Columnist Jon Ralston: A trickle-up system of juice

Friday, April 6, 2001 | 4:52 a.m.

Jon Ralston hosts the public affairs program "Face to Face" on Las Vegas ONE and also publishes the Ralston Report. His column for the Sun appears on Sundays and Wednesdays. Ralston can be reached at 870-7997 or by e-mail at ralston@ vegas.com

HOW INEFFECTUAL, phony and pernicious was the perversion of public policy known as the Neighborhood Casino Law of 1997?

First, it didn't do what the Gang of 63, collaborating with local governments, claimed it would do: Stop the proliferation of establishments outside the Strip and downtown. The 1997 law was written by gaming lobbyists, and a number of specific properties were given grandfathered sites unaffected by the bill. Thus have these casinos continued to metastasize as handcuffed and/or compliant local governments have made it happen.

More importantly, though, as a recent decision illustrates, the Legislature has created a situation through one section of the law that is ripe for political mischief and allows an appointed state body to overrule an elected local government.

Worst of all, as the recent North Las Vegas casino controversy highlights, the law has now created a trickle-up system of juice, where lobbyists and consultants must focus their efforts not just on gaining local government approvals but on a panel headed by the state's chief casino regulators -- thus raising a devastating specter that ultimately could threaten the gaming control system's reputation for probity.

This is brought to mind by the March 27 decision by a panel nobody has heard of -- the state Gaming Policy Committee -- to overturn a unanimous North Las Vegas City Council ruling in favor of a proposed casino near Craig Ranch Golf Course.

The panel is made up of Gaming Commission Chairman Brian Sandoval, Gaming Control Board Chairman Dennis Neilander and three lay members. Now can anyone think of a good reason why a panel, three members of which are from Northern Nevada, should dictate zoning decisions in Las Vegas? Of course not. But this is the same Legislature that checked its collective spine at Nevada Resort Association headquarters and allowed various sites to be exempted as the measure was amended -- including one site in North Las Vegas that is manifestly unsuitable for a casino.

The developers of the project, Las Vegas Gaming, moved to another site, which the council approved and the policy committee rejected, that is better but still not right for a casino.

It is after the March 27 vote, though, that the story gets interesting -- and raises even more disturbing questions about the process. The project had ample juice when it went through the North Las Vegas City Council -- Steve Wark, a close adviser to Mayor Mike Montandon and active in that city's politics, helped shepherd it through for Station Casinos. Las Vegas Gaming, which wants to sell the property to Station Casinos, is represented by well-known consultant Sig Rogich.

Shortly after the March 27 policy committee rejection vote, Sandoval called Neilander. "Brian was upset," Neilander recalled. "He said he was getting flak about the policy committee vote."

That flak, it turns out, was coming from Rogich, who was furious about the decision and called the Gaming Commission chairman. Sandoval, apparently shaken after the conversation, told people that Rogich not only called the vote a terrible public policy move but one that would hurt the potential attorney general candidate's political career.

Sandoval confirmed the conversation with Rogich took place but would not discuss details. Rogich acknowledged he was angry, but denied he had threatened Sandoval, whom he considers a personal friend.

After the call with Sandoval, Rogich tried to contact Neilander, but they didn't connect. Rogich then talked to Montandon and asked him to call Sandoval, which His Honor did. "I told Brian, 'If you want to govern North Las Vegas, then move here and govern North Las Vegas.' "

Rogich mentioned the brouhaha to Gov. Kenny Guinn, whom he helped anoint, last week over lunch. But a Guinn spokesman said Rogich did not lobby the governor and it was the first Guinn had heard of the matter.

But consider how this looks: The governor's consultant and the state's top fund-raiser, as well as a mayor, call the chairman of the Gaming Commission to try to change his mind about a local casino zoning issue.

With all kinds of extra-Nevada threats from zealots and politicians, how does it look if the state's gaming apparatus appears to be susceptible to political influences?

It's a natural extension of these kinds of decisions, which should never happen in the first place because the policy panel intervention should be excised from the law. But that is what the Gang of 63 wrought with its disingenuous neighborhood casino law -- a state appointive panel overriding local control and a trickle-up system of juice.