Miriam Adelson (left), controlling shareholder of the Las Vegas Sandals Corp., and her son-in-law Mavericks Governor Patrick Dumont (center), remain in the court side during the first half of an NBA basketball game between the Dallas Mavericks and the Phoenix Suns, on Thursday, Feb. 22, 2024, at American Airlines Center in Dallas.
Shafkat Anowar/Staff Photographer
Once it became obvious that a resort/casino south of downtown wasn’t in the cards, so to speak, it was probably only a matter of time before the Mavs and Stars followed AT&T out of the heart of city. At least the Mavs will still get their mail in Dallas, which is no small thing.
When the dust settles and the Wings move east, the city with its name on most of the local uniforms will claim the same number of franchise tenants as Arlington.
And as many as Plano and Frisco put together.
Article continues below this ad
Maybe Dallas should charge the burbs for rent of its name.
Before blaming the Vegas people for the latest desertion from our midst, which we’ll get to in a moment, let me remind you this is Dallas, where, if a problem can be put off until tomorrow, so much the better. Don’t blame Kimberly Bizor Tolbert, either. The issue is older than the city manager. All that deferred maintenance at City Hall? Before Texas and Oklahoma threatened to take their ball and go home-and-home, the Cotton Bowl went 50 years without anyone so much as calling Roto-Rooter.
The Dumont/Adelson family did what’s best for the Mavs in moving to Valley View, where they’ll have twice as much room for all their toys. Besides an arena, team headquarters and practice facility, they’re planning a luxury hotel, restaurants, green space and just about anything else a sports baron commands these days to remain in the black.
Article continues below this ad
Plus, the Mavs avoid looking like the city blew up City Hall to accommodate their money-grubbing wishes.
Just the same, Patrick Dumont shouldn’t think the move will absolve the owners of blame. The way the locals see it, everything was just fine until Vegas showed up. Next thing you know, Luka’s a Laker, American Airlines Center an antique and an I.M. Pei icon in peril.
If the Great Unwashed, as Blackie would say, can’t understand all the ins and outs, they know how to use a calendar. Same with Nolan Ryan and the Rangers the second time around. If he was a little late for most of the improvements, his arrival dovetailed nicely with the desired results.
The problem for the Vegas people is they got this in reverse. They’re in drastic need of a token of goodwill.
Article continues below this ad
As usual, I’m only happy to oblige when it comes to spending someone else’s money. In order to fade a little of the heat they’re feeling, seems to me they ought to pay for all of it, lock, stock and luxury suites. Not like it hasn’t been done before.
Maybe you remember that Rick Welts, the Mavs’ CEO, was hired not only for his Hall-of-Fame acumen as an NBA executive but his stewardship of the Chase Center in San Francisco, a sparkling model of innovation for a new age. For all its bells and whistles, the most remarkable thing about the $1.4 billion structure might be that not a cent of public money went into it. You read that right. Funded entirely by the owners, loans, corporate partnerships and advance suite sales.
A commitment along those lines would go a long way toward making potential customers feel like they’re not just here to be fleeced. Not to mention it’d make a nice mea culpa.
Because let’s face it, the Vegas people started all this civic hubbub when, first thing out of their mouths, they said American Airlines Center just wouldn’t do.
Now, I’m probably the wrong guy to render judgment, seeing as how I’ve only been to a half dozen or so of the NBA’s current arenas. For that matter, I live in a house even older than me. So you could say I’m not constantly seeking the latest in technological advances. A three-pronged outlet is pretty much the extent of my requirements.
Article continues below this ad
Fortunately for your edification, our Brad Townsend not only functions as the lone media type in semi-annual contact with the Mavs owners, he’s a continental sort who’s actually visited each of the league’s arenas. He says AAC holds up better than any gym of the same vintage. But, at the same time, it was also built to house both basketball and hockey franchises, making it a dying breed.
The problem with AAC — besides the fact that it has only 105 suites compared with Chase’s 136 and none at floor level, a prime selling point these days — is that the sight lines favor hockey. Not basketball. The Mavs say they want a more intimate experience for their customers as well as one that better serves their increasingly elevated demands.
Frankly, I think they’d settle for a team that made the playoffs more often than not and didn’t sell off franchise icons in the middle of the night. They still don’t get it, if you’re wondering. The way they see it, sure, dealing Luka was a mistake, and they’d do it differently if they could. But it was just business. Nothing personal.
As Liam Neeson told one of the bad guys in Taken, it was personal to us.  We’re not likely to get over it any time soon. We can’t be bought off, either. But that’s not to say someone shouldn’t try.
Article continues below this ad
Twitter/X: @KSherringtonDMN