When we build it, will they come? We’re about to find out with Riverfront Stadium add-ons. | Commentary

In the baseball movie “Field of Dreams”, a mysterious voice comes to Kevin Costner and whispers “If you build it, he will come.” Costner goes out and turns his cornfield into a baseball field, and, sure enough, Shoeless Joe Jackson and bunch of other dead players walk out of the corn, attracting a torrent of visitors to Costner’s farm. It’s a huge success and everybody is happy.

Not so much in the Wichita version, where City Manager Robert Layton whispers in the City Council’s ear, “If you build it, they will come.” In this case, the ball park is the new Riverfront stadium and “they” refers to thousands of tourists from outside of Wichita and Kansas who Layton predicted will flock here to spend money and pay off the $40 million STAR bond debt.

Unfortunately, life did not imitate art in this case, and Layton’s original projections proved to be a fantasy. The expected development around the new ball park never materialized and the city now faces a $40 million bond repayment.

Layton’s latest gambit was presented to the City Council recently, a new version that promises hotels, offices, retail and luxury housing, all made possible by awarding the developers another $11 million in subsidies to assure them of an adequate profit.

But missing from discussion was a recognition of how we got here. It started with Layton’s pipe dream of hordes of out-of-state tourists flocking to a minor league baseball park and its associated amenities like hotels and retail shops. The original estimate — half of what Layton proposed — was backed by a study by a recognized consultant.

Layton doubled the size of the STAR bond debt without validation by the consultant. The result? The anticipated development never happened, and the clock keeps ticking on repaying the STAR bond debt. Default isn’t an option if the city ever expects to borrow money again.

Make no mistake: This latest version is an huge act of desperation. Layton is going to the bullpen for his last relief pitcher, and placing a huge bet that, this time, the developer will be successful and the bond payment can be met.

If not, the repayment burden will fall on local sales and property tax payers, a “minor” detail that even eluded Mayor Brandon Whipple until his favorite critic, Celeste Racette, pointed it out in a past council meeting. Whipple at first declared she was wrong, but was promptly corrected by the city manager. Surprise, surprise.

After hearing details of the new deal from city staff (and a heavy coat of lipstick on this pig), the Council voted 6-1 to press on and hope for the best. The only dissenting vote was from council member Jeff Blubaugh, who essentially said, “Sounds good, but I’m not throwing any more tax money into the pot.” A candidate for County Commission next year, Blubaugh apparently picked up the foul scent of public indignation and decided to head for high ground.

Other council members tried their best to add more lipstick. Bryan Frye said we shouldn’t dwell on past mistakes, and look on the bright side. Mike Hoheisel acknowledged he may pay a political price, but voted for the new plan anyway.

What’s done is done, and even the staunchest critics now have to hope for the best. If the STAR bonds go into default, the city’s credit rating would be seriously damaged, and local citizens would feel impact in future budgets.

Three new faces join the Council in January. Mayor-elect Lily Wu and rookie council members J.V. Johnston and Dalton Glasscock will get their chance to right the ship.

Will they acknowledge the obvious, that Layton has been a disaster in leading the city into bad contracts with the private sector? The list of missteps is impressive: Among them, the Wichita Ice Center debacle, the Ken-Mar shopping center default, the failed attempt to privatize public golf using false revenue numbers.

Ugly as those examples are, they pale in magnitude the Riverfront project, the looming $40 million debt and the new $11 million subsidy.

Maybe we’ll get lucky this time, but apparently, we’re betting on luck over brains. If it fails, we can only hope Shoeless Joe Jackson will arise from the Arkansas River and save the day.

Dale Goter is a former lobbyist for the City of Wichita.