That's the conclusion reached by the Motley Fool's Jeff Hwang, who reports on depredations inflicted upon Horseshoe Tunica, possibly undoing much of the brand equity created by Jack Binion. Even though the Texas Pacific/Apollo Management buyout hasn't gone through, Harrah's continues to behave as though it were a done deal. It's enough to make me believe the reports we got at the Business Press (but couldn't confirm) that Texas Pacific had installed a group of bean counters in the Augustus Tower at Caesars Palace and it was they who were calling the shots.
In other news, Hwang is as underwhelmed by Barry Sternlicht's latest buyout offer for the Riviera as were some of its shareholders. Bad timing by Sternlicht to come in with a new offer after Phil Ruffin had confirmed (then rejected) a $1.2 billion offer for the smoky old New Frontier. Also, trying to stampede the Riviera board by presenting them with a take-it-or-leave-it ultimatum, effective today, was probably a bad idea.
And the obvious question about this farce is still left begging: If Riviera shareholders were lucky to get $17 a share last summer (as Sternlicht's group told them), then why are those shares suddenly worth $27 apiece now? Methinks Sternlicht & Co. need to stop treating RIV shareholders like naive children.
Trop talk. The value ascribed to the Las Vegas Tropicana's land is reaching urban-legend proportions. During the dizzying bidding and counter-bidding by Pinnacle Entertainment and eventual winner Columbia Entertainment, I heard valuations of $20 million an acre, later $25 million assigned to it. After the sale, some analysts engaged in a bit of revisionist history, giving it a $30 million-an-acre price tag. Now, people are starting to talk in terms of $35 million an acre.
So what's the Tropicana Atlantic City? Chopped liver? While Aztar Corp. was still running the show, the A.C. Trop accounted for more cash flow — far more — than any other Aztar casino. While there might be theoretical, unrealized value underlying the L.V. Trop, it remains one of the Strip's underachievers.
Which reminds me that I'm due to attend the 50th anniversary celebration of the Vegas Tropicana tomorrow night. Kinda odd to be throwing a 50th birthday bash if, as Columbia Entertainment CEO William Yung III is planning, you're on the verge of imploding the old gal.
The place began humbly enough, with 300 hotel rooms (now the bare minimum, under Nevada law), quite a contrast to the 10,224-unit monstrosity Yung is planning to build in place of Ye Olde Trop. Columbia's PR people are calling it an "expansion and renovation." That's a bit like saying we've expanded and renovated downtown Baghdad.
Aztar kind of let the place go to hell in recent years, but hurry on over and enjoy the "five-acre tropical garden oasis with three swimming pools and whirlpools, cascading waterfalls and lush foliage" before Yung mulches them into a distant memory. Ditto the barrel-vaulted, stained-glass ceiling in the casino. It's all well and good to call the Tropicana the "Tiffany of the Strip." Too bad it's now being run like a Wal-Mart.
A Faceful of Dust: The scuttlebutt item of the week concerns the recent implosion of the Stardust Resort & Casino. Thoughtfully, officials of Boyd Gaming provided facemasks for guests. But, so the story goes, they forgot to supply goggles. Se non e ver, e ben trovato. (If it's not true, it should be.)
