Stanford Gets a Stadium

As always, cash talks best of all
Ray Ratto
Wednesday, June 8, 2005 now part of stylesheet -->
Even given all the giggly self-congratulations emanating from the John Arrillaga Center about Stanford's football stadium plan, there was a problem nobody wanted to face:
Namely, that the new stadium is likely to be obsolete by the time Cal gets its new box, and that could play havoc with Big Game ticket splits.
To more fully understand Stanford's downscaled but shiny new tackle emporium, one needs to understand exactly why it is getting a new stadium.
One, because it has an ATM with feet -- coincidentally, named John Arrillaga.
Two, because Arrillaga can squeeze Susan B. Anthony dollars out of a contractor's ear.
Oh, there are other reasons -- Stanford's average football attendance has been in a pronounced decline for years now, the old stadium is finally out of slivers to put in people's behinds, and 84 years is enough time for anything this side of Winston Churchill. I mean, they cited Pompeii as an influence on the old stadium architecture, which indicates that there might be 2,000-year-old, soot-encased Italians buried beneath the north end scoreboard.
But when you get down to the mere matter of money, Arrillaga and his pals at Vance Brown Building Stuff, Inc., can get the new joint designed and built for $85 million out the door, without bank debt, maybe even by the time the 2006 season begins.
In stadium cost terms, that's pure fast-food prices in fast-food time.
On the other hand, there's the Cal stadium, which is still in the throat- clearing, hemming-and-hawing, "Gee, Jeff, we're going as fast as we can" stage.
As we know, continents have formed in the time it takes Cal to go "as fast as we can."
In Cal's defense (which was absent without leave in the Holiday Bowl, but we digress), its stadium project includes offices, meeting rooms, weight- training and medical facilities. It also sits on an active and potentially twitchy earthquake fault, so $85 million isn't going to cut it. Twice that isn't going to cut it. To do the whole project, think $250M and watch the donors race for their angina medication.
That's the other problem. Stanford athletic director/rich donor extortionist extraordinaire Teddy Leland said the only reason the school announced its stadium plan at all was because details were leaking out; otherwise, "we probably would have waited until we had most of the money already. I mean, they say you should never announce anything until you have at least half the money."
Stanford already has 70 percent of what it needs.
Cal, on the other hand, claims to have $25 million, between 10 and 12 percent of the likely cost of its project, and is still trying to decide on an architect, let alone plans.
While Stanford has been discussing its stadium plan for less than a year, Cal has been on this topic for nearly a decade, through three or four (we forget the number at this point) athletic directors.
In other words, the only things keeping Cal from a new football stadium worthy of its program are (a) money, (b) will, (c) direction and (d) details.
While this has the additional motivation of keeping football coach Jeff Tedford mollified about a new plant, it makes you wonder if Cal couldn't ask to borrow Arrillaga when Stanford is done with him.
Cal has donors, sure, big donors. But the big-daddiest donor, Ned Spieker, reportedly is leery of committing money to a stadium plan he has neither seen nor has had priced. If he won't leap, the story further goes, neither will the other fat-wallets.
In addition, athletic director Sandy Barbour is still trying to overcome some alumni resentment about having gotten the job instead of other candidates (notably Mark Stephens and Dan Coonan, both of whom have left the hill for flatter land and better jobs).
Cal people also will complain about the Berkeley City Council without much provocation, and yes, the townies aren't terribly malleable on this sort of thing. Still, Cal's not moving the franchise to Las Vegas. Berkeley isn't going to become an offshore casino, so maybe more creativity and less bitching is what's needed here.
Besides, with the problems Cal already has with this not-quite-yet-a- project, the city council is about issue No. 9 on the list.
So Cal, with the coach who has been promised a new plant, is still in full-court dither, Stanford, with a coach who would have played on University Avenue to get the job, is making a new yard in record time, and on budget, because of the handy not-to-exceed-this-cost clause in the construction deal.
The lesson: Money on the hoof is good.
The ancillary lesson: You can get decent odds on Stanford expanding its stadium to 80,000 before Cal schedules a ribbon-cutting.
The asterisk: Maybe Tedford will keep Memorial Stadium filled enough to keep people from noticing that it's still Memorial Stadium. A Cal fan can only hope.
And donate.