You might not always agree with their decisions, their ticket prices, their marketing plans, or their contract negotiating tactics. You might wish they had speechwriters, or mute buttons, or could be strapped to polygraphs on occasion. But the proof of the success of the owners of our local professional sports teams is in our bottom line: What have you won for me lately?

Those of us with a vested interest — of the emotional kind, not the Fenway Sports Group kind — in the Patriots, Red Sox, Celtics, and Bruins have profited over the last decade in the form of seven championships and 10 title game appearances thanks to Messrs. Kraft, Henry, Jacobs, and Grousbeck. Our “championship drought” dates way back to 2011 in these parts. The team that has gone the longest without playing for a championship is the Red Sox, who haven’t been in a World Series since, gasp, 2007.

Contrast that with Cleveland sports fans, who haven’t had a champion in any of the Big Four since Lyndon Johnson was in the White House (1964) or Minnesota, which hasn’t had a team play for a title since 1991.

That perspective is worth summoning in the wake of how readily some embraced the idea of Red Sox owner John Henry and his Yawkey Way compadres selling the team after a Fox Business report Thursday said they had begun quietly shopping the team, a charge that was emphatically denied by both Henry and Sox president/CEO Larry Lucchino.

Ownership has its privileges, and it might not always feel like it, but we’re privileged to have the ownership we do in this town for the Patriots, Celtics, Bruins, and even the Red Sox. (The Revolution remain Bill Belichick’s unwelcome house guests at Gillette Stadium until Robert Kraft gets the team a stadium of its own.)

There are no bumbling scions like James Dolan or overmatched fanboys like Daniel Snyder or Napoleonic loose cannons like Dan Gilbert in our midst. There are no Fred Wilpons, Michael Jordans, or Maloof brothers who are either short on cash, common sense, or both.

There are no longer bigots (see: Yawkey, Thomas) or cheapskates atop the mastheads. Bruins owner Jeremy Jacobs, once the poster child for parsimony, is now handing out contract extensions like Halloween candy. Perhaps Jacobs misunderstood what “going green” means, because the Bruins have forked over $70.5 million in pre-lockout contract extensions in the last nine days, according to intrepid Bruins beat writer Fluto Shinzawa.

There is no greater example of how far we’ve come than Kraft, who will preside over his 19th home opener as Patriots owner this afternoon, when the Patriots take on the Arizona Cardinals. Kraft bought a team that was a laughingstock off of Route 1 and transformed it into the paragon of pro football.

There might not be a better owner at combining off-field business and on-field business than the man his players call “LRC” — as in “lower right-hand corner.” That’s where Kraft’s signature resides on their paychecks, and he has left an indelible imprint on a previously forgettable franchise.

Grousbeck and partner Steve Pagliuca frequently go beyond the NBA luxury tax threshold to put a winner on the parquet; only the Lakers had a higher luxury tax bill last season, and, according to ShamSports.com, last season was the fifth consecutive year the Celtics paid the tax.

The case for Red Sox principal owner Henry and his partners, chairman Tom Werner and Lucchino, is more complicated at the moment. If they sell, they will leave the Sox better off than they found them, even if it doesn’t feel that way.

The Trio have been lightning rods of late for the discombobulated state of the Sox, who are on pace for their first losing season in 15 years and first last-place finish since 1992. Right now, Fenway isn’t a “Living Museum” as Lucchino wrote in his infamous post-All-Star break letter to season ticket-holders. It’s a Living Mausoleum.

But remember what the Red Sox were before the Henry-Werner ownership group took over. They were an accursed franchise playing in a dirty, dingy, dilapidated ballpark that the previous ownership said was beyond salvation.

Sox ownership and architect Janet Marie Smith gave Fenway a facelift that would make Joan Rivers jealous. Henry’s group transformed a franchise defined by masochist misery and an inferiority complex into one where winning was no longer hoped for or prayed for, but expected and demanded after World Series wins in ’04 and ’07.

I don’t want an ownership that accomplished that to sell. I just want them to stop selling out. The Red Sox are in the red when it comes to purpose, direction, and accountability on the field.

It’s a bit dubious that the Sox announced a tribute to the 2004 World Series team for the first of the final two home dates of the season, Sept. 25. Announcing the All-Time Fenway Team at the home finale Sept. 26 makes perfect sense for the 100th anniversary of Fenway. The tribute to the 2004 team for the penultimate game seems like a promotional and emotional ploy to stretch “the streak” through a meaningless game in a hopeless season.

What are they going to do with the members of the ghostbusting ’04 team for its 10th anniversary celebration in two seasons? Have them scale the Green Monster while singing “Sweet Caroline” a cappella?

For too long the Sox have put too much emphasis on building a brand instead of a baseball team. It has paid off in some respects as Fenway Sports Group has Liverpool, Roush Fenway Racing, and a marketing partnership with LeBron James.

Red Sox fans would trade any and all of those business victories for the ownership that used to produce playoff appearances, something the Sox won’t have for the third consecutive year.

An ownership legacy is measured by more than padding your portfolio or expanding your empire.

Here, “own” is a synonym for “win.”