Punting Is for Pansies

As the quarter unfolds, Prochnow, the Brigade's president, stands on the turf in the back of the end zone. Wearing a conservative suit, he's flanked by two bored-looking women in Hooters outfits. An air horn behind him wails every time Dallas scores. "Come on!" Prochnow begs after a referee calls a personal foul on a Brigade player. On the next play, the Dallas quarterback rushes for a touchdown.

Prochnow grew up in Atlanta. In college, he played soccer and got involved in politics. He interned in the U.S. Senate office of Mack Mattingly, a Georgia Republican. After graduation, he wound up in Colorado, where he served as an assistant in the state House Appropriations Committee. He liked political work but not political pay, so he got a law degree at the University of Denver.

Prochnow moved to Kansas City in 1997 to take a job at the firm of Lathrop & Gage, where he served as general counsel to the American Teleservices Association. The group represented businesses operating the kind of call centers that interrupt supper with unwanted sales pitches. "It was a group that obviously came under a lot of fire at the time," Prochnow tells the Pitch. "Most of that was a misunderstanding." Prochnow describes his work as "an educational process, making sure that when the state and federal governments were drafting laws to rein in people that were a problem, that they were only going after the people who were the problem and not hindering legitimate businesses that people use every day."

Just the same, the telemarketing association's opposition to the do-not-call registry was far from popular. As it became clear that the law would pass, Prochnow argued that consumers should pay to sign up for the registry. Now, he admits that the list — a free service utilized by tens of millions of thankful Americans — has "worked pretty well," though he points out that people still find frustration with phone calls from charities and political campaigns, which are exempt from the law.

In 2003, Prochnow started a sports-management business called Golden Peak. He and his partner, Reggie Harris, represent about 30 clients, including Deion Sanders and Olympic gold-medalist Amy Van Dyken. When one of his NFL clients was considering retirement, Prochnow looked into buying an arena team on his behalf. The player ended up staying in the NFL for another season, but the arena league left an impression on Prochnow. "On the second or third day, we all kind of looked at each other and went, 'Why in the world do we not have a team here?' All the things that this league speaks to, it's all the things that we kind of think of in terms of Kansas City," he says.

Stories about arena football successes in other cities reminded Prochnow of the tales he had heard about the Kansas City Royals in the 1970s and '80s. "Not just that they were a winning baseball team, but the players lived here, and they were a part of the community, and they were a visible part of the community," he says. "You saw them out. You could approach them. They felt like they were part of the Royals organization from a fan's standpoint and that they helped contribute to the team's success, both on and off the field. That's exactly what the AFL is built to be in every market."

Prochnow announced his intention to pursue a team in 2004, shortly before voters in Kansas City approved a plan to build the new downtown Sprint Center arena. He led an investor group that paid the AFL an expansion fee of $18 million.

Last August, The Kansas City Star reported that the league and Prochnow didn't want to begin play at Kemper Arena without an understanding that the team would move into the Sprint Center when it opens. But AEG, the management company that runs the new arena in partnership with the city, appeared to put little value on having an arena football team. Negotiations to get the Brigade into the Sprint Center have gone nowhere. Prochnow downplays the appearance of contentiousness. Just another "misunderstanding," he says. Prochnow says the two sides are close, but significant issues remain.

Hurricane Katrina changed everything. The damage to New Orleans persuaded AFL officials to expand into Kansas City for the 2006 season. In early October, the league sent 13 former VooDoo players to Kansas City. But with less than four months remaining before the start of the season, the organization lacked virtually everything else.