Columnist Jeff German: Goodman can’t be serious about entering mayor’s race

Tuesday, Feb. 16, 1999 | 10:52 a.m.

Those who still don't believe the mob has abandoned the Strip should look to the career change contemplated by one of the biggest mob lawyers in the country.

For the past dozen years or so, Oscar Goodman has flirted with the idea of stepping down from his perch atop the criminal defense bar to enter the world of politics.

It seems as though every election year, Goodman announces he's considering a bid for mayor, lieutenant governor or governor. And every election year he comes to his senses and decides to stay in the profession that made him famous.

This continuing midlife crisis was prompted by the Justice Department's successful campaign in the 1980s that broke the mob's grip on Las Vegas casinos and sent its ranking bosses, many of them Goodman's clients, to federal prison.

One such client, Nick Civella, the late boss of the Kansas City Mafia, had given Goodman so much work during the federal crackdown that Goodman became just as well known in the Kansas City area as in Las Vegas.

Word about Goodman's courtroom exploits on behalf of the mob also spread as far away as Chicago, Philadelphia and New York. He once nearly landed a job representing the boss of bosses, John Gotti, the now-jailed head of New York's ruthless Gambino crime family.

But as the feds kept up the heat, Goodman slowly lost his mob client base. Civella went to jail, Chicago underworld kingpin Anthony Spilotro was murdered, and ex-casino boss Frank Rosenthal left town after surviving a car bombing. Another wise guy Goodman had counseled on occasion, admitted killer Frank Cullotta, rolled over and joined the government crusade.

Through it all, Goodman continued to play the role of the loyal mob lawyer, espousing the party line that there was no such thing as organized crime.

A few years ago, however, he came clean. At a bash celebrating his 25 years in practice, Goodman passed out T-shirts that called his refusal to acknowledge the mob's existence "the greatest lie of the 20th century."

But by that time, the mob had pretty much given up on the Strip.

Since those days, Goodman has returned to a quieter, normal life as a defense lawyer, occasionally representing a local hood, but mostly defending drug dealers and white-collar criminals who don't attract headlines.

He took a stab at acting, playing himself in Martin Scorsese's hit movie, "Casino."

But for the most part, though he denies it, Goodman has been bored with the mellow approach to practicing law. He sees politics as a way to pump up his ego again and re-channel lost energies.

And so it comes as no surprise that Goodman says he's thinking once more about running for mayor.

"Life is short," Goodman says. "We should have a good time. I'm going to win if I run. The public is tired of the politicians."

His motivation comes from last week's decision by Las Vegas Mayor Jan Laverty Jones not to seek a third term. The race now is up for grabs, and Goodman figures he has just as good a chance as anybody.

In today's political arena, when a professional wrestler can be elected governor of Minnesota, anything is indeed possible.

But is Goodman being realistic in his case?

How can a defense attorney who's used to winning acquittals for mobsters and murderers expect to persuade the voters he's tough on crime, one of the biggest issues facing city residents?

Even if Goodman offers some fresh ideas, the voters can't help but view his candidacy with skepticism.

Image, you see, is everything in politics.

Some believe his presence in the mayor's race would be a major public relations setback for Las Vegas, which spent years overcoming the perception it was dominated by organized crime.

The television networks would go crazy with this story. It would provide the city's detractors with the ammunition they've been waiting for in their campaign against legalized gambling across America.

You can't knock a guy for looking for more challenges in life. But you have to wonder whether Goodman is looking in the right place.

In the legal profession, Goodman is at the top of his game. He's in the mainstream. But in politics, he'd be a fringe player, just another sideshow in a mayor's race that already promises to be entertaining with the king of the fringe candidates, Aaron Russo, and Steve Miller, expecting to launch bids.

Why would Goodman want to ruin a hard-earned reputation that took him years to achieve simply because he misses being in the headlines?

Goodman knows the risks of entering politics. His friends have had this conversation with him over the years every time he has gotten restless.

Every time, he has come to his senses.