Friday roundup: Rays promise “intimate” stadium with ginormous upper deck, Cleveland running out of tax money to pay for Cavs and Guardians upgrades

Happy end of the week! Surely some other news of note happened in recent days, but you chose to come to this website, so you’re looking for different news, maybe some bleak Utah minor-league baseball renderings? And that is but the beginning of the smorgasbord of stadium and arena items on tap! (Yes, you can have a smorgasbord on tap, I’m a professional wordsmith, you’ll just have to trust me on this one.)

  • Reporting live from Tampa Bay Rays owner Stu Sternberg’s colon, the Tampa Bay Times’ Marc Topkin has a love letter to the Rays’ new stadium design, gushing about how much more “intimate” it will be thanks to only having 30,000 seats and “70% of the seats in the lower two of three seating levels.” Getting rid of the worst seats doesn’t actually make the view from the remaining seats any better — getting rid of intervening luxury seating might accomplish that, but there’s no indication Sternberg plans to do that — and having 30% of the seats in a third deck actually sounds like a lot for a 30,000-seat stadium (the Pittsburgh Pirates‘ stadium holds 38,000 and doesn’t have a third deck at all), but team officials blurted all this stuff out and Topkin wrote it down and printed it verbatim, that’s the job of a journalist, right? (UPDATE: FoS reader Andrew Ross points out that the Times actually squeezed this story onto its front page alongside the other notable news of the day.)
  • Cleveland’s stadium agency is on the hook for nearly all upkeep of the Guardians stadium and Cavaliers arena, and the alcohol and cigarette taxes that are supposed to pay for them are running dry, so someone is going to need to find more money to spend on the teams. (Right now Cavs owner Dan Gilbert is fronting his team’s arena costs, and the city and county will have to pay him back.) Some of the work includes upgraded elevators and escalators for the Cavs, kitchen equipment upgrades and new in-stadium TV screens for the Guardians, and a special film on the new glass wall at the Cavs arena to keep birds from flying into it which will have to be replaced every five years, not all of which really seem like “capital repairs” to me, but from the sound of things whoever negotiated these leases on behalf of Cleveland and Cuyahoga County did an absolutely horrible job that is allowing the team owners to bill the public for any and all upgrades, can lawyers be found guilty of malpractice? Make a note to check into that.
  • Speaking of malpractice, the Baltimore Banner managed to write about the Ravens‘ new stadium upgrades with only the briefest of mentions that state taxpayers are picking up the entire $430 million tab, and not mentioning at all that Ravens owner Steve Bisciotti can avail himself of another $170 million or much more after that. The headline the Banner chose to roll with: “M&T Bank Stadium’s premium areas will soon reach new level of luxury.” Turns out corporate-run nonprofit journalism isn’t necessarily any better than corporate-run for-profit journalism, maybe we need a better model?
  • I’ve been sadly neglecting the throwdown in Indianapolis between Indy Eleven owner Ersal Ozdemir, who was planning to build a new stadium for his USL-but-wants-to-be-MLS team with $112 million in state money, and Mayor Joe Hogsett, who now wants to use the money for a different soccer stadium on a different site for a different wannabe MLS ownership group. The City-County Council is set to vote on authorizing legislation for a new “professional sports development area” (read: super-TIF district) on June 3; if it’s approved, it would then go to the state legislature for a final vote.
  • New York Mets owner Steve Cohen’s plan to build a casino in his stadium parking lot, despite it being public parkland, is likely dead after state senator Jessica Ramos said she won’t support any casino project in her district when 75% of residents say they don’t want one. The state legislature could still pass casino authorizing legislation over the local representative’s objections, but that rarely happens, and anyway the state casino location board is unlikely to hand out a casino license to a project on such shaky ground, so probably New Yorkers will get to gamble somewhere other than the Mets parking lots, which Cohen is vowing will remain parking lots until the sun burns out, because it’s the prerogative of a sports team owner to throw a hissy fit.
  • A stairway flooded during heavy rains at the St. Louis Cardinals stadium, time to build them a new one, that’s how it works, I don’t make the rules!
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Queens residents face off over Mets owner’s parkland casino, but the real fight is yet to come

On Monday night I dropped in on a gym in Corona, Queens to check out the second of three community town halls scheduled by New York state senator Jessica Ramos on New York Mets owner Steve Cohen’s plans to build an $8 billion casino project atop the city parkland currently in use as his team’s parking lots. After the first event back in May, Ramos had definitively pumped the brakes on state legislation that would be required to convert the parkland to another use, saying “a community discussion has been sorely lacking”; local opinion had been decidedly anti-casino at the initial meeting, so anticipation was high for the much-delayed followup.

As you can probably guess if you’ve ever been to one of these things — and don’t have to if you’re already read my article on the town hall that ran yesterday in Hell Gate — the vibes were intense from the start, especially once Ramos laid out the ground rules for what she hoped would be more workshop than shouting match:

After some brief crowd work from Ramos (“I know all the carpenters want to sit together, but that may not be possible…How was everybody’s Thanksgiving? I made waffles out of stuffing the next day!”) she laid out the ground rules for the night’s event. “We are going to roll up our sleeves today,” said the senator, and make sure “everybody understands what it would mean to build this or what it would mean for us not to build this.” To that end, two balloons had been set up at opposite ends of the gym. Those who wanted to craft a potential community benefits agreement to attach to Cohen’s plan were directed to sit by the pineapple balloon; those who wanted to work on an alternative plan, perhaps achieved by creating a community land trust, would sit by the flamingo balloon.

The crowd immediately split along ideological lines. Pineapples — many of whom wore union jackets or t-shirts from a newly formed group called the Coalition for Queens Advancement that featured Cohen’s metropolitanpark.com website printed prominently on the back — were pro-casino, hoping for new jobs and wanting mostly to ensure that they would be union ones. They outnumbered by about 2-to-1 the flamingos, who brought anti-casino signs and clutched handouts from a local anti-gentrification group called the Flushing Anti-Displacement Alliance with a sketch of an alternative plan dubbed Phoenix Meadows that featured all green space and none of Cohen’s desired casinos, convention space, or even the ginormous parking garages (with solar panels on top) that the Mets owner planned to hold all the cars that would be displaced from the open-air parking lots. (The numerical disparity was possibly partly explained by the fact that FADA had decided to boycott the town hall as a casino-enabling sham and instead rally outside, with organizer Joseph Jung calling it an attempt to “socialize the community into accepting a casino just by trying to pass a community benefits agreement that can’t be enforced anyway.”)

Nobody on either side, it quickly became clear, had any intention of discussing their opposing stances with each other, or even writing down suggestions on the index cards that Ramos’s staff had dutifully provided for every folding table. The end of the meeting featured the senator grabbing a wireless mic and stalking the dwindling crowd like Phil Donahue, as flamingos argued that city parkland should be used for parks, while pineapples countered that since Cohen was granted a 99-year lease on the parking lots as part of his 2006 stadium deal, might as well try to extract some concessions like bike lanes or, as one of the younger participants requested, “solar panels so it doesn’t use oil or stuff that is bad.”

(If you’ve read this far and are wondering when I’m going to get to the potential public costs of all this: That part didn’t come up at all. As I noted the last time I wrote about this for Hell Gate, if the developers are able to build on city parkland without paying property taxes or rent or PILOTs or anything, that could amount to a huge public subsidy — but beyond the $8 billion construction price tag and the required $500 million tithe to the state for a casino license if one is approved, Cohen has steadfastly refused to discuss the finances of his plan, and nobody from his team showed up at the gym to take questions or even play with the pencils.)

All of which was fine enough, because aside from giving Ramos some talking points for her eventual faceoff with Cohen, nothing that was said on the evening is likely to matter much. FADA’s intimations that she’s a casino quisling aside, Ramos clearly seems intent on finding a third way that will transform the parking lots without simply swallowing the Mets owner’s plan whole: She at one point warned of “a casino that often extracts wealth and that could become obsolete now that all the gambling is happening on people’s phones,” but in the next breath declared that “we do not have the option of keeping the asphalt.” Cohen, meanwhile, has dismissed any talk of a casino-free development as “economically not feasible.” And each side has only one hammer, and that’s the power to block the other’s plans — Ramos by refusing to pass enabling legislation for development, Cohen by calmly tapping that 99-year lease and saying “casino or bust” — meaning the whole thing is likely to come down to a giant game of chicken, with both parties waiting to see who’ll blink first.

During a brief press scrum while everyone scrambled to pick their balloon affiliations, I asked Ramos how she thought those talks would go down, or even when they would happen. “I’m going to continue to meet with everybody who asks for a meeting,” she demurred. “This is going to be an ongoing conversation.” The next town hall is currently slated for sometime in 2024, after which the real haggling will no doubt commence.

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Mets owner finally says out loud he wants to build an $8B casino complex on city-owned parking lots

New York Mets owner Steve Cohen yesterday revealed more details of his plans to build an $8 billion casino complex in the Citi Field parking lot, and, yep, that looks pretty much like it sounded when he first talked about it last winter:

Sorry, no vaportecture images with smiling gamblers raising their fists in the air while fireworks go off overhead. Gotta save something for the encore!

Cohen has said he — and/or his business partners Hard Rock, who would run the casino — will put up the $8 billion, but there are still a few question marks about the plan. First off, Cohen does not actually own a casino license: He’s hoping to be granted one of three expected to be given out by the state for the NYC area in the next year or three. This, in fact, is a large part of why he’s had this “Metropolitan Park” plan sketched out now, as the state is expected to prioritize projects that seem shovel-ready — to avoid going through the lengthy vetting process and then ending up with a project that can’t actually happen.

“Can actually happen” is up in the air as well, though, as Cohen doesn’t actually own the land he wants to build on, which is city-owned parking lots that are technically public parkland. Courts have consistently ruled that “fun stuff” does not qualify as a legally recognized park activity, so that means the state legislature would have to pass a bill demapping the parking lots as parkland. Jeff Aubrey, the state assemblymember who represents the district, has already introduced a bill to do so; Jessica Ramos, the state senator who represents the district and who also may challenge Mayor Eric Adams for City Hall in two years, has so far declined to introduce a parallel bill, saying she wants to hear more from her constituents and consider other alternatives for the site. “If you look at everybody who spoke, about two-thirds expressed not wanting a casino,” Ramos told me after holding a town hall on the project in May; she has annoucned another one for Monday, November 27.

Of course, Cohen has a hammer, too, which is that as the leaseholder for the parking lots, nothing can really happen on the site without his say-so. There is likely lots of gamesmanship still to come, in other words, not to mention financial details of who will pay what rent and property taxes — if an $8 billion casino development gets deemed tax-exempt because it’s on public land, that’d be a ton of tax breaks. Right now this is just about Cohen getting the ball rolling on building public support (or at least legislative support) for his casino dreams, and trying to make his plan seem less vapory than the ones across town.

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