Consider it shaken

Thursday, Aug. 10, 2006 | 7:33 a.m.

Politicians outnumbered chairs at a Chinese restaurant on Spring Mountain Road on Saturday, where a free lunch-and-stump affair found waiters pushing food carts among candidates who came to deliver speeches capped at 60 seconds.

It was, quite simply, a cattle call to arms.

When his turn came, Doug Gillespie stood with a hand in the pocket of his casual black trousers and told the audience - members of an Asian-American organization - that he has spent the past 25 years protecting their families. With his white sneakers firmly planted, Gillespie, the current undersheriff, spoke plainly as he told them he looked forward to the crowd's support, almost as though it were a sure thing.

Then Jerry Airola stood up. Airola, who earlier that morning had seen his business practices filleted in two prominent newspaper articles detailing lawsuits against him, faced the crowd in a shirt and tie, a sharp part in his hair and an even sharper smile.

"I'm Jerry Airola," he said by way of introduction. "I'm the first name on the ballot and I'm the first name in the newspaper."

The audience laughed - enthusiastically - at his joke.

It was only two minutes of talk in a crowded restaurant, but almost the entire sheriff's race in a nutshell: Doug Gillespie, a candidate the casino industry put chips on, the anointed replacement of Sheriff Bill Young, versus Jerry Airola, a quick-talking millionaire who's drenched the campaign battleground with TV commercials, posters and leaflets of his smiling, self-funded face.

Political insiders, experts and pollsters agree the race has come down to these two men, and that Gillespie's greatest foe isn't Airola, but Airola's bank account.

"Any time you have this kind of money, you're going to be a force," said Kent Oram, a Gillespie campaign adviser. "Normally, money wins these races."

According to campaign finance reports filed this week, Airola has spent about $1.7 million, the lion's share of it his own and most of it on TV advertising. Gillespie reported spending just over $600,000. More than half of his war chest came from casino connections and the lion's share of it also was spent on advertising.

Ryan Erwin, a political consultant with no dog in this fight, thinks even the negative stories about Airola may not be enough to derail his chances. Those stories questioned Airola's law enforcement credentials - he was fired from one small-town force in California and served as a reserve in another - and laid out numerous lawsuits brought against his companies, Silver State Helicopters and a water purification business.

"We still live in a community and a state, for that matter, where it's relatively inexpensive to get well known, so a candidate who is a self-funder with a lot of money behind him can do a lot if he spends it wisely and overcomes some hurdles," Erwin said. "Money can buy a lot of talent, frankly. I wouldn't write off anybody with an unlimited checkbook."

Airola's campaign money bought George Gordon's talent. Gordon is Arnold Schwarzenegger's top political strategist and says that he isn't losing sleep over the negative press. "It might do some damage," Gordon said, "but no, we're not worried."

Valley law enforcement officials are, in a word, freaked. On Tuesday, Young joined representatives from local police unions at a news conference orchestrated solely to get the word out that Airola is their worst nightmare - a faux-cop Young says isn't qualified to be a Metro officer, let alone sheriff.

At the conference, police officials handed out a leaflet entitled, "10 Reasons Not to Vote Airola." But while Young detailed his reasons, a small group of men and women assembled on a street corner outside with its own leaflet. It represented the Airola campaign, and its hand-out lambasted the "old boys' network" that was conspiring to keep its man out of office.

Airola, who has a simple answer for everything, is quick to crow about that network - veteran political consultants who Airola likened to the Mafia for any willing listener last weekend.

"You're going to hear that I'm buying the race," Airola said, eyes locked on an older man who asked the businessman to explain why he was on the cover of the paper that morning. "I'm not buying the race, I'm matching funds, and that scares them. I'm gonna win the election, and the good old boys will finally stop controlling Vegas."

The scrappy, anti-establishment outsider speech wins over a few people every time. And Gillespie's rise to the top of Metro works against him in certain circles, where there is skepticism about a cherry-picked successor to the throne. Privately, political consultants say that what Gillespie lacks in charisma, he makes up for with casino support.

At a candidates forum Tuesday night, Daniel Zimmerman summed up his view of the sheriff's race with a single hand gesture - a face-up palm, squeezing at something invisible - and a statement: "Those guys are all politicians, and the casinos have them like this."

The exception, he said, is Laurie Bisch, a Metro Police officer and the only woman in the race.

A handful of political insiders say that outside of Airola, Bisch may be Gillespie's biggest challenger to make a runoff in November. Bisch, a 12-year Metro officer, single mother and businesswoman, says she has spent about $200,000 campaigning and has rank-and-file support from officers who aren't happy with the status quo.

"You have Gillespie, who is the anointed one, and you have Airola, who's spent millions," Bisch said. "I'm more than hanging in there with them."

In polls Bisch paid for, she said that she's running neck and neck with Gillespie. The undersheriff is struggling, Bisch claims, because citizens are sick of dealing with a poorly managed police department, and police officers are tired of the bureaucratic gap that separates Gillespie from the men on the street.

Despite the endorsement of the Police Protective Association, Gillespie also has to worry about slippage to other candidates with a Metro background.

Retired Deputy Chief Bill Conger has some support with the rank and file and, according to campaign consultants, is the fourth candidate showing momentum in the polls.

Conger's campaign adviser, Steve Redlinger, says Conger is gaining support thanks to his 29 years with Metro, and the fact that "we are not a darling of the special interests."

The biggest question about Conger, however, is an inability to raise much money. His latest campaign finance report shows about $120,000 collected so far.

Assuming, as most political analysts do, that there will be a November runoff and that Airola is one of the two candidates in it, whoever faces him will likely be well funded by the gaming industry.

Mike Sloan, a political operative with ties to the casino industry, says gamers are watching this race closely and will do anything to try to beat Airola.

"A significant amount of money is going to be made available to make sure both candidates are equally vetted," Sloan said. "Money is the milk of politics."

The standing sheriff won't call it guilt, but Young said in an interview with the Sun on Tuesday that he might have done things differently had he seen someone like Airola on the horizon.

"If I had seen this coming," Young said, "I'd have stuck around four more years."

On Wednesday an automated call went out - a recording of Young reiterating his now-familiar plea to support Gillespie and shun Airola.

Gillespie has said that voters who compare his 25-plus years with Metro, his advancement and his law enforcement legacy with Airola's lackluster credentials will make the right choice.

"People are interested in me because of the experience. Once you start talking about the issues, I think you get away from the TV commercial spots and the quick-hit advertising, and people take a hard look at this job and who should become the next sheriff," Gillespie said.

"I won't tell you that I am not nervous, because I am. It's an election, and Mr. Airola has the ability to get a broader message out to the community, he has the ability through his own personal wealth to do that, and I don't. But you don't throw up your hands and say I can't."

Yet many analysts' and consultants' suspicions were confirmed in a small corner of the Chinese restaurant on Saturday, when Las Vegan Guy Mas made his way between Airola and Gillespie, asking questions of each.

Airola told Mas that Metro is a tremendous mess, and that he can fix it. He was short on specifics, but long on verve.

When Mas made his way to Gillespie, he asked what was wrong with the department. Gillespie launched into a quiet, thoughtful discussion about how more officers are needed, and that the key to success was to keep doing what he had been doing since he became undersheriff in 2002 - only better.

Mas said later he had made up his mind: Airola.

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