Roy Mlakar of the Ottawa Senators. (Photo by Mark Holleron for the OBJ)

The Ottawa Senators' Roy Mlakar, OBJ's CEO of the Year, is missing one award from his trophy case

Standing at the edge of his glass viewing box overlooking the Scotiabank Place ice surface, Roy Mlakar squints as he peers down at a clutch of hockey players shooting the puck around the glazed surface.

"I can't identify them without their numbers," the Ottawa Senators president and CEO mutters, watching the trio skate in their black outfits. He pauses. "Oh, that's Spezz. (Ottawa Senators centre Jason) Spezza. I can tell from the way he skates."

Mr. Mlakar leans far over the railing, grinning.

"Get off the ice!" he bellows. "You're costing me money!"

But the joking demeanour of Mr. Mlakar belies the dozen years of stone-cold business decisions he's made to keep the Senators alive and kicking in Ottawa.

Under his tenure, the local sports institution survived bankruptcy protection in 2002, a bitter salary negotiation with then-team captain Alexei Yashin in 1999, and low revenues as the team inhabited the league's basement during the early '90s.

But with the team's high revenues and bursting attendance these days, Mr. Mlakar can only complain about the single honour left off the team's record: a Stanley Cup victory.

Punching tickets

But now, presiding over a team with 11 straight playoff appearances under its belt, Mr. Mlakar says his approach remains the same as ever: to sell tickets, one at a time.

He focused on this in a somewhat less happy time, when the young Senators franchise moved into Scotiabank Place – then called the Palladium – in 1996, the same year he joined the club.

"It's always a problem when you have a last-place team and you move to a place where there's nothing but cows and hay," he says of the team's relocation from the centrally located Civic Centre to a large, NHL-style arena on the outskirts of Kanata.

But their bottom-dweller status wouldn't last for long. Brian Burke, general manager of the Anaheim Ducks, says Mr. Mlakar's gift for making connections was a boon to the Senators during their startup years. "He's networked very shrewdly; he's got executives all around the league," Mr. Burke says. "He's a progressive guy."

Steve Violetta – currently senior vice-president of business affairs with the Detroit Red Wings, and a Senators executive VP from 1996 to 2002 – says Mr. Mlakar was a pioneer in sealing business sponsorships to pull executive crowds into the then-Palladium.

"Roy, having been around the game for so long, realized the synergy that exists between sponsorships and tickets and being able to tie the sponsors into moving the tickets back then," he explains.

General Motors, for instance, soon underwrote the cost for an executive seat section. In off times, Mr. Mlakar opened the Palladium for business, bringing in executive meetings, Mr. Violetta says – which, complete with catered lunches, earned more revenue for the nascent franchise.

But Mr. Mlakar recalls that each time he stepped onto the Rideau Canal, a sea of red and blue, in the form of dozens of Montreal Canadiens and Toronto Maple Leafs jerseys, confronted him.

"That (established) fan base isn't going to change. So, you don't market yourself to the 50-year-old," Mr. Mlakar says.

Rather, he went to work on the younger generation. He branded the Coca-Cola family section, marketed to families with youngsters, allowing him to sell the section's seats for less than $20 each. Mr. Mlakar also sent Senators players out skating on the canal – free tickets in hand – to give away to kids wearing Senators jerseys.

"You'll never forget that Radek Bonk gave you tickets," he says of the approach, which he adds went a long way to boosting attendance to third in the league by last season.

Pizza and play-by-plays

Mr. Mlakar actually began his hockey career as a ticket seller in the mid-1960s – for the Cleveland Barons, an American Hockey League (AHL) team that operated from 1937 to 1973.

But back then, he says he recalls hardly any young fans sitting in the stands.

So he worked to gain an audience with Nick Mileti, then the Barons general manager, and cooked up a scheme to energize the Barons' fan base.

"He asked me, 'Who are you?' and I told him. I said, 'You give me 1,000 tickets on consignment.' Then I got the local school board to give me buses," he says. "I did a deal with Buddy's Pizza and also the local beer establishment."

There were 17 senior high schools and colleges in the area, Mr. Mlakar says. He made the rounds with beer and pizza in hand, talking to the students, hyping the next Barons game.

"I kept going back for more tickets," he says with a laugh. The tally ended up being 2,200 sold. "(Mr. Mileti) couldn't believe it. These kids had no motivation to go before."

From hawking tickets, Mr. Mlakar became a commentator for the NBA's Cleveland Cavaliers. He did play-by-play and also collected statistics.

It was a natural jump from there, he says, to marketing for the Cleveland Indians baseball team and then, in 1973, public relations for the AHL's Providence Reds in Rhode Island.

After being promoted to assistant general manager of the Reds, he left New England to join the New Haven Nighthawks in Minnesota. His work there earned him the Hendy Award, given annually to the AHL's top executive.

Then the Los Angeles Kings – the NHL affiliate of New Haven – came calling in 1988, in a bid to reverse their bad luck. At the time, few knew just how much their fortunes would change.

Number 99

The Kings were hardly crown champions of the NHL in the late '80s.

They struggled consistently to get past the first round of the playoffs, battered by either the Calgary Flames or the powerful Edmonton Oilers each time.

But shortly after Mr. Mlakar arrived on the West Coast, coin collector and Kings president Bruce McNall called him to meet in a local restaurant. "He said, 'I think I'm going to get Peter (Pocklington) to give us Wayne Gretzky," Mr. Mlakar says. Mr. Pocklington was owner of the Edmonton Oilers at the time, who won five Stanley Cups in seven years on the strength of the legendary centre.

"I didn't believe (Mr. McNall) at first," Mr. Mlakar adds. "It took a good five minutes for him to tell me his scheme."

Rumours of financial trouble had dogged Mr. Pocklington, prompting him to consider selling the star player. The troubled Kings had to raise cash quickly – they figured they needed anywhere from $5 million to $8 million to make the scheme work, no small sum in 1988.

Mr. Mlakar, however, figured attendance figures would skyrocket with a living NHL legend patrolling the King's arena, the Great Western Forum. "I drew up a flow chart showing the increased revenues," he grins. "And we borrowed on them."

The trade ended up costing US$15 million. On Aug. 9, 1988, Mr. Gretzky, Marty McSorley and Mike Krushelnyski came to the Kings in exchange for Jimmy Carson, Martin Gelinas and three first-round draft picks.

The Kings never won a Stanley Cup with Mr. Gretzky – although they did reach the finals in 1993 – but they did get their sellouts. During Mr. Mlakar's seven seasons with the team, the Kings filled the Forum 282 consecutive times.

"I've heard people compare Wayne then to Tiger Woods now . . . but no athlete in any sport can be that dominant (again)," says Gary Bettman, who has been commissioner of the NHL since 1993.

He points to the trade as key to the establishment of NHL expansion teams such as Anaheim and San Jose, since L.A. wasn't considered a prime hockey market at the time.

"I don't think it revived interest (in hockey), but it helped expand interest."

Running the Senators mile

In the early 1990s Mr. Mlakar moved briefly to the Pittsburgh Penguins as the team's chief operating officer, but says he decided to leave when its owner wanted to run the team from California.

He went into consulting and moved back to Los Angeles, where his wife, Tamara, lived. She'd been vice-president of the L.A. Lakers basketball team for a number of years, and while Mr. Mlakar travelled had remained there with their four daughters.

Then Mr. Mlakar shifted his sights to Ottawa.

What he saw, originally as a consultant for the team, was a four-year-old club floundering in the league standings and also in attendance, he says. A small arena, the Civic Centre, "hamstrung" their revenues.

And although the Palladium held the promise of more money, other issues were at hand.

A confrontation with rising star Mr. Yashin – the player who later sat out a season during a salary dispute – forced Randy Sexton to leave his general manager position around 1996.

Mr. Mlakar says he then recommended Pierre Gauthier, who'd been assistant general manager with the new Anaheim Ducks franchise.

The then-Ottawa Senators owner, Rod Bryden, listened.

Mr. Mlakar says a few months later, during a practice, he and Mr. Gauthier held a candid chat about what to do next.

"Pierre got here and said, 'We have to fire this coach (Dave Allison),'" says Mr. Mlakar. "I said, 'Okay.' He said, 'I mean now. Right now. We have to find another coach and do it now.'"

Almost immediately, he says they set their sights on Jacques Martin, who Mr. Mlakar now praises for his ability to teach the then-up-and-coming team.

And Mr. Mlakar says he himself relished the challenge of setting the team on firmer ground.

"Maybe it is something I can fix," he says of his thinking at the time. "My mantra is, managers manage, coaches coach, players play and trainers train.

"If you do that, number one, that's the key to success from a CEO's perspective because all the people that report to you respect you."

Mr. Bryden, who remained owner until 2003, says Mr. Mlakar's steady hand at the Senators helm was a stabilizing factor for a somewhat listing franchise.

"Roy maintained a very stable and usually up demeanour. You very seldom saw Roy when he showed any signs of being disappointed and upset," he says.

"I understand from those that reported up to him that he could get upset, but that was rare . . . he has a remarkable facility for being concerned, but not distressed."

Dash for cash

Being the last-place team in the league gave the Senators one advantage – they nearly always drafted high, selecting early stars such as Radek Bonk and Marian Hossa. The team started with youngsters – who made up both their players and fans – and built upon a foundation of youthful exuberance.

But with attendance low and a new arena to pay for, debts mounted.

In 2003, the same year the team won the Presidents' Trophy for first place in points in the NHL, the Senators were forced into bankruptcy protection.

An emergency midseason financing deal to pay for debts and the arena – then called the Corel Centre – fell through. The following year, former Biovail CEO and billionaire Eugene Melynk stepped in to take over ownership and debts.

Mr. Mlakar says he's not sure today if the team turns a profit – such numbers are under Mr. Melynk's domain, he maintains – but rather points to the team's high attendance figures as proof that things are going very well indeed.

"He's embedded in the community," Mr. Violetta adds. "Fans know who he is, and at the end of the day a lot of it is about customer service. Roy has been a pioneer in that."

But when asked when or if he would ever leave the team of his own volition, Mr. Mlakar pauses.

"I can't answer that question," he says. His wife has since moved closer to the Ottawa area, meaning long-distance commutes are no longer a factor.

And besides, there's still one special award missing from Mr. Mlakar's resume, despite the Sens' consistent playoff berths. "There's only one winner and 29 losers chasing that (Cup)," Mr. Mlakar says.

"It's the hardest of any championship to win because of the road it takes to get it. Once you've got as close as we have, you won't settle for anything else.

"In fact," he adds, "you shouldn't."