RICKAMAVEN
Thursday, February 5, 2004 4:09:00 AM
How George W. Bush Scored Big With the Texas Rangers

Washington, Jan. 18) When George W. Bush first embarked on a deal to buy the Texas Rangers

professional baseball team in 1988, he already had his eye on the governor’s mansion in Austin.

But he knew that to have a shot at winning, he would need better credentials than a string of

unsuccessful oil companies and a failed bid for a seat in the U.S. House of Representatives. In

1989 he told Time magazine, “My biggest liability in Texas is the question, ‘What’s the boy ever

done?’ He could be riding on Daddy’s name.”

But his father’s connections were instrumental in helping Bush overcome that perception. Back in

1973, when the senior George Bush was the chairman of the Republican National Committee,

Bush befriended one of father’s assistants, Karl Rove. Rove cut his teeth alongside the senior

Bush’s chief political strategist, Lee Atwater. Rove would become George W.’s own Atwater,

helping to run his 1978 bid for Congress and laying the groundwork for his 1994 run for governor.

As the Rangers deal got under way, Rove told Bush that baseball was his ticket to the big time. “It

gives him . . . exposure and gives him something that will be easily recalled by people,” Rove said.

Rove’s calculation turned out to be right on the money.

It all began in fall of 1988, when William O. DeWitt Jr., Bush’s partner in a Texas oil-and-gas

exploration company called Spectrum 7, called to let him know that Eddie Chiles, the owner of the

Texas Rangers, was looking for a buyer.

Ueberroth Presses for Deal

Chiles, a family friend who called Bush “Young Pup” when he was a kid, was eager to sell to

Bush. And so Bush and DeWitt quickly assembled a team of investors . They hit a snag when

Peter Ueberroth, then commissioner of Major League Baseball, told them he wouldn’t approve the

sale without more investors from Texas. Ueberroth believed that local owners would be less likely

to relocate the team. The commissioner, a GOP donor himself, wanted the deal approved before

his term expired at the end of 1989, and so he and then-American League president Bobby Brown

took it on themselves to line up Fort Worth financier Richard E. Rainwater.

Rainwater and Bush weren’t exactly strangers. Rainwater was a contributor to his father’s

presidential campaigns and, later, an overnight guest in the Bush White House. Until 1986, he

was the chief money manager for the Bass brothers, Fort Worth billionaires who financed drilling

in Bahrain by the Harken Energy Corp., a company that in 1986 had bought out Spectrum 7, one

of Bush’s oil companies.

By 1988, Rainwater was managing his own fortune. He agreed to put money in the Rangers, but

only if his trusted associate, Edward “Rusty” Rose, was installed as general managing partner

along with Bush.

With this arrangement in place, Bush and his partners bought the team from Chiles on April 21,

1989, for $86 million. To scrape together his $500,000 stake in the Rangers, Bush borrowed the

money from a bank in Midland where he once was a director. He owned 1.8 percent of the

Rangers. (He later invested an additional $106,302).

Bush made up for his minor stake by taking more than his share of credit for bringing the owners

together. “I wasn’t going to let this deal fail,” he said last year. “I wanted to put together the group.

I was tenacious.”

Others close to the deal paint a different picture.

“George W. Bush deserves great credit for the development of the franchise,” Ueberroth said.

“However, the bringing together of the buying group was the result of Richard Rainwater, Rusty

Rose, Dr. Bobby Brown, and the commissioner.”

Bush Gets Another 10 Percent

Nonetheless, Bush’s partners rewarded him by upping his ownership stake in the Rangers, giving

him another 10 percent of the team.

“He had a well-known name, and that created interest in the franchise,” Tom Schieffer, the

Rangers’ former president, said last year. “It gave us a little celebrity.”

Usually parked in a front-row seat by the dugout, with his feet up and a bag of peanuts perched in

his lap, Bush put a congenial face on a crooked deal, at the heart of which lay a complicated land

play.

When they bought the team, the Rangers were playing in an old minor-league stadium. It didn’t

have the fancy sky boxes and other amenities that helped make other franchises much more

profitable. As a result, the team couldn’t compete with other big-city teams for good players. But

the new owners weren’t willing to finance the construction of a new ballpark. They decided to hit

up taxpayers for the money.

First, the new owners threatened to move the team out of Arlington, Texas, sending local officials

scurrying to put together a deal they couldn’t refuse. Under the resulting agreement, the taxpayers

of Arlington would raise $135 million, the bulk of the cost of construction, through a hike in sales

taxes. During a campaign to sell the sales tax increase to Arlington voters, then-mayor Richard

Greene said the team owners would put $50 million of their own money into the deal up front. It

didn’t quite work out that way; the owners raised a hefty portion of their down payment from fans,

through a one dollar surcharge on tickets.

Sales Tax Hike Approved

The city spent $150,000 on an advertising campaign to persuade voters. Opponents of the deal

couldn’t compete with glossy brochures, telemarketing calls, and a “Hands Around Arlington Day.”

On Jan. 19, 1991, citizens of Arlington voted two-to-one to approve a sales-tax increase dedicated

to building the new park.

Between the sales-tax revenue, state tax exemptions and other financial incentives, Texas

taxpayers handed the privately owned Rangers more than $200 million in public subsidies.

Taxpayers didn’t get a return from the stadium’s surging new revenues, either. The profits went

almost exclusively to the team’s already wealthy owners.

The stadium’s lease is a case in point. Unlike an apartment tenant, the rent that the team’s

owners pay is applied toward purchasing the stadium. The maximum yearly rent and maintenence

fees for the Rangers are $5 million; the total purchase price for the Ballpark at Arlington is $60

million. Thus, after 12 years the owners will have bought the stadium for less than half of what

taxpayers spent on it.

But Bush and his partners weren’t satisfied lining their pockets with average Texans’ hard-earned

cash. They wanted land around the stadium to further boost its value. To that end, they

orchestrated a land grab that shortchanged local landowners by several million dollars.

As part of the deal, the city created a separate corporation, the Arlington Sports Facilities

Development Authority, to manage construction. Using authority granted to it by the city, the

ASFDA seized several tracts of land around the stadium site for parking and future development.

Puppet for Bush, Partners

While on paper the Arlington Sports Facilities Development Authority was a public entity, in

practice it was merely a puppet for Bush and his partners. According to documents obtained by

the Center for Public Integrity, the owners would identify the land they wanted to acquire. A

Rangers owner, Mike Reilly, a Realtor, would then offer to buy the parcels for prices he set, which

in several cases were well below what the owners believed their property was worth. If the

landowners refused to sell to the Rangers at the offered price, the Arlington Sports Facilities

Development Authority could take possession of their land and leave the price to be determined in

court.

Several of the landowners took the authority to court over the seizures and won settlements

totaling $11 million. In a final insult to taxpayers, the Rangers resisted paying the settlements,

trying to pass off yet another cost to Arlington residents. (The Rangers, under new ownership,

finally agreed to pay up last year.)

When confronted with the seamy details of the land grab, Bush professed ignorance. But

Schieffer, the team’s former president, has testified that he kept Bush aware of the land transfers.

In October 1990, Bush also let this slip to a reporter for the Fort Worth Star-Telegram: “The idea

of making a land play, absolutely, to plunk the field down in the middle of a big piece of land, that’s

kind of always been the strategy.”

It was a strategy that would have an enormous payoff for Bush personally.

After he became governor of Texas, Bush put his all of his assets into a blind trust, with one

notable exception: his stake in the Rangers. Schieffer kept Bush apprised of the owner’s efforts to

sell the team to Thomas O. Hicks, the chairman of Hicks, Muse, Tate and Furst, Inc., a firm that

specializes in leveraged buyouts and until recently owned AMFM, Inc., the nation’s largest chain

of radio stations. Hicks and employees of his companies are Bush’s No. 4 career patron, having

given him at least $290,400.

25-Fold Return on Investment

In 1998, Hicks helped provide Bush with an even greater windfall. He bought the Texas Rangers

for $250 million, three times what Bush and his partners had paid 10 years earlier. The new

stadium and the real estate around it greatly boosted the final sale price. And, since his partners

had upped Bush’s stake in the team from 1.8 to 11.8 percent, his cut from the proceeds of the

sale was $14.9 million, a 25-fold return on his investment of $606,302. Rainwater, who had put far

more money into the team than Bush, made $25 million.

Just as important as the cash, however, was the cachet that came with the deal’s success. The

Ballpark at Arlington finally opened in April 1994, just as Bush was running for governor. He touted

the new stadium as a win-win proposition for taxpayers and the team. “Am I going to benefit off it

financially?” he asked reporters. He answered his own question: “I hope so.” Four years later,

everyone would know by how much.

eleltea
Thursday, February 5, 2004 6:02:00 AM
How I long for the good old days when we had Bill Clinton to kick around.
Charlie
Thursday, February 5, 2004 6:22:00 AM
What ever happened to Monica Lewinsky!?!?

Charlie

Homebrew
Thursday, February 5, 2004 7:21:00 AM
Hmmmm,

Sounds like Bushs' version of "Whitewater".

Later

Dave (A.K.A. Homebrew)

xibbumbero
Thursday, February 5, 2004 7:30:00 AM
LLT,Not to worry,some people here blame him for everything that happened before he took office to everything that's happened since dubya has taken office,LOL. X
Charlie
Thursday, February 5, 2004 7:45:00 AM
He is even being blamed for Mrs O'Leary's cow kicking over the lamp and starting the great Chicago fire!

Charlie

JonR
Thursday, February 5, 2004 7:49:00 AM
Not to mention because of all of GWs astute financial dealings, poor little rickamaven had to morgage his house in 2004. BAWAWAWAH JonR
DrMaddVibe
Thursday, February 5, 2004 7:56:00 AM
I'm sure you missed this one....

ONE of the surest ways to get the phones ringing on any Massachusetts talk-radio show is to ask people to call in and tell their John Kerry stories. The phone lines are soon filled, and most of the stories have a common theme: our junior senator pulling rank on one of his constituents, breaking in line, demanding to pay less (or nothing) or ducking out before the bill arrives.

The tales often have one other common thread. Most end with Sen. Kerry inquiring of the lesser mortal: "Do you know who I am?"

And now he's running for president as a populist. His first wife came from a Philadelphia Main Line family worth $300 million. His second wife is a pickle-and-ketchup heiress.

Kerry lives in a mansion on Beacon Hill on which he has borrowed $6 million to finance his campaign. A fire hydrant that prevented him and his wife from parking their SUV in front of their tony digs was removed by the city of Boston at his behest.

The Kerrys ski at a spa the widow Heinz owns in Aspen, and they summer on Nantucket in a sprawling seaside "cottage" on Hurlbert Avenue, which is so well-appointed that at a recent fund-raiser, they imported porta-toilets onto the front lawn so the donors wouldn't use the inside bathrooms. (They later claimed the decision was made on septic, not social, considerations).

It's a wonderful life these days for John Kerry. He sails Nantucket Sound in "the Scaramouche," a 42-foot Hinckley powerboat. Martha Stewart has a similar boat; the no-frills model reportedly starts at $695,000. Sen. Kerry bought it new, for cash.

Every Tuesday night, the local politicians here that Kerry elbowed out of his way on his march to the top watch, fascinated, as he claims victory in more primaries and denounces the special interests, the "millionaires" and "the overprivileged."

"His initials are JFK," longtime state Senate President William M. Bulger used to muse on St. Patrick's Day, "Just for Kerry. He's only Irish every sixth year." And now it turns out that he's not Irish at all.

But in the parochial world of Bay State politics, he was never really seen as Irish, even when he was claiming to be (although now, of course, he says that any references to his alleged Hibernian heritage were mistakenly put into the Congressional Record by an aide who apparently didn't know that on his paternal side he is, in fact, part-Jewish).

Kerry is, in fact, a Brahmin - his mother was a Forbes, from one of Massachusetts' oldest WASP families. The ancestor who wed Ralph Waldo Emerson's daughter was marrying down.

At the risk of engaging in ethnic stereotyping, Yankees have a reputation for, shall we say, frugality. And Kerry tosses around quarters like they were manhole covers. In 1993, for instance, living on a senator's salary of about $100,000, he managed to give a total of $135 to charity.

Yet that same year, he was somehow able to scrape together $8,600 for a brand-new, imported Italian motorcycle, a Ducati Paso 907 IE. He kept it for years, until he decided to run for president, at which time he traded it in for a Harley-Davidson like the one he rode onto "The Tonight Show" set a couple of months ago as Jay Leno applauded his fellow Bay Stater.

Of course, in 1993 he was between his first and second heiresses - a time he now calls "the wandering years," although an equally apt description might be "the freeloading years."

For some of the time, he was, for all practical purposes, homeless. His friends allowed him into a real-estate deal in which he flipped a condo for quick resale, netting a $21,000 profit on a cash investment of exactly nothing. For months he rode around in a new car supplied by a shady local Buick dealer. When the dealer's ties to a congressman who was later indicted for racketeering were exposed, Kerry quickly explained that the non-payment was a mere oversight, and wrote out a check.

In the Senate, his record of his constituent services has been lackluster, and most of his colleagues, despite their public support, are hard-pressed to list an accomplishment. Just last fall, a Boston TV reporter ambushed three congressmen with the question, name something John Kerry has accomplished in Congress. After a few nervous giggles, two could think of nothing, and a third mentioned a baseball field, and then misidentified Kerry as "Sen. Kennedy."

Many of his constituents see him in person only when he is cutting them in line - at an airport, a clam shack or the Registry of Motor Vehicles. One talk-show caller a few weeks back recalled standing behind a police barricade in 2002 as the Rolling Stones played the Orpheum Theater, a short limousine ride from Kerry's Louisburg Square mansion.

The caller, Jay, said he began heckling Kerry and his wife as they attempted to enter the theater. Finally, he said, the senator turned to him and asked him the eternal question.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yeah," said Jay. "You're a gold-digger."

John Kerry. First he looks at the purse.

Howie Carr, a Boston Herald columnist and syndicated talk-radio host, has been covering John Kerry for 25 years.

RICKAMAVEN
Thursday, February 5, 2004 9:17:00 AM
JonR

you have a good memory, but a bad memory.

perhaps i neglected to mention, i didn't mortgage the house for a bunch of money, because i had to.

i read somewhere that you can't take it with you. that being the case, i chose to spend it before i go.