Las Vegas stadium peddlers pull their goalie

The portly striker, more penguin than Pele, streaked down the right sideline.

City Hall lobbyist Jay Brown wasn’t playing for Vegas United last Wednesday, but he did appear to be trying to save the $200 million soccer stadium proposal before it expired before everyone’s eyes.

Brown, whose juice with government from downtown to the U.S. Senate is considered legendary in Nevada political circles, rarely has to move as swiftly as he did when he left his seat and waddled into the well of the City Council chambers to grab the ear of Councilman Ricki Barlow during a meeting that was fast unraveling for stadium developers The Cordish Cos. and Findlay Sports & Entertainment.

Note to Joe Citizen: Don’t try walking that close to the City Council’s official area during a meeting or you probably would be cuffed and stuffed into a holding cell. But then no one around City Hall confuses fixer par excellence Brown with a common taxpayer.

It was a morning riddled with whispers and sidebars, some of which were considered rude behavior by Mayor and head stadium cheerleader Carolyn Goodman. Councilmen Bob Beers and Bob Coffin, consistent critics of the proposed financing of the stadium plan, were scolded like schoolboys for talking during the public participation portion.

But then the murmuring grew more intense. Members of the council whispered like mobsters concealing their felonious intentions. At one point, City Attorney Brad Jerbic and City Manager Betsy Fretwell got into the act — all while the meeting was going on and the soccer stadium proposal was beginning to reek.

Nothing was more entertaining than Brown’s impromptu Geppetto routine with Barlow in representation of the Cordish-Findlay combine. Third-base coaches send fewer signals.

The trouble for the soccer stadium’s rooting section on the council and in the crowd was manifold. Not only was the financing term sheet a nonstarter with the public and the council’s skeptics, but the deadline for Cordish-Findlay to get its act together had come. After more than four years of holding exclusive rights to the real estate at Symphony Park, Cordish again had misread the playing field. (Findlay is a relative late-comer to the game.)

In what appeared an act of desperation, during his plea for approval to the council, Cordish CEO Zeb Smith suddenly announced that the company was pledging to invest an additional $250 million to build a hotel and commercial business venture near the stadium. That’s right: a $250 million promise from a company that has been dragging its feet and calling for substantial taxpayer participation in the stadium construction.

Whether Smith was crapping out of turn or trying to lead the council into the bright light of a new era for downtown, the impact of his message set tongues wagging and the deal’s staunchest critics Beers and Coffin into an impromptu powwow.

Meanwhile, Brown huddled up with sports guys Cliff Findlay and Justin Findlay. He shared strategy with Cordish deal-maker Smith. He relayed messages to the council through a Barlow liaison. I half expected Brown to pull out one of those boards the NFL and NBA coaches use to diagram new plays with seconds left on the clock.

Although the deal-makers weren’t pleased, it was a fine example of city politics in action. After failing to do their due diligence in selling their idea, the developers were battling to keep from being shut out.

What happened next would have perplexed an urban planner or academic political scientist, but couldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone who has been following this issue. When the council finally cast a vote, it approved allowing Cordish-Findlay to go forward without following the bullet points of the financial term sheet — the very reason for the evolving paper’s existence. The tattered term sheet, a victim of handler’s fatigue in recent months, now includes no taxpayer financing.

With member Stavros Anthony in dissent, the council decided to continue the process to Dec. 1, when we suppose the developers might have pulled a Major League Soccer expansion franchise out of their hats.

For the record, the $250 million announcement by Cordish wasn’t written up. Like so many other elements of this on-again, off-again deal, it had all the consistency of the cigar smoke that had escaped the back room.

John L. Smith’s column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday. E-mail him at jsmith@reviewjournal.com or call 702-383-0295.