again in a state of flux. Perennial underachievement on the field is joined at the hip to unpalatable drama off it. However, should Loria succeed in selling the club at his $1.2bn valuation, it will have been made possible with the help of the public: the Marlins paid just $125m towards the $634m cost of building the stadium, the rest was financed with public money.

Of course, as is common in US sports, those who bankrolled the arena will not see a penny from Loria’s sale. The Oakland Raiders forthcoming move to Nevada is predicated on public stadium funding. San Diego lost its NFL team over a refusal to fund a stadium. Owners have cities at their mercy, pay up or risk losing their team.

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Miami rejoiced when Loria, who was not entirely transparent about the team’s earnings to help secure the investment (the club claimed it would not survive without public funding, despite being profitable) would be selling up. But things are suddenly looking less certain. A Derek Jeter-led group has reportedly lost a major investor, while a $1.1bn offer from Quogue Capital founder Wayne Rothbaum (reportedly backed by former state governor Jeb Bush and Mitt’s son Tagg Romney) was deemed $100m shy of Loria’s asking price. Now it’s questionable whether a sale is really that close at all.

On the field, it’s a familiar tale. After Sunday’s games, the Marlins are 10.5 games behind NL East leaders Washington. Barring a miraculous turnaround, the team will miss the play-offs for the 14th season in a row. It’s an inauspicious mark bested only by the Seattle Mariners, who last reached the post-season in 2001.

The slim chance of a post-All-Star revival could be further lessened by a rumoured mid-season fire sale. USA Today reports any Marlin on a multi-year contract is available. Shortstop Adeiny Hechavarria was the first domino to fall, traded to the Tampa Bay Rays two weeks ago, for a pair of prospects.

Loria has previous here. He last cleaned house in 2012, immediately following Marlins Park’s inaugural season. Part of his sales pitch in securing funding was a promise to build a competitive team, but he dumped every expensive contract in a mega-trade with the Toronto Blue Jays after one year. Promise broken. He’d done so previously in 2005, shifting the remainder of the 2003 World Series winning team, including Mike Lowell, Josh Beckett and Juan Pierre. In 2007 he presided over the trade of the brilliant Miguel Cabrera to Detroit for little more than a hill of beans (Cabrera would go on to make the World Series with the Tigers in 2012). As far as terrible trades go, it’s not quite Babe Ruth to the Yankees, but it’s in the ballpark.

Since the 2012 rebrand from the two-time World Series-winning Florida Marlins, the team is yet to enjoy a winning season. So it’s little surprise tickets for both the All-Star Game and Monday’s Home Run Derby, are still readily available at MLB.com for the low, low price of $280. On the secondary market, you can snag one for half that. It’s a sign that, barring an audience of around 20,000 diehards, there’s apathy for baseball in Miami. The team ranks 28th in attendance (worst in the NL), compared with a more respectable 18th during Marlins Park’s inaugural season.

The stadium, although an acquired taste with its dome roof and gaudy home run sculpture, is a nice place to watch baseball, but the Loria factor cannot be overstated. He has killed enthusiasm for this franchise and bred outright resentment among locals. Few feel good about giving him their money. And who can blame them?

Meanwhile, the NFL’s Miami Dolphins are on the up again. Team owner Stephen Ross paid for stadium upgrades himself and the Super Bowl is returning to Miami in 2020. The NBA’s Miami Heat are adored, and even second tier FC Miami are making waves, eliminating MLS’s Orlando and Atlanta en route to the US Open Cup quarter-finals. The team won the NASL Spring Championship with the league’s second highest average attendance.

In the competition for sports fans’ dollars, a Marlins game can be a tough sell.

And this is before David Beckham’s MLS team enters the fray. The former England skipper can thank Loria for the absolute nightmare of securing a stadium site, despite Beckham’s investors fronting every last cent.

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Off the field, the loss of pitching ace Jose Fernandez to a boating accident last September is still felt deeply, robbing the franchise of whatever heart it had left. The 24-year-old Cuban exile, who arrived in the US by boat, embodied Miami’s wider story. He may well have taken centre stage on Tuesday night.

While Loria cannot be held responsible for the Fernandez tragedy, he is tied up in the future of slugger Giancarlo Stanton. The defending Home Run Derby champ will represent hometown fans this week, aiming to top last year’s record setting mark of 61. He is a franchise player winning teams are built around, but thanks to Loria it’s debatable whether Stanton and his back-loaded $325m 13-year contract will be around for much longer.

The All-Star festivities are all about showcasing the best Major League Baseball has to offer, even if most of the fun is focused on the spectacle of watching elite hitters smash softball pitches 500-feet into the stands. The city’s enduring baseball fans will be hoping the showcase, is a farewell party for a grossly unfit owner, wholly undeserving of the game’s celebratory spotlight.