It’s never good to knock a dead man, even George Steinbrenner. But the fact is the Red Sox franchise, under quirky, hedge fund genius John Henry, has surpassed the hated Yankees to become the most ruthlessly efficient money machine in sports.

That may sound odd given the stumbling start to this Sox season, now seemingly fading after a recent string of wins. But if anything, the team’s early struggles only reinforced the hardnosed canniness with which Henry (a one-time Yankees minority owner), and baseball veteran Larry Lucchino have managed the franchise’s business affairs.

Despite the team’s early season tailspin, the price of Sox tickets sold by ticket brokers on the so-called secondary market leads the league again, despite a modest dip during the first few weeks.

While the team’s better play of late has helped, the fact that prices never came close to falling through the floor has much more to do with how the Sox business office has stoked ticket demand, year and year out.

“We have five people and all they do, all day long, is deal with people selling (Sox) tickets,” Jim Holzman, chief executive of ticket re-seller Ace Tickets, recently told me. “Fenway Park is a very magical place and people just want to go there and be there.”

Money In The Bank

With a whopping payroll and new stars like Adrian Gonzalez, the Sox were picked by some to win the World Series before they had played a game. The team then promptly went 2-10, dropping a titanic stink bomb on Red Sox Nation on their way to the worst start of any Major League team this season.

But you wouldn’t know it from the prices fans were shelling out to ticket brokers for Sox tickets, which now average $105 per game. A late May matchup with the Cubs, in turn, weighs in at $193 per ticket, according to SeatGeek.com.

Yes, Sox fans are dog-like in their unquestioning love for their team.

But that fails to give Henry and his right-hand man Lucchino the credit they deserve as canny businessmen in a field (sports) too often dominated by blustery blowhards.

By the time Opening Day arrived, the Sox had already unloaded 85 percent of the season’s ticket inventory.

In fact, 70 percent of these tickets had been doled out months before to corporations with long-term contracts for club-style seats, season tickets holders, many of them now companies, and ticket resellers, according to reports.

If the Sox had continued to stink, Henry would have likely still come out ahead, having already banked most of the season’s ticket revenues before it even began.

This, in turn, is the culmination of a strategy Henry and gang have cultivated since they bought the Sox for more than $700 million in 2002. It can be summed up as taking Fenway, once decidedly gritty and blue collar, uptown.

The Sox owners have pumped more than $285 million into renovations of the antique, 1912 ballpark.

Yet, in the name of preserving Fenway’s charm, they have kept the ballpark small, with overall seating capacity just below 37,500.

Of the approximately 3,000 seats the Sox have added to Fenway, the vast majority of these have been luxury, corporate perches or ostensibly “regular” seats, including those atop the Green Monster, retailing at luxury prices.

That has ensured a steady stream of revenue from the big shots of the Greater Boston corporate community, while also keeping Fenway small enough to ensure demand will continually outstrip supply.

No Room For ‘Average’ Fans?

But it’s more than just revenue – it’s the type of revenue that’s key here.

Here’s a neat little banking secret: Teams like the Sox can borrow against the steady and stable revenue produced by corporate seats. After all, these are basically multi-year deals to lease out large sections of seats at escalating rates – and you literally can take that to the bank.

There’s a price to be paid here, though.

The average fan looking to get a ticket to a decent game at Fenway is getting the squeeze here. In fact, veteran ballpark observers note an increase in casual fans using either money or corporate connections to get in, but unable to keep score, let alone name the new first baseman (the aforementioned Gonzalez).

But in pure business terms, Henry and Lucchino have managed to accomplish what would have seemed improbable a decade ago.

They took a ballpark that had been slated for a date with the wrecking ball and turned it into a cash cow that helped finance two long awaited World Series titles.

They’ve transformed Fenway into a corporate clubhouse and doubled revenue over a decade to $266 million.

Has this been fair to all fans in Red Sox Nation? That’s a big question. But when it comes to ruthless efficiency, it’s hard to see much debate here.