Two Fs for Vegas; Adelson’s agenda

Congratulations, Las Vegas Grand Prix: You’re officially the Dud of 2023. Attendance for the (over)hyped event failed to raise visitation to Las Vegas, which was up less than a percentage point from 2022 … and substantially down from 2019. Such a lift as Sin City got appears to have come from conventions, which saw 2% higher attendance and 598,400 conventioneers. Occupancy was a pallid 82%. Jacked-up room prices did score for resort owners, who saw revenue per available room of $230, which was 38% higher than 2022, on rates that were 35% greater (and 86% above room prices in 2019). Weekend occupancy was 89%, down from the year previous, and midweek occupancy was up to 79%.

We’re still waiting to talk to Reid International Airport to get a breakout of international travel into Las Vegas in November. Overall, it was up 6% (but well down from 2019). Remember, Formula One weekend was the catalyst that was to have restored Sin City’s international-tourism fortunes at a single blow. It’s not looking that way, at least not yet. Already the industry has speedily turned the page to the Super Bowl, with the reliable Frank Fantini reporting highest-ever room rates for the game.

Wall Street analysts, who pooh-poohed the Super Bowl relative to F1, are presently closing ranks to declare the Grand Prix a triumph and push for more of the same. Barry Jonas of Truist Securities predicted wave upon wave of tourism in the space of three months, with Formula One giving way to New Year’s Eve and then the ‘Big Game.’ (However, the race seems to have redounded almost exclusively to the benefit of MGM Resorts International, rather than lifting all boats.) John DeCree of CBRE wrote, “Baccarat did most of the heavy lifting in November, given the demand from international VIPs during F1.” Yes, and we’ll ignore the stagnant slot play. Even three Las Vegas Raiders home games didn’t produce an exceptional boost to Vegas-in-November tourism … then again, it’s the Raiders. (Meh.)

Runner-up for Dud of the Year has to be Fontainebleau, which may regain its identity as F-blew after a most inauspicious launch. The property itself is widely praised as gorgeous but it seems to be underpopulated. A timid gambling inventory (1,500 slots) seems an odd choice for a $3.7 billion Las Vegas Strip megaresort, maybe even a perversity. Aria cost even more and wasn’t shy about showcasing its gambling product. Nor are high table minimums going to help draw bread-and-butter players to F-blue, which was supposed to throw a lifeline to Resorts World Las Vegas but appears to have a raft of problems of its own. Vital Vegas has reported a steady drip-drip-drip of bad news, from cocktail servers quitting after opening night to deployment of a bare minimum (400) of the resort’s rooms. Mind you, the Soffer Family has never operated a casino before. Never. And they’re risking it all on the biggest stage and ad the biggest scale imaginable.

One inarguable “F” goes to the Fontainebleau PR effort, which ignored social media altogether and treated traditional media not much better. Interviews, facts and pictures were hoarded like VIP player lists and given out grudgingly, if at all. TV advertising was AWOL (although Resorts World didn’t hesitate to fill the awareness vacuum.) And a resort that promised that entertainment would be its signature debuted without a lineup for its showroom. Its idea of cutting-edge fun appears to be Paul Anka. Sorry, F-blue. You’re going to have to do better than that. Much better—and soon.

What is the endgame that Dr. Miriam Adelson has in mind for her new toy, the Dallas Mavericks? Sportswriter Larry Henry has been thinking a few moves ahead. He’s sketched out several scenarios, some of them rather ominous for the city Dallas. One is the already-known one of Adelson leveraging the Mavericks into a casino-anchored arena complex in the Metroplex. At least that’s what the not-so-good doctor would like people to think. Another prospect is that the widow Adelson could just up and move the Mavs to Las Vegas, whether there’s an arena waiting in Sin City or not. The downside is that this would piss off Texans and write finis to Las Vegas Sands‘ casino aspirations in the Lone Star State. Don’t mess with Texas, as the saying goes.

One scenario that Henry doesn’t contemplate is that Adelson could use the threat of removing the Mavericks as a club to beat the Lege into submission when it reconvenes a year from now. Worst of all, she could get her bucket-list casino in Dallas that way and still yank the team, although this seems very unlikely. Both Texas politicians and the NBA would surely frown on such a bad-faith move, and Adelson’s name would be mud … not that she cares about such things. Anyway, by that point Las Vegas will probably have gained an expansion team (the odds are a short +150), rendering such threats moot. We’re rooting for expansion, not Adelson.

Despite being the nominally anti-gambling presidential candidate, Nikki Haley has indirectly benefited from shady Two Kings Casino, for which her husband was a contractor. Two Kings has the dubious distinction of being one of only two casinos ever shut down by the National Indian Gaming Commission, after the NIGC found 15 irregularities in its operation. The casino has reopened but is still operating as a temporary shack o’ slots, construction of the permanent casino being indefinitely in abeyance (think 2027). It’s been on hold so long that grass is growing from the mounds of displaced earth. Haley seems to think this is a defunct issue but may have another think coming.

Add the name of former New Hampshire politician Andy Sanborn to the list of people too sleazy to own casinos. The ex-legislator has been deemed unfit to operate a charity casino in the Granite State. Accordingly, his Concord Casino closed yesterday. It’s good riddance to Sanborn, who misapproiated Covid-19 relief funds, in part to prop up his casino and in part to buy luxury automobiles. (At least he bought American.) The GOP has-been rationalized his misuse of Covid-relief money by relying upon the Idiot Defense, popularized by the Trump Family‘s recent fraud trial: He said he didn’t know that it was a huge no-no to use government stimulus money for gaming-related purposes, blaming it on his accountant. Showing ill-intent, however, he left his line of business off his application form.

Now, if there was one fact about the Covid bailout that people in the industry knew forwards and backwards, it was that casinos were (unfairly) excluded from eligibility. So Sanborn must be exceptionally stupid, no matter which version of his actions you believe. One regulator who dealt with Sanborn testified that he didn’t think rules applied to him, which sure sounds like the case. People who have a taste for power tend to act that like they’re above ordinary mortals. Sanborn, incredibly, wants a new license in order to open another, bigger casino nearby. And pigs might fly, too. In the meantime, Concord Casino can reopen as early as June—if it is sold to someone else. The line forms to the right.