On Thursday, as the St. Petersburg city council hearing on approving $287.5 million in Tampa Bay Rays stadium bonds toward a total $1 billion public subsidy was still underway, I asked this:
It's very clear at this point that the St. Pete council intends to vote 4-3 to approve city bonds for a Rays stadium. The big question: Then what? Will Stu Sternberg demand more money to fill the budget gap he's claiming? Will the county demand more money to flip one of its four opposed members?
— Field of Schemes (@fieldofschemes.bsky.social) 2024-12-05T21:55:04.676Z
On Saturday, the Tampa Bay Times provided some preliminary answers:
Representatives from the Rays and from St. Petersburg Mayor Ken Welch’s administration have met with commissioners this week to seek their votes. It’s still unclear whether the Rays remain on board. … Welch said Thursday that “significant issues” remain regarding the Rays’ stadium obligations, though the private sector could fill the funding gap.
Could it, though? Presumably any private investor would want some kind of tangible return on their investment — economic activity doesn’t feed the balance sheet — so that would have to be either something Rays owner Stu Sternberg would have to give up (naming rights, pouring rights, suites, etc.) that he could otherwise cash in on and pocket the money from, or something the city would have to give up. Unless this whole cost overrun claim is a dodge by Sternberg to counter demands from county commissioners for a better deal so they can end up compromising right where both sides started, in which case the Rays owner might be happy enough to find private money for it so long as he gets to keep his initial $1 billion.
As for what Pinellas County commissioners might compromise on:
[Commissioner Vince Nowicki] said he wants the deal renegotiated with more convention and meeting space, revenue sharing by the team and payouts each time land from the Gas Plant is sold.
That’s a fair modest ask, though “revenue sharing” could add up to a significant amount, depending on the details. But of course Nowicki is only one county commissioner, and Sternberg only needs to sway one of the four “no” votes to get his stadium bonds; anyone else likely to come cheaper?
“I don’t feel any pressure to approve something that I said was a bad idea the entire time,” [Commissioner Chris Latvala] texted the Times.
Nothing much to work with there. Who’s next?
[Commissioner Dave Eggers] said he was meeting with Rays officials this week with an “open mind,” [but] he said hewas not “overly optimistic.” [Chris] Scherer, a stadium deal skeptic who also is new to the board, has said he could be a swing vote. Neither Scherer nor Eggers could be reached for comment.
I could be wrong — I only know these four commissioners from what I saw of them at one webcast hearing — but after watching a whole lot of stadium haggling over the years, this feels like one that is going to be settled not on the basis of whether a $1 billion public stadium price tag is bad policy, but on how much in sweeteners the swingiest of the swing votes is willing to settle for at the negotiating table. That isn’t necessarily terrible — if the whole kerfuffle of the last two months ends up getting a smidge more for the public, it’s better than nothing. And ensuring that the Rays stay in town isn’t worthless, even if it’s probably close to worthless, especially considering Sternberg’s lack of other cities offering him a similar deal.
Still, if it turns out that Pinellas County residents voted in a commission majority opposed to handing over a pile of money to a local sports billionaire when the area is reeling from a devastating hurricane, all to end up handing over a slightly smaller pile of money and calling that victory, that’s not great, exactly. The county commission majority has the opportunity to play hardball and demand a significantly reworked deal, or even to scrap this plan entirely and tell Sternberg to go back to the drawing board. So far they’re playing it close to the vest what if anything they’ll settle for, but given that a one-vote majority is only as strong as its weakest member, it’s probably not worth getting your hopes too high.