Mr. Ed Roski
Chairman and CEO
Majestic Realty
City of Industry, CA
Dear Ed:
Three months since my original interview request, I am compelled to advise you of a schedule change. Beginning Monday, I will no longer be able to meet with you anywhere or anytime to discuss your proposed football stadium.
That is, of course, unless you happen to be in Beijing during the Summer Olympic Games.
Don't get me wrong, Ed. I'm still eager to learn whether your efforts pose a legitimate threat to the stability of the San Diego Chargers. I'm still intrigued by the notion that an open-air football stadium could be developed as a private venture without bankrupting the builder. I'm still agog at the sweep of your vision and the cleverness of your construction concept.
But Ed, seriously, I've been waiting longer than Miss Havisham. I've pestered your secretary. I've contacted your subordinates. I've sought out potential go-betweens. I've gotten nowhere.
At 11:39 a.m., on June 5, I sent an e-mail to an intermediary, Brad Easterbrooks, reiterating my request for an audience. Exactly five minutes later, Easterbrooks replied, “I would be very happy to help set this up.”
At 2:35 p.m. on June 19, I messaged Easterbrooks a second time. Exactly six minutes later, he told me you were traveling and would be “unavailable for the next few weeks,” and that he would keep in touch.
That was six weeks ago. Frankly, I'm beginning to wonder if you might be avoiding me.
Ed, I know you're busy. You don't become America's 195th wealthiest individual (worth $2.3 billion according to Forbes magazine) by wasting valuable time with professional busybodies. And since my disposable income barely plugs a parking meter, I'm probably not much of a prospect for luxury boxes, personal seat licenses or a stadium naming rights deal.
But, Ed, you need to know that you've made a lot of Chargers fans nervous. Though you have yet to stick a shovel in the ground, even the slightest possibility of a new football stadium in Los Angeles County fills many San Diegans with dread.
Personally, I think their fears are exaggerated, but they'd probably rather prefer to hear that from you. They'd probably like to hear that you have targeted the Jacksonville Jaguars – which is what I've been hearing – and will likely leave the Chargers to seek their stadium solution elsewhere.
They'd like to hear that the economic woes that make stadium deals so difficult in San Diego are widely shared by American municipalities. They'd like to know that the financial model for a privately built football stadium (as distinguished from a stadium that is built with private money generated from public land) is as shaky as a house of cards in a hurricane.
They'd like to know how much of a team you'd need to own in order to justify the expense of a stadium that could cost $800 million. They'd like to know how much an existing operator (say Spanos, Alex) could reduce his ownership stake before a new stadium would diminish his bottom line.
So far, I haven't found a formula that makes sense for both sides. If the Chargers are worth $826 million (according to Forbes' 2007 franchise estimate), how much could they cut you in without cutting into their own profits? How much more revenue would a new stadium need to generate in order to justify slicing up the pie with new partners?
Obviously, your minority ownership works at Staples Center, with multiple tenants (Lakers, Clippers, Kings) and a calendar crowded with concerts. Yet it's hard to imagine a football stadium in the City of Industry as a magnet for major events. It's harder still to figure how you can build a football stadium and make money without owning a majority interest in the major tenant.
That's why it makes more sense to speculate on your buying control of the small-market Jaguars or the St. Louis Rams, who have hired a sports investments firm to screen potential suitors following the death of majority owner Georgia Frontiere. That's why a little clarity from you could serve to calm a lot of anxious Chargers fans, at least until a Chula Vista stadium is deemed undoable or Mike Aguirre gets re-elected as San Diego's city attorney.
You're a generous guy, Ed. Two years ago, you and your wife, Gayle, pledged $23 million to the USC School of Fine Arts. Still, you didn't become a billionaire by treating fellow capitalists as a charity. Though you and Dean Spanos might be chummy, and creating leverage for NFL owners is a guaranteed way to gain acceptance, you're too much of a Marine to be anyone's stooge.
Besides, as you know, there are other issues. For example, your ownership of the Silverton Casino in Las Vegas could pose a deal-breaking conflict.
“Our longstanding policy,” NFL spokesman Greg Aiello says, “is that ownership of a casino, especially one that takes sports bets, would prohibit an individual from owning any interest in an NFL team.”
Not that you've asked, Ed, but my advice would be to sell the casino and buy the Jaguars. And feel free to call when it's convenient.
Best wishes,
Tim Sullivan
Tim Sullivan: (619) 293-1033; tim.sullivan@uniontrib.com
