Written By Mauricio Segura // Photo: Mauricio Segura
SEP 17, 2025

Walk into Sutter Health Park this September and the story practically tells itself. The grass is green, the lights are bright, but the seats, far too many of them, are empty. According to a September 14 report by SFGATE, Sacramento River Cats attendance has plummeted more than 22 percent compared to last year, the largest drop in all of Minor League Baseball. That is not just a dip, it is a collapse, and the timing points to one obvious suspect: the arrival of the Oakland A’s.
The A’s came to West Sacramento in 2025 as a temporary stopover on their way to Las Vegas. On paper, it looked like a win-win. Major League Baseball in a cozy Triple-A yard would be a novelty, a shot in the arm for a baseball-loving city. But reality set in quickly. The A’s brand remains bruised by years of relocation drama, their attendance across MLB ranks last, and ticket pricing often overshoots what the on-field product delivers. Rather than creating a bigger baseball pie in Sacramento, the A’s may have sliced into the River Cats’ loyal fan base, and the Cats are the ones left hungry.
The numbers are hard to ignore. Minor League Baseball as a whole has faced some headwinds this year, with league-wide attendance down about 4.6 percent per game by late May. That is manageable, a slow bleed rather than a hemorrhage. Sacramento’s 22 percent plunge, however, is something else entirely. The Bee reported at the end of August that River Cats attendance was down about 9 percent through the first 45 home dates compared to 2024. That kind of decline is concerning but recoverable. Then came the late-season swoon that ballooned the number into the worst in the minors. The A’s presence looms large in that sharp turn.
Part of the issue is simply logistics. Two full seasons sharing one field create headaches that spill into the fan experience. In June, the River Cats had to move a six-game homestand to Tacoma while Sutter Health Park’s surface was re-sodded. For a family that planned their summer nights around predictable home dates, that is a major disruption. And when schedules get juggled, people change habits. Once a weekly ritual becomes a guessing game, some fans drift away entirely.
Then there is the identity crisis. The River Cats built their reputation on stability: affordable tickets, family-friendly outings, and a consistent Triple-A product that once led the Pacific Coast League in attendance. The A’s, on the other hand, are openly calling Sacramento a waystation before Las Vegas. They may technically be home, but they do not act like it. That dynamic muddies the water. Fans asked to support both teams are really asked to buy into two very different stories: one about local pride, the other about transience. The contradiction does not sell well.
To be fair, the A’s have drawn bigger total crowds than the River Cats could on their own. In pure numbers, Sutter Health Park is busier this year than last. That extra traffic is good for parking lots, restaurants, and hotels nearby. But volume is not vitality. If the major league team erodes the steady Triple-A fan base, Sacramento loses its strongest card: a proven, dependable minor league franchise with deep local roots. Short-term spikes do not pay the bills if they hollow out the foundation.
So, are the A’s to blame for the River Cats’ steep attendance decline? Not entirely. Rising costs, shifting entertainment habits, and a broader dip across Minor League Baseball all play a role. But it is impossible to ignore the overlap. The A’s did not just arrive, they arrived with baggage, with disruption, and with a timeline that screams temporary. Their presence has clearly compounded the Cats’ struggles, and fans have responded with their wallets.
The path forward is not complicated, even if it will not be easy. Sacramento’s baseball future depends on re-centering the fan. That means scheduling clarity, better communication, and pricing that reflects value. It means the A’s must lean into Sacramento rather than hover above it. And it means the River Cats have to double down on their own identity, reminding locals why Triple-A baseball is one of the best deals in sports. The empty seats are not a verdict yet. They are a warning. The question asked of the A’s, are they to blame, is really a question asked of Sacramento baseball as a whole: will you protect what made this city a baseball town in the first place, or let it fade under someone else’s shadow?