Casino Connection Atlantic City

A Canadian lawmaker is pushing single-event sports betting as a solution to slumping revenues at Caesars Windsor in Ontario, one of the region’s largest employers. Last October, Caesars laid off 120 employees, citing a “softening of business,” and union officials fear more losses if business doesn’t pick up soon.

Joe Comartin, NDP MP for Windsor-Tecumseh, says single-event sports betting would lure more Americans across the Detroit River to Windsor, saving jobs and boosting revenues. Though the bets are illegal everywhere in North America except Las Vegas, people are still playing—con gusto, they’re playing. Canadians alone place at least $1 billion in online sports bets every year—a number that could be as high as $5 billion.

“It’s illegal,” Comartin complained, “and that money is going out of the country.”

He’s right, in the sense that the first entity to legalize single-event sports betting outside Vegas will enjoy a windfall, at least for a time—just as the first state to legalize internet gambling in the U.S. will be rolling in dough until the next state over catches a whiff of the money.

While any such change will probably be a long time coming, it’s time for all jurisdictions to acknowledge what they already know. Sooner or later, everybody is going to have single sports bets. It may not happen this year or next, and in the U.S., pro and college sports will fight it to the death. But it will happen, because states and businesses need the money.

So on one hand, Comartin is right—the wagers, if approved in Ontario, would make Caesars Windsor really catch fire, and you can bet American sports fans would flock there in droves. For a while. But sooner or later, when the wagers are legalized in U.S. states, that appeal would dwindle.

The lesson for the gaming industry (and every industry) is that taking care of business long-term and forecasting and planning for every possible negative is the only way to enjoy extended prosperity. Sports betting is one part of a bigger solution, not a quick fix.

–Marjorie Preston 

Whether you see her as fickle, pragmatic or politically opportunistic, it’s been fascinating to watch the evolution of Florida Rep. Ellyn Bogdanoff. The Fort Lauderdale Republican, who campaigned alongside former Governor Jeb Bush on an anti-gaming platform, is today working alongside Las Vegas Sands CEO Sheldon Adelson to bring a number of commercial casinos (from five to seven) to South Florida.

I see Bogdanoff as both pragmatic and opportunistic. She may object to casinos for ethical reasons, but she recognizes that the cat is out of the bag, the genie is out of the bottle, and the horse is out of the barn. There’s no going back, so why not support this kind of entertainment and generate jobs, money and possibility? The state already relies on tourism for revenue. The kind of casinos built by Adelson would fit in this region like Cinderella’s slipper.

Bogdanoff also notes that, if gaming is to benefit the cash-strapped state, the state better not give the Seminole tribe a lock on Class III games. She says full-scale state-regulated casinos would prevent a Seminole monopoly and “create competition to an industry that is not going away.” She’s joined in her support of the plan by two other prominent conservatives. Reps. Alan Hays and Carlos Lopez-Cantera also say they are open to bringing full casinos to Florida.

Though Crist is still lobbying for the Seminole deal, he said he finds the Bogdanoff plan “intriguing.” A hearing in the House is set for February.

Adelson, for his part, is doing due diligence in the state by visiting, sending lobbyists out with his message, and contributing thousands to Crist’s Senate campaign. He, too, is pragmatic and opportunistic. Hopefully this is an opportunity not just for politicians and kingpins, but for the taxpayers and working men and women of the Sunshine State.

–Marjorie Preston

There was one provision of the law authorizing table games in Pennsylvania casinos that escaped major media attention, but was significant nonetheless: The new law eliminated a provision of the state gaming law that had been added in 2006—a rule that no more than 50 percent of a slot floor can be occupied by the machines of one manufacturer.

The provision was added to the law at the time another bad provision, a pork-barrel requirement that all slots be sold through in-state distributors, was eliminated. At the time, most said the rule was aimed at slot-maker International Game Technology, which had just closed a deal for more than half of the slot floor at the Harrah’s Chester racino. (That deal was allowed to stand, since it was closed before the new provision.) Whatever the intention at the time, lawmakers correctly decided last month that it was time to let the free market rule.

It’s all an interesting repetition of history. In 1979, the New Jersey Casino Control Commission adopted a similar rule. Back then, it was aimed squarely at the former Bally Manufacturing, which dominated the market at the time. Bally had opened its own casino-hotel, obviously with all its own machines. At that time, the regulators decided to foster a healthy competition by holding that no manufacturer could occupy no more than half a casino floor. (Casinos owned by slot manufacturers—Bally was the only one—were given an exception to the rule.)

In 1979, it was a good rule for the industry. At first, it extended the life of one of the big slot manufacturers of the mid-20th century, Jennings. But by the late 1980s, the 50 percent rule had fostered the creation and growth of one of the most vital and groundbreaking new companies ever to hit the gaming industry—yes, that same IGT. Moreover, the rule was created at a time when new blood in the slot sector was definitely needed, with the old Bally on the decline as its executives diversified the business into hotels, fitness clubs and other unrelated ventures—building a staggering debt along the way.

By the time New Jersey’s 50 percent rule was rescinded in the 1990s, the slot market was entirely transformed. Companies like Williams, Sigma, Aristocrat, Atronic and IGT had joined a rejuvenated Bally to create a very healthy competition that benefited the entire industry. That competition was created, at least partly, by the opportunity afforded by Atlantic City’s 50 percent rule.

New Jersey’s rule served its purpose; the free market took over when the rule became outdated. Pennsylvania’s 50 percent rule was another matter altogether. That state’s rule was never necessary. In 2006, there was absolutely no reason to restrict free trade within the casino industry’s slot sector. It was a bad rule.

Competition is a good thing. It leads to better products and better business. Thankfully, Pennsylvania lawmakers realized that.
— Frank Legato

The gaming story that once transfixed me as an observer was the Seminole debate in Florida. Week after week, month after month, for several years, the state, the governor and the tribe tried to determine the monetary cost of a gaming monopoly. That saga recently went on hiatus with the defeat of the tribal compact, but while it lasted, there was a “tune-in-tomorrow” quality to the thing, which reminded me of a soap opera. Would Seminole blackjack games be seized? Would the parimutuel industry collapse? I’ll still tune in to this soap opera, but it’s not my favorite show anymore. I was also a fan of the long-running Aqueduct racino drama in New York, but the politicians in Albany, who seem incapable of making a decision in under a decade, have finally lost me; if this is their version of efficient government, heaven help our neighbors to the north. My new favorite entertainment is the gaming debate in Dixie. Alabama Governor Bob Riley, who froths at the mouth at the mere mention of electronic bingo, continues to threaten raids on new bingo halls in the state, although those facilities have bent over backwards to comply with state standards. The new $87 million Country Crossing entertainment center brought in independent auditors to vet and certify their machines, to demonstrate to the governor that the machines are B-I-N-G-O, not illegal S-L-O-T-S. Yet Riley’s anti-gaming task force and its midnight marauders are still skulking about, ready to pounce on little old ladies out to win a few bucks and go to the buffet.

More than one of Riley’s political adversaries, including a former aide, claim he took money from the Mississippi Choctaw Indians in exchange for limiting gambling in his own state. In Alabama, according to reports, contributors can funnel campaign money through political action committees, thus obscuring the source of the dough. Can that really happen in these United States? Anyway, if it’s true, that is how the tribe allegedly paid off the governor (who at the time was a candidate).

It is against this backdrop that we read the latest news: one of Riley’s raiders, in fact the head of the Task Force on Illegal Gambling who helped shut down bingo in his own state, resigned his post after winning $2,300 at a Choctaw casino across the state line.

In a particularly unctuous resignation letter to Riley, David Barber wrote, “While my actions were in full compliance with the law, I am certain that the forces that operate illegal casinos in Alabama will focus on my actions as part of their continuing effort to smear you and your task force. The work of the task force is too important to allow it to be impeded by such distractions.”

Country Crossing developer Ronnie Gilley says Barber’s actions “prove the hypocrisy associated with the top office in the state of Alabama.” Gilley added that Alabama is the biggest loser, because its residents are spending an estimated $35,000 an hour across the state line gambling in Mississippi.

Riley said he accepted Barber’s resignation “with regret,” then put out a new scary warning to owners of gaming halls. He told them they “should not sleep well tonight, tomorrow night or any night in the future. The anti-gambling laws of Alabama are going to be enforced!” Very purple prose, that—straight out of my favorite melodrama. Stay tuned for the next chapter. I know I will. –Marjorie Preston

One of the more controversial portions of the table game bill signed last week by Pennsylvania Governor Ed Rendell involved the Foxwoods Philadelphia casino project on the Philadelphia waterfront. The new law grants the Gaming Control Board authorization to extend the deadline for Foxwoods to submit a construction plan.

The project’s investors asked that the deadline be extended to March 1, which is when they have to submit a financing plan. The board has given the project until next year to have slots up and running. Some gaming board members and some lawmakers have decried the decision, saying Foxwoods had plenty of time to meet the original December 1 deadline for a construction plan. Many lawmakers have cried for the license to be stripped from the Foxwoods partners because of all the delays, and re-bid.

All these calls to yank the Foxwoods license are fundamentally unfair. Here’s why.

Never mind that there is always an ulterior motive in Pennsylvania, and in this case, some of the lawmakers calling for Foxwoods’ head are the same ones pushing for casino projects in their own districts. The reason it is unfair to deny Foxwoods every opportunity to complete its project is that the blame for all the delays can be laid squarely on the very public officials now calling for the license to be pulled.

Let’s look at the history of this beleaguered project. Along with SugarHouse, the other Philadelphia casino, the Foxwoods project was besieged from the start by a well-organized opposition to ANY casinos along the city’s Delaware River waterfront. This opposition was backed squarely by the City Council, and by Mayor Michael Nutter from the time he took office. It was also supported by some well-placed state lawmakers.

This axis of opposition put the screws on both Philadelphia casino projects to move off the waterfront. State lawmakers submitted bills that threatened to cancel the gaming law’s tax breaks for SugarHouse and Foxwoods if they failed to move their projects. SugarHouse executives refused to budge, telling the officials—correctly—that state law, not to mention the state Supreme Court, affirmed their right to build their casino where the license said they could, on the waterfront. Foxwoods partners, on the other hand, acquiesced to the wishes of public officials and began negotiating a deal to move their project to the city’s downtown area.

The mayor and other city officials came out in support of the move, partly because by now, they were themselves under threat of losing state slot revenue dollars if they kept blocking the casino projects. However, Foxwoods ran into a problem with one of the owners of the building in which they were going to build their casino, the old Strawbridge & Clothier department store. With negotiations for a lease incomplete, the gaming board got impatient and ordered the project back to the waterfront. Then, all the new deadlines were imposed under threat of the loss of the license, as if it was entirely Foxwoods’ fault that the project had yet to break ground.

SugarHouse has broken ground and is in the initial phases of construction because its executives refused to be bullied. Foxwoods is in this predicament solely because its executives sought to please public officials by being a good corporate citizen. What’s wrong with this picture?

Gaming board officials should cut Foxwoods some slack in this situation, and grant the comparatively modest extensions the partners are requesting. As for the lawmakers calling for the license to be yanked—many of whom caused this situation in the first place—they should just shut up.

— Frank Legato

Trump Entertainment bondholders have posed an interesting question as they face off with Carl Icahn for control of the Atlantic City casino company. How much influence should one man, one owner, one entity wield in a given gaming market?

As Icahn reveals details of his plan to buy Trump Entertainment Resorts, Trump bondholders say a winning bid by the billionaire investor will simply give him too much power in the gaming resort–the city that made the word Monopoly world-famous.

Last June Icahn bought another Atlantic City casino out of bankruptcy by forgiving $200 million in debt. His plan for Trump includes an agreement to buy $500 million worth of the bankrupt company’s debt. He plans to sell $225 million of equity, but if investors don’t line up, Icahn has guaranteed an equity investment of $80 million and an additional $45 million for the three casinos.

“Icahn Partners is putting its money where its mouth is and demonstrating its level of confidence and commitment,” his company said in court papers.

The bondholders, who own $1.25 billion in Trump Entertainment notes,  have offered $225 million for the company, with $100 million earmarked to repay loans, and the rest to be used for operations. The bondholders also would sell stock in Trump Entertainment and could sell at least one of the three casinos for $75 million, most likely Trump Marina, the weakest performer in the group. (Will Richard Fields still be interested in a Margaritaville, we wonder?)

The bondholder plan, which is supported by Trump Entertainment’s board and former chairman Donald Trump, “presents the best opportunity for the company to move forward,” said CEO Mark Juliano. “It would give us a cash infusion, leave us with less debt and create a greater platform for growth.”

Speaking for the bondholders, attorney Kristopher Hansen said regulators should reject Icahn’s newest license request because it would give him too big a stake in Atlantic City’s casino industry.

“Given the contraction in the Atlantic City market, Icahn’s possible control becomes even more exaggerated,” Hansen said.

Icahn and his partner, banker Andy Beal (who hoped to buy the casino company in cahoots with Trump, until the Apprentice star stepped aside) say the bondholders don’t have enough experience in gaming to merit a license; if regulators reject their application, Trump employees and creditors would suffer “all of the economic harm,” Icahn and Beal said in court papers.

Hearings in the case are scheduled to start February 16. Until then, consider this: in the worst recession in a generation (or more), Trump Entertainment Resorts has estimated its properties’  worth at $459 million, down from $2 billion in assets when it filed for bankruptcy at this time last year. That’s a shocking freefall. No matter who prevails in this matter, they’ll need business acuity (if not genius), great timing and a solid plan to make the acquisition worthwhile.

–Marjorie Preston

In the last year, we’ve seen gaming disappear from Russia and Ukraine. Tough anti-gambling laws were enacted in Poland that dramatically shrunk the size of the gaming industry there. And in Bulgaria, the tax rate was raised.

While there are multiple reasons for these crackdowns, one of the common threads is the proliferation of “street machines”—slot machines that are located in neighborhood arcades, bars and restaurants, or, as the name suggests, literally on the street.

Now I’m not suggesting that these street machines led directly to the bans and crackdowns, but there’s enough smoke here to suspect fire.

I’ve covered casino gaming now for 30 years and always admired how casinos generally looked after their customers. They know their likes and dislikes. They know their gambling habits. They know their birthdays of many of their guests. And in most cases, there is a personal relationship between the customer and the casino, whether it’s a casino host, a supervisor or dealer, or even the casino president.

And despite the laments of the anti-gamers, casinos care about the well being of their customers. Should something go wrong or their gambling habits dramatically change, we are often there to offer help.

That’s not the case with the street machines. Whether they are in Europe, where they can be found in places like Germany, Spain, Italy and other areas, or in the United States were VLTs are present in some states in many different venues.

They are a hot button issue in many areas. Making a choice to go to a casino is different than finding them on the streets or in your favorite neighborhood store. While most people can handle gambling, there are a few who get ensnared with such a ubiquitous presence of the machines. I doubt if there is much more compulsive gambling than the 1 percent to 2 percent prevalence that has been documented again and again in studies around the world, this small percentage may become more visible when it comes to street machines.

When your neighbors, friends and co-workers witness this kind of gambling for an extended amount of time, there can be an exaggerated impression of the impact of gaming at that level. And that can lead to appeals to public officials to curb this kind of gambling.

In Illinois, the state legislature recently approved slot machines in bars and restaurants with the approval of local authorities. As poisonous as the atmosphere is toward gaming in the Land of Lincoln, this move could turn out to be gaming’s Waterloo—through no fault of the casino owners. Already, dozens of municipalities and counties have rejected the notion that gaming should be in their local establishments. The debate has been bitter and divisive, and is bound to spill over to the perceived proliferation of gaming across the state… which can’t be good for the state’s casinos.

In Nevada, where machines are in grocery stores, convenience stores, bars and restaurants, there is already a recognition that they need to be reigned in, and licenses are much harder to garner these days.

Australia is another jurisdiction where slot machines—called “pokies” Down Under—have proliferated into all corners of society. It has provoked a backlash that has devastated not only the “clubs” but also the casinos as gaming opponents try to limit the time and amount that customers are permitted to play—an alien third force coming between the casinos and their customers.

While it is always uncomfortable for one form of gaming to oppose another, it’s probably time that the casino industry begin to find a way to discourage the spread of these street machines. Because if it doesn’t, there’s a chance that the casinos will be tarred with the same brush that paints these machines when public officials begin a crackdown on their perceived negative impact.

So let’s not become Russia, where the prosperous and healthy casino industry paid dearly for the sins of the street machine operators. 

—Roger Gros

The revelation last week that New Jersey Casino Control Commission Chairwoman Linda Kassekert was acting as a “one-woman audit committee” for the Tropicana Casino Resort in Atlantic City was surprising to me. All members of the Casino Control Commission—past and present—have always put integrity at the top of their “to do” lists and refused to entertain anything that even smacked of a conflict of interest. The paperwork they have to fill out when merely visiting an Atlantic City casino or even an out-of-state casino owned by a New Jersey licensee is mountainous.

So for Kassekert to take it upon herself and oversee the financial and regulatory operations of an Atlantic City casino is surprising. While there is nothing in the regulations covering this situation because Tropicana is currently being operated by a state-appointed conservator, Gary Stein, after ousting Columbia Sussex and its chairman Bill Yung, the appearance of impropriety should have been enough for Kassekert to at least think twice before performing the duties. And since the state has paid Stein and his cohorts more than $7 million during the past year, you would think that, for a few more bucks, they could have put together a professional audit committee.

And then there’s that curious case of Resorts International, where state regulators turned over the property to the debtor bank, the Credit Suisse Group AG. Somehow, the CCC found it possible to license a minority owner as the casino operator, former Trump CEO Nick Ribis, without demanding licensing from top bank officials, who reportedly have no control over the operations or the disbursement of revenue. The Casino Control Act clearly states that all the owners of a casino must be licensed, yet somehow, the CCC found the flexibility in the regulations to ignore that rather straightforward statute.

The times, they are a changin’ and it’s very strange to see New Jersey regulators making choices that seem to be pushing the regulatory envelope.

—Roger Gros

OK, I waited a week until I could gather my thoughts about Aria, the new casino resort located at CityCenter, that opened last week. I was hoping a week of reflection and reading other reviews would allow me to understand what was intended. But no such luck.

I admit I was skeptical of the success of such a massive property and one that was so expensive. Especially after having seen some “reasonably” priced properties in the last couple of years—such as the Eastside Cannery on Boulder Highway, which was completed for well under $250 million, and the Mohegan Sun at Pocono Downs in Pennsylvania, which was around $200 million. Granted, these are gaming-centric properties that have some amenities but are aimed primarily at the gambler. CityCenter projects that it will garner more than 70 percent of its revenues from non-gaming purchases.

But early estimates that the rooms would go for $300+ each night was been cut off at the knees with the recession in full bloom. Rooms that were built for the ultra-luxe crowd are now going for $100-$150. That’s not going to cover the interest payments on $8.5 billion. And the gourmet restaurants with the $75 steaks and $10 pieces of sushi aren’t going to do the business they need to do to meet their nut either. Not to mention Crystals, which completely confuses me. The ultra-high-end retailers in this glorified shopping mall are going to be disappointed, I predict, once the Christmas season is over and browsers are  just that.

Now that it’s open, I see the “green” LEED certification all over the property. Whether it’s the finishes on the walls and floors, which are largely natural rock and wood, or messages to guests that their sheets won’t be changed unless they specifically request it, I’m not sure what “green” is going to mean to the visitor. Sheldon Adelson commented last week that designing an ultra-modern, contemporary property limits the potential for customers. Can’t disagree with that. In some ways, the “natural” look is cold and a bit unwelcoming. The art work scattered around CityCenter is also questionable when it comes to attracting people. I love Maya Lin’s tribute to the Colorado River done is recycled silver (above), but I’m still trying to figure out what Nancy Rubins’ exploding canoes (below) means to such a contemporary property in front of Vdara.

I definitely do not like the Mandarin Oriental. Kind of forbidding entryway and the fact you have to take the elevator to the 23rd floor (lobby below) to check in seems really strange  for Las Vegas. New York, yes. Chicago, yes. But not Vegas!

I love the water features of CityCenter, starting with the fountains in front of Aria (below, as seen from above). Great interplay between water and lights, done by Wet Design of Los Angeles. Great ribbons of water in the Vdara spa. The waterfalls surrounding the Aria porte cochere are also impressive and look like they’ve been there for eons.

And I was also confused by the “flow” of CityCenter. Getting into the property from the Strip is a little convoluted. You would think they would have learned from the disaster that was the Aladdin, that they would have perfected a Strip entry, but apparently not. And the flow of Crystals (below) is also very confusing. There are several dead ends that  should not be there. And there are vast empty spaces. Now the MGM Mirage retail head says there will not be any of those kiosks you see in a regular mall, but I have to believe that will change once retail realities hit home. When I tried to get from Aria to Vdara, I was given different directions by three different employees. But that’s understandable in the early stages of a property.

Now the heart of the property is always the casino. But even there, I’m a little disappointed. As bathed in natural light as the rest of the property is, the casino is dark and cavernous. Why couldn’t they have incorporated at least a little natural light? That was, after all, their hook, or so it seems. I’m very disappointed in the sports book. It looks like it was an after-thought for the designers, tucked away behind a set of escalators. And the poker room is also a little disjointed. A hokey “playing card” theme wall  seems out of place in the midst of such originality of the rest of the property.

I do like the multiple bars and restaurants that surround the casino, but too often these days the design of the casino is rote. The circular theme (or horseshoe in Aria’s case) has been done to death since it first debuted at the Hard Rock Hotel in Vegas.

For me, the restaurants are the saving grace of CityCenter. I can’t speak for the food, but the design of each is different and unique. It will be interesting to be surrounded by such style while enjoying a meal. As long as it doesn’t cost a couple of hundred per diner, however.

So as much as I wanted to love this property, I was disappointed and confused too many times. MGM Mirage Chairman Jim Murren said at the opening of Vdara early in December that you couldn’t just explain the property, you had to experience it. So maybe I haven’t experienced enough. But when I hear that the Elvis show (below) is a disaster and the meeting space unconventional, I begin to have fears about its impact.

Remember, CityCenter has to attract people to the west side of the Strip. Visitors to Vegas are not used to walking on that side of the Strip. I know that sounds like a little thing and surely people will cross the Strip to see CityCenter. And that will be true. At least once. But how many times after that will people visit CityCenter? That, my friend, is the $64,000 question.

—Roger Gros

Yesterday, CityCenter opened the first of its many components, Vdara, a condotel, that makes the transition between Bellagio and the rest of the CityCenter project. Vdara is impressive and demonstrates the “green” certifications that MGM Mirage has received for most of the elements of the project. The muted earth tones, natural materials and low-key designs are relaxing and very un-Vegas like. It impressed most people in attendance, even my slightly jaded self. But I’m holding off on forming an opinion about the entire project until I see everything in place, how it flows and how it will “transform” Las Vegas as the MGM executives are claiming.

One thing that is bothering me, however, is the confusion about who had the vision to design and and build this place, that could be plopped in the middle of any large American city and not be out of place (as many of the Las Vegas Strip landmarks would be). According to MGM Mirage, there is no confusion. The man behind CityCenter is its chairman and CEO, Jim Murren (above, at yesterday’s Vdara opening).

But, you see, that’s not what I remember. I was there almost exactly five years ago when MGM Mirage called a press conference right in the middle of the industry’s largest trade show, G2E, at the Bellagio to announce CityCenter. Hundreds of media and MGM execs attended to hear about this unlikely project, which would sit on the site of the old Boardwalk Hotel Casino and other parcels of land acquired by MGM when it bought Mirage Resorts in 2000. But it wasn’t Murren who was explaining the idea and the vision behind the project, it was then chairman, Terry Lanni (below). With a great eloquence, Lanni hovered over the model of CityCenter, explaining the different elements and how they would work in the “new” Las Vegas. The announcement of CityCenter spurred a debate about the “Manhattanization” of Las Vegas. But Murren? I can’t remember him even speaking.

Now don’t get me wrong. I believe Murren is a brilliant executive. His acumen in bringing the company from the brink of collapse earlier this year and navigating the rough waters of the company’s relationship with its CityCenter partner, Dubai World, was as close to genius as you get in the business world. But Murren only took over one year ago when Lanny mysteriously stepped down. So until one year ago, CityCenter was still Lanni’s baby. (I still contend Lanni was forced out by Dubai World because of escalating costs at CityCenter rather than for the issue of a tainted CV, which was widely reported in the media.)

And in yesterday’s moving speech by Murren at the opening of Vdara, Lanni was not even mentioned. Murren described the project eloquently and explained that the opening against the backdrop of the “Great Recession” would be inspirational for all of Las Vegas. But not a word about Lanni or his vision. In fact, a story in the Las Vegas Sun last week contended that Murren was the man who pushed CityCenter when no one else did. The article makes it appear that with Kirk Kerkorian’s support, Murren rode roughshod over the board of directors (and by implication, Lanni) to get them to approve CityCenter. Lanni is only mentioned in passing in the article as the guy who hired Murren. While we all know egos are a big part of any casino organization, I know Terry Lanni well enough to know that if Murren was the one who was driving the boat on CityCenter, he would have had a greater role in the press conference that announced CityCenter five years ago. Lanni also has an ego, but was always fair when distributing credit for good things happening in any of his businesses.

So we come back to the initial question, whose vision is it anyway? I contend that this is Lanni’s vision; his desire to change Las Vegas in the same way Steve Wynn did with the Mirage in 1989. I don’t doubt that Murren bought into the idea and almost certainly contributed many of his “urban planning” ideas as outlined in the Sun story.  But to completely cut Lanni out of any credit is very confusing to me, particularly at a time when Lanni is struggling to beat cancer, as it was announced last month.

But in the end, we’ll see who will get the credit (or the blame, because realistically, CityCenter has a long way to go before it is declared an unqualified success). I just hope that Lanni gets his due.

—Roger Gros