Sam Arkwright Diary
August 22nd, 2022
I grew up obsessed with baseball. Before I started making video games, all I did was go to the ballpark at Cashman Field. I used to love watching the Las Vegas Stars Triple-A team. I was too young to watch their first season when they came over from Spokane in 1983. But soon enough, I started seeing a slew of future Major Leaguers getting their last taste of minor league baseball. Shane Mack, Andy Benes, Carlos Baerga, Bip Roberts, and, of course, the Alomar brothers, Sandy Jr. and Roberto. I saw them all in Las Vegas, all on the verge of Major League careers with the Stars' parent club, the San Diego Padres.
But no player left a bigger impression on me than Kevin Towers. There was nothing special about him as a player. In fact, he was remarkably unremarkable. Towers was drafted by the Padres out of BYU in 1982. In ten minor league seasons, he never posted an ERA below 4.01. When I saw him in 1988, he was at the tail end of his playing career. He didn't even pitch the day that I met him. But as I waited by the team bus after the game hoping for an autograph, he approached me and struck up a conversation. I told him it was my birthday. He then handed me a game-used bat from one of his teammates, Shawn Abner, and signed it:
"To Sam, 8 is great. Never grow up. -- Kevin Towers."
I still have that bat. It sits in my office in Boulder City. That was exactly 34 years ago. August 22nd, 1988. My eighth birthday.
That day was significant to me not only because it was my birthday and my first-ever ballgame. It was also the day I met the most important person in my life: Solomon King.
Sol played in the Negro League in the 1940's. When I met him, he was spending pretty much every afternoon and night the Stars were playing at Cashman Field. Ol' Sol took me under his wing and taught me everything I know about the great game of baseball. But that's another story for another day.
A lot has changed since the Summer of '88. Sol has since passed away. So has Towers, who made a name for himself long after his playing career, becoming the General Manager of the Padres. He put together the team that went to the World Series in 1998. They haven't been back since.
As for Cashman Field, it's now a soccer stadium. The Stars aren't the Stars anymore. They changed their name to the 51's in 2001, and then became the Aviators in 2019. That's when they moved into a swanky new $150 million stadium just west of town, called Las Vegas Ballpark.
And that brings us to last night, and my visit to the ballpark. I've been to a handful of games there. It's nice enough. But it's a pretty long drive from Boulder City. My other endeavors haven't left me much time to make the 45 minute trek to Summerlin. But last night I was willing to make an exception.
Peter Carlino was in town. He's the chairman, president, and CEO of Gaming & Leisure Properties. He and his investment group control the Tropicana site on the Strip. They've been in talks with Bally's about operating a casino. They've also been in negotiations with John Fisher about a stadium for the A's. One plot of land for two suitors. The man is a natural born salesman.
I had reached out to Carlino a couple of weeks ago in hopes of meeting up to talk about the A's using the site for a new stadium. As Fisher put it, "show them he's serious about moving to Vegas." I never got Carlino on the phone. I couldn't even get past his executive assistant, Beverley. She had a very distinct and proper British accent. But I couldn't tell if she was 25 or 55 years old. Anyone's guess. But Beverley finally called me back and informed me "Mr. Carlino" would see me at Sunday's Aviators game. I didn't tell her what it was pertaining to, and she didn't ask.
I strolled up to the luxury box just as the National Anthem was playing. I removed my "LV" Aviators cap and paid my respects, and then showed my digital pass to the usher to enter the box. Only two people were inside. One was wearing an official looking Aviators polo, adorned with a name tag which read "Scott D." The other was a man in his 70's. He was wearing a full business suit, despite a typically hot 101 degree evening in Las Vegas. His cheeks were flushed red, most likely a combination of the poor wardrobe choice given the game time temperature, and a clear case of rosacea. He waved me forward as I hit record on my transcription device, buried in my front pocket.
Quote:
[Begin Transcription, 7:01 pm Pacific, 8/21/22]
Carlino: Sam Arkwright. The man, the myth, the legend. So nice to finally meet you.
Arkwright: Likewise.
Carlino: The bar is open. Pick your poison.
Arkwright: Water will do.
Carlino: Water... suit yourself. Scott, water for my guest. Diet Coke for me.
Arkwright: You don't drink?
Carlino: Not when I'm talking business.
Arkwright: So this is business?
Carlino: I would assume so. The sole proprietor of an entertainment empire doesn't just call me out of the blue, unless he wants something.
Arkwright: Like what?
Carlino: I'm still trying to figure that out. My guess is it has to do with a property. Maybe you want to start a new video game-themed casino on the Strip. Am I getting warm?
Arkwright: Ice cold, I'm afraid. I have no interest in the gambling industry.
Carlino: That's too bad. Between your Intellectual Property and my connections in the industry, we could make good dance partners.
Arkwright: I'm not here looking for a partnership. I'm here to talk about baseball.
Carlino: Baseball?
Arkwright: You know... the sport that's going on right behind you as we speak? Since we've been standing here, you haven't turned around once to watch the game.
Carlino: When I'm talking to someone, I like to give them my undivided attention. Do I not have your full attention?
Arkwright: That's a difficult question for me to answer.
Carlino: How so?
Arkwright: My mind operates... differently. My focus is always fully on at least two or three things simultaneously.
Carlino: Care to explain?
Arkwright: In just the last minute, Beau Taylor lined out to first base on an unassisted double play. That dropped his batting average to .219 on the year. He's 30 years old and hasn't played in the Majors since 2020, when he was 1-for-21 with Cleveland. Barring some sort of miracle, he might be out of baseball altogether by this time next year.
Carlino: Okay...
Arkwright: I also noticed there's shrimp cocktail being served in the other luxury suites to our right and to our left, but there is no seafood in your suite. So I'm guessing you have some sort of seafood allergy.
Carlino: ...
Arkwright: Despite your investment in a luxury box at this stadium, it's abundantly clear you have zero interest in baseball. You're wearing a suit to a baseball game. A Las Vegas Aviators t-shirt would be far too casual for a man of your stature. I assume you received a few team polos and hats as a suite holder, but you probably pawned them off on your assistant, Beverley, to give to her kids. Or grandkids. Am I getting warm?
Carlino: Scalding hot. Damn, you're good.
Arkwright: So, back to the task at hand. We've established you don't care for baseball.
Carlino: Is that going to be a problem?
Arkwright: Depends.
Carlino: On what?
Arkwright: If you like money.
Carlino: Is that a trick question? Do I like money? Of course I like money.
Arkwright: Great. Then it appears you and John Fisher have at least one thing in common.
Carlino: Ah. There it is. You're here for Fisher.
Arkwright: I'm here to vouch for Mr. Fisher, yes.
Carlino: Why would you vouch for that guy? You are polar opposites.
Arkwright: Our goals are in alignment. We both want to see a Major League Baseball team in Las Vegas.
Carlino: And you're here on his behalf?
Arkwright: Mr. Fisher says you've been jerking him around on a deal on the Tropicana property.
Carlino: I've been jerking him around?
Arkwright: His words. Not mine.
Carlino: It's the other way around, my friend. We negotiate a deal, and then he turns right back around and takes it to Oakland.
Arkwright: You're not doing the same with Bally's? Word on the street is you're using the A's as leverage to squeeze more money out of Bally's to operate a new casino at the Tropicana.
Carlino: You know, for a guy who says he's not into gambling, you sure do know a lot about the business.
Arkwright: Like I said, my mind operates differently. So what's it going to take to get a deal done? I'd like to wrap this up so I can watch some baseball.
Carlino: The last offer I had on the table was $350 million for the property. And a 10% equity stake in the Oakland A's. But Bally's is making a pretty compelling offer...
Arkwright: 5-4-3.
Carlino: Huh?
Arkwright: You missed another inning-ending double play. Third to second to first. 5-4-3.
Carlino: So what?
Arkwright: So let's keep Bally's out of this. You start talking about the other girl, and I'm going to start losing interest.
Carlino: Okay... let's forget Bally's for a minute. What's the best offer you're prepared to make?
Arkwright: $500 million. Straight up. No stake in the team. That's the offer.
Carlino: Half a billion dollars? Fisher signed off on this?
Arkwright: Don't worry about Fisher. Whatever his final number is, I'll make up the difference. But I need to get a "yes" out of you right here. Tonight.
Carlino: What assurances do I have he won't back out of this deal just like he has before?
Arkwright: If he backs out, I'll double it.
Carlino: I'm sorry... what did you say?
Arkwright: If Fisher backs out, I'll pay you one billion dollars for the Tropicana property. But that last part stays between you and me.
Carlino: That's a damn good deal.
Arkwright: You're right. It is. So good, in fact, that you're not going to jerk me around by taking it back to Bally's. You're going to take this straight to your Board.
Carlino: And if they say no?
Arkwright: They won't. We both know this is the best offer you're going to get for that land. I'd say $17 million an acre for 34 acres is well above the going rate these days. And any doubts about Mr. Fisher's involvement will be allayed by my own personal commitment to this deal.
Carlino: And what if Fisher says no?
Arkwright: Let me worry about that.
[End Transcription]
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Carlino and I shook hands. He immediately went for his phone as we left the suite. I made my way down to the stands, but not before leaving Scott a hundred dollar bill for his efforts. He smiled and seemed genuinely surprised to get such a large tip. If I had to guess, I would say that's the first time he's gotten any sort of gratuity all season from that box. Carlino doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who's overly generous with "the help."
I lost myself in the game, thinking how Sol would've given a booming clap with his giant hands as the Aviators staged a late game rally. Five runs in the 8th inning erased a 3-1 Sacramento lead, sparked by a solo homer by journeyman catcher Beau Taylor, and then a 2-run homer from Dermis Garcia. Dermis is probably due for a late season call-up to Oakland. As for Beau? Probably not. He's 32 years old... a real life version of Jake Taylor from "Major League." This might just be his last year of pro baseball. But that didn't seem to bother him one bit. He was all smiles as he was drenched with a Gatorade bath, giving a postgame radio interview following a thrilling 6-3 win, lifting Las Vegas to one game above .500 at 59-58 on the year.
The game may have been thrilling, but Fisher's response to the deal for the Tropicana site was not. When I texted him about the accepted offer and terms of the deal, I was greeted with the infamous "..." text bubble. The bubble hung in the air for a solid five minutes, until it disappeared. I never got a response.