Caesars Entertainment being out of the Suffolk Downs equation, the would-be racino has been dubbed “a headless horseman” by opponents and faces an uncertain fate at the ballot box. One might well question Suffolk owner Richard Fields on why his due diligence regarding Caesars was apparently so slap-happy that the Massachusetts Gaming Commission‘s strictures took him by surprise. But Fields wasn’t taking questions from Wall Street analysts last week. Caesars CEO Gary Loveman was and what was failed to be asked of him was more illuminating that what was. In reading the transcript, one cannot help but be struck by the subservience of the stock pickers, who fairly prostrated themselves at Loveman’s feet.
One begged the question of the timing of Caesars’ severing its ties to Gansevoort Hotel Group. Loveman waited until after the Massachusetts debacle to cut Gansevoort loose. Why so? The issue had become moot. Was it because he knew that there was Gansevoort-related trouble a-brewin’ in Colorado? That there was only so much longer that Arik Kislin could be minimized? Inquiring minds want to know. Loveman fumed, understandably, about not being able to make Caesars’ case to the MGC nor being allowed to cure the company’s perceived deficiencies. (Although, Gansevoort aside, that would have been difficult to do.) However, the reason he didn’t get that chance is because Fields gave Caesars the heave-ho. Where’s the outrage at Suffolk Downs’ ownership, they who sent Caesars packing?
This isn’t the first time Loveman has pitched a fit with regard to regulation. He formerly called undergoing Nevada scrutiny the worst experience of his life, remarks he later had to publicly recant. But, coming from someone who’s formerly had to sit through faculty department meetings for a living, for regulation to be a worse experience says a lot.
A slot machine designed for rats could bring us closer to a prescription treatment for pathological gambling.
