The camera is always on.
Craig Cheek learned that lesson this week. The Portland Diamond Project founder didn’t realize when he spoke to a legislative committee on Monday that the hearing was being streamed online. Or that the Zidell Yards renderings he said he was showing lawmakers in a “sneak peek” could be easily accessed by the public.
Cheek told me on Tuesday that his group had been trying to be “disciplined and sensitive about being public right now.”
Oops. Everybody is now in the loop.
But when Cheek, a career Nike executive, pondered whether he would have delivered his message differently had he known he was speaking to the entire state, and not just its representatives, he chuckled.
“I might not have worn my grandpa glasses,” he said.
With that, a project that was gaining steam in the background has now surged back to the forefront. And for the first time in years, I think, it is deserving of some cautious optimism.
The question today is not whether Portland will land a Major League Baseball team. That is still several steps away and ultimately in the hands of the league’s owners and Commissioner Rob Manfred.
But to make Cheek’s vision a reality, and not just a Field of Pipe Dreams, Oregon must demonstrate it has the political will to go all out.
To, forgive me, swing for the fences.
You see, Cheek was not just visiting the Oregon Capitol to show off pretty pictures — though they certainly are very pretty. By unveiling the renderings of a glistening, state-of-the-art ballpark on the banks of the Willamette River, Cheek was priming the pump for a big-time request of lawmakers: To “modernize” Senate Bill 5, the 2003 legislation that assured $150 million in low-risk general obligation bonds toward a stadium project that would be repaid by taxes on a future Major League Baseball team’s players and officials. A so-called “jock tax.”
That bill was approved as a carrot to lure the Montreal Expos. The Expos eventually moved to Washington, D.C., but the law has remained on the books for two decades. Now, the MLB is expected to announce expansion by the end of the decade.
Cheek did not put a dollar figure on that so-called modernization on Monday, but sources close to the project indicated to me in recent days that the group’s request was expected to be $800 million to $900 million.
When I ran those numbers by Cheek, he seemed surprised, but eventually called them “spot on.”
That figure would make Portland’s bid competitive with the $900 million the Utah Legislature approved last year for a ballpark project near downtown Salt Lake City.
Before you crumple up the newsprint you’re holding or throw your phone through the wall at the prospect of Oregon dumping nearly a billion dollars into baseball, please understand this: Just as in 2003, this would not be a new tax. It is not a tax on you and me. It would simply divert the taxes of ballplayers in Oregon, both home and away, to pay back the bonds that helped build a stadium.
The tax is only triggered if Portland is awarded an expansion franchise. It is found money.
Open and shut, right?
It’s not just Cheek asking for a handout. Mayor Keith Wilson sat next to him in the committee room on Monday. Portland Metro Chamber CEO Andrew Hoan was next to him.
When since Vera Katz has Portland had alignment like this … for sports?
Cheek described the proposal as “keeping up with what today’s numbers would look like,” reflecting inflation in materials, labor and player incomes.
Such leadership from elected leaders is the kind of leadership that could vault Portland into serious contention.
In 2003, the $150 million was projected to account for nearly half of the cost of a stadium. The newest ballpark in the MLB, the Texas Rangers’ Globe Life Field, cost $1.2 billion to build. And that was five years ago.
If the price of eggs has multiplied since 2020, the cost of retractable roofs has, too.
Are you listening, Salem?
And for anyone wondering whether the state should be investing in Portland with all of its troubles, note that an economic study released by the Portland Metro Chamber last month showed that tax revenue per capita in Multnomah County was 56% higher than in the rest of the state.
Return on investment, anyone?
Oregon has suffered a lot of losses lately. The economy is down, Portland is recovering slowly from the pandemic. We were way in the lead for a CHIPs Act research hub, then lost it. Like the Falcons in Super Bowl LI.
With baseball, it feels like Oregon has an opportunity to go win something. Or at least try to.
Now, I admit that Cheek and the Diamond Project are facing numerous obstacles. Hurdles that may even be bigger than the elected officials looking to win votes in their districts.
The first is transparency. The issue of who is backing this project is a sticking point for virtually anyone who encounters it. Cheek has long asserted the group has billionaire backing, but has refused to name names.
When pressed on Tuesday, he said, “It is the logical question to ask and it is the obvious question. At the appropriate time and place, we will disclose.”
There is little chance Oregon lawmakers pony up the financing for half of this theoretical project without knowing who is paying for the other half. The clock is ticking on bringing that person, or those people, into the light.
The second obstacle is credibility and public perception. The Diamond Project has been doing this for so many years and in so many iterations that it can, I concede, be difficult to keep up. To know what is real and what is pure fantasy.
Terminals 1 and 2? Portland Public Schools headquarters? Lloyd Center?
Each location has been proposed, considered, created some excitement, then eventually evaporated.
Last year’s disastrous bid to strong-arm the city into selling the RedTail Golf Center was nearly the final straw. Met with widespread criticism, it put the entire project in peril.
The message from then-Mayor Ted Wheeler to the Diamond Project was clear: To win the support of City Hall, any ballpark needed to be in the city’s central core.
It forced Cheek and his group to get serious. And to drum up a project that aligned better with the city’s values of sustainability, public transportation and revitalizing downtown.
The South Waterfront location is on light rail and the Diamond Project envisions most fans accessing the stadium from the east side of the river via Tillikum Crossing.
Will parking be an issue? Could it cause problems for nearby OHSU? Yes and yes. But those questions can serve as a launching pad for creative solutions.
Wheeler deserves some credit here. Before leaving office, the much-maligned mayor urged the city council to approve a resolution pledging support for the project into the future. It passed 5-0. Sources indicated that measure was more than symbolic: It gives direction to city staff and could help push through permitting and infrastructure when — if — it’s time to build.
Incoming Mayor Keith Wilson has continued that support.
Officials who were previously skeptical of the project now seem to have jumped on board. Sources described the Diamond Project as being aligned with the business community in ways it previously was not. Cheek’s group has enlisted veteran lobbyist Greg Oxley to be on the ground in Salem. Economist Mike Wilkerson — of “doom loop” fame — is on board as a consultant.
The group has the backing of City Hall, the Portland Metro Chamber and Travel Oregon. The AFL-CIO has shown support.
Architecture firm Populous, which delivered the renderings, has an office in Portland. Gard Communications, a high-powered Portland firm, is handling the group’s PR.
Said Cheek: “We wouldn’t be spending millions of dollars if we didn’t feel like it was the right time and the right place with the right vision.”
If you’re not watching closely, it might seem like the Diamond Project is just delivering the same hollow platitudes they have been making for nearly a decade. However, people I spoke with this week described the project as having gained serious political momentum following the RedTail debacle.
Cheek took the criticism seriously. Rather than dig in and fight, he pivoted.
Said one source: “That started with building a serious team around him and building partnerships. Now, they’ve built belief. There’s a real belief that this can happen.”
So when is the first pitch on opening day along the banks along the Willamette River? We’re not there yet.
The first question is whether the Oregon Legislature can bring home the vision that Oregon lawmakers first had 20 years ago.
It’s a big number, but not a big ask.
As I watched Cheek speak on Monday morning, I jotted down a few things he said to legislators in front of him.
“I’m very competitive,” Cheek said. “I do not like to lose. I have not lost a lot.”
Does anyone really want to see a Major League Baseball team in Utah before there is one in Portland?
Cheek told the lawmakers, “We encourage you to get your competitive juices flowing as well.”
Whether they accept that challenge might just say more about our state than whether we ever get a baseball team.
Fair warning this time: We’re all tuning in to watch.
— Bill Oram is the sports columnist at The Oregonian/OregonLive.
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