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Columnist Brian O'Neill: Plan B pitch closer to target
Wednesday, March 11, 1998 By Brian O'Neill, Post-Gazette Columnist
Mayor Murphy, pitching the new financing plan for two new stadiums and a mammoth expansion of the convention center, said Plan B sprang from the "clear" signal sent by voters.
Murphy was speaking of the unrepentant slaughter of the sales tax referendum in November. The mayor noted that voters wanted "no new taxes."
True.
He also said, however, that voters said it was "acceptable to use existing public monies" if that dough was complemented by private investment.
That's not at all clear.
Not everyone in the "No" chorus last fall sang the same note. Some who objected to the half-cent increase in the sales tax will accept this new plan, which feeds from other public troughs, but there are many who don't want any tax money to go toward stadia. Period.
Many "no" voters last fall were put off by the fact that these buildings are designed for high-income fans, not for them. Three Rivers Stadium did not generate this controversy when it was built with public money almost three decades ago because it was designed for the masses. That won't be the case with the stadiums of the 21st century, which are heavy on the luxury boxes and light on the cheap seats.
With Plan B still a work in progress, its proponents would ignore this latent class warfare at their peril.
That said, this new idea already beats the heck out of Plan A. It does not apply new taxes on the average person. Plus, it smartly skewers the poster child of American class resentment, the high-paid professional athlete.
The proposal to take 1 percent of the money that visiting ballplayers earn in Pittsburgh would raise only $7 million toward this $803 million project, but the symbolism is perfect. Allegheny County Commissioner Mike Dawida wasted no time throwing out the name of boo magnet Barry Bonds in his joyful explanation of the tax.
The rest of the local money could come from existing sales taxes and hotel taxes, parking revenue, naming rights, ticket surcharges and various investment schemes such as selling the scoreboard to a company that might lease it back to the teams. (That, like a luxury box, would be a tax shelter for some fat cat, and so a thinly veiled federal subsidy.)
None of this is close to a done deal. Commissioner Bob Cranmer, who until recently favored renovating Three Rivers Stadium for the Steelers, indicated he could resume that stance if owners didn't dig deeper.
Steelers President Dan Rooney, a legendary negotiator, made it equally plain he hasn't agreed to everything the politicians proposed.
Cranmer has the stronger case. The Steelers are asking us to knock down a debt-ridden stadium the team has no problem selling out. While the football team is immeasurably important to the regional psyche, it hasn't near the economic impact of the Pirates, crucial to any strategy of attracting conventioneers. With the National Football League newly awash in TV money, it would seem the Steelers are in a position to pick up more of the tab for their coveted digs.
The more money the teams put up, the less resentment people will have. Fair-minded people acknowledge how much these teams mean to this city; a summer without the Buccos or an autumn without the Stillers wouldn't seem like Pittsburgh.
But if resentment isn't a more powerful emotion than love, it's a louder one. That might be the only thing clear.
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