Gambling breaks point to campaign

DYCKMAN E-mail: Click here Archive

By MARTIN DYCKMAN

© St. Petersburg Times, published May 14, 2000

It isn't hard, really.

Florida's race tracks and jai alai frontons are among the most frequent and generous political contributors to election campaigns. Candidates and parties reported more than $1.1-million from the parimutuels for the 1998 elections, and more than $460,000 since.

The Republican Party's soft money haul from parimutuels was notably stupendous: nearly $400,000.

So when the Legislature gave a parting gift of $20-million in tax breaks to the parimutuels -- most of it to the dog tracks -- they turned a very respectable profit on their investment.

But an even better question is how they propose to spend it.

Without fanfare, which they didn't want, two affiliated dog tracks, West Flagler and Hollywood Greyhound, put $100,000 into a new campaign committee on March 8.

The committee, which had been registered with the secretary of state on Jan. 24, calls itself Floridians for a Level Playing Field. The document said the committee would be supporting a "statewide referendum for gaming (sic) by county option at parimutuel facilities."

"Gaming" means gambling, by the way. They think that dropping two letters takes the stink out of it.

There's the proof of the rumor I reported last month, when West Flagler lobbyist Ronnie Book confirmed that something might be up but that it was too early to talk about it. By then, the committee had already paid out $45,000 to a Washington polling firm, according to its March 31 report.

The signs continue to point to an initiative campaign that would either give the tracks an outright monopoly on casino gambling -- like the one 62 percent of the voters turned down six years ago -- or condition it to whatever Interior Secretary Bruce Babbitt, an ex-good guy, agrees to let the Seminoles do if a pending lawsuit by the state doesn't stop him.

Either way, the tracks would figure on a swift, stealthy campaign to have a bundle of signatures in the bank before No Casinos Inc., and other opponents had a chance to mobilize. If gathering at least 435,329 valid signatures by an early August deadline sounds daunting, it becomes a lot easier when you're willing to pay solicitors up to $3 a name, as some of the promoters did during Florida's three previous unsuccessful casino initiatives.

To those who still oppose casinos in any form, the phrase "county option" is particularly ominous. That was the key to an initiative campaign in which the Bally Entertainment Corp. had invested $3.6-million before calling it off two years ago for fear, or so they said, that voters would say "no!" yet again.

But by then, the Florida Supreme Court had approved the amendment for the ballot and Bally had nearly all the necessary signatures in hand.

The proposal the court found fit for the ballot did not -- I repeat -- did not stipulate a local referendum for any subsequent county option. The option was to have been exercised by county and city commissions, not by their voters. As such commissions have on occasion been corruptible, it is not a pleasant thought.

Should petitions circulate, don't listen to what the solicitor says. Read the fine print.

During the 1994 campaign, when several casino petitions were circulating, one of the professional solicitors was working the crowd at a seafood festival in north Florida. Everybody but me seemed to be signing. I said I detested casinos. He was prepared for that.

"If you're against casinos you should sign our petition," he said. "This doesn't allow them where voters don't approve."

In fact, they were (and are) already disallowed everywhere within the reach of Florida law, but it wasn't in the solicitor's interest to admit that.

It is hard to find anyone outside the dog track business who doesn't think they would be wasting their money to sponsor another initiative. While it's true that voters can be worn down over time, the 1994 proposition still lost by nearly two to one, and it suffered from the same glaring defect that would draw lightning to the new one: a special deal for a special interest that would monopolize the casino licenses.

But remember that $20-million tax break the Legislature just voted. That would buy a lot of signatures and campaign propaganda.

There is a case for the tax break. Parimutuels are a declining industry.

The case looks a lot less persuasive, however, if any of that $20-million is destined to pay for a casino campaign.

If I were Jeb Bush, here's what I would do about that.

I'd ring up West Flagler, ask for boss man Daniel K. Adkins, who chairs Floridians for a Level Playing Field, and I'd tell him something like this:

"Speaking of that $20-million tax break you folks lobbied for, I have the bill on my desk, right next to the veto message I had my staff draft. Which one do I sign, Mr. Adkins? You don't really want casinos, do you?"

© St. Petersburg Times. All rights reserved.