Mr. Mayor, you are now on the clock

Why does it feel as if Macon has been here before?

Through neglect, miscommunication or other means, Macon has lost something positive that defined this city. Like the the departure of the Macon Braves 14 years ago, the loss of the GHSA basketball championships after more than six decades was something that city leaders could have prevented. Yet through inaction, or in this case action that came too little, too late, Maconites are left to ponder how their city messed up again as a major piece of the city’s entertainment scene departs.

It’s almost a sporting event in itself to watch the reaction to something like this. Macon leaders drop the ball. Event organizers, frustrated with the city, leave for greener pastures. And then the mud flies as Maconites assess blame to the city leaders they believe caused the failure, only to see the same city leaders stand for election over and over with few (if any) new choices coming into the mix.

That invective you noticed in the tax commissioner’s race, C. Jack Ellis? Well deserved. I wasn’t around Macon when the Braves left, but you were in the mayor’s seat. When it came to getting a stadium project done, while others might have muddied things up, the buck stopped with you. I’d blame you for the departure of ECHL hockey and the Macon Whoopee, too, but that had more to do with the ECHL wanting to get out of smaller markets in the South in favor of a national footprint rather than any shortcomings Macon had.

Heck, in theory at least, some of the blame could lay at your feet for the GHSA’s departure. It was under your administration that Noble Investment Group, later to become Interstate Hotels, was awarded a management contract for the Coliseum. You also had that new entryway built, with such a big deal made about the “M” on the front door, but very little was done with the actual arena bowl itself.

The Ellis administration, however, ended in 2007. Robert Reichert has been the mayor since then. His administration had nine years to address the GHSA’s issues.

A few things at the Coliseum were taken care of during those nine years. The seats were replaced, which was something that absolutely had to be done. A new basketball scoreboard was installed to replace one that was outdated by more than 20 years, although the new scoreboard was very basic, not much more than what you would find in a high school, and lacked the penalty timing capability needed for hockey — something that became an issue when the SPHL’s Mayhem moved in last fall.

In the end, however, the city — later the merged city-county commission — was simply putting bandages on an old building. The Coliseum is nearing 50 years old, and it needs a lot of work. Add to that the inability to take care of things like connectivity, customer service and parking, it’s no surprise that the state basketball finals are leaving.

Sure, the county ditched Interstate Hotels earlier this year and rebid the management contract to Spectra, a well-respected arena management firm. That move was in the works even before this year’s state finals. But the well-publicized basket issue crystallized the ongoing issues with the Coliseum, and that forced the GHSA’s hand, never mind how the organization botched the handling of the incident.

This time, the buck stops with Reichert. The question is, how will the city — and, by definition, the county — respond under his leadership?

This is the second time Reichert has faced a situation like this. The closing of the Georgia Music Hall of Fame delivered a similar blow early in Reichert’s administration. I’m not counting the departure of the Georgia State Fair, which had been eclipsed by the Georgia National Fair and, to a lesser extent, the Cherry Blossom Festival in the final years of its run at Central City Park.

To Reichert’s credit, the music hall’s closure did not leave a big, empty building in the middle of downtown. He helped facilitate the transformation of the building into a new use, getting a deal done with Mercer’s medical school.

Faced with having to make lemonade out of lemons again, Reichert’s administration has some choices to make.

One thought is to fight to bring the state finals back to Macon. The city, however, now holds a much weaker hand now that the finals have departed. It likely will take a multi-million dollar overhaul of the Coliseum to get the finals back, if not demolition and the construction of a new arena that seats at least 8,000 for basketball. Unless Macon wants to put in a bid for an NBA D-League team — especially one that would be tied to the Atlanta Hawks, a franchise that doesn’t have a dedicated D-League team at the moment — it might not be worth the investment.

Another thought is to keep the Coliseum serviceable for concerts, the Mayhem and the GHSA wrestling finals while concentrating efforts on bringing an affiliated minor-league baseball team to town. A good bit of groundwork regarding baseball has already been done. A new downtown stadium, which would be absolutely essential to such an effort, is part of the plan. We don’t know if it will work out, but give Reichert and his staff credit for the effort.

Considering the work that needs to be done around the city, from projects at the Grand Opera House and City Auditorium to road work to blight remediation and parks, it’s unlikely that both a baseball stadium and a Coliseum overhaul could be taken care of together through the upcoming SPLOST measure that will come up for a vote.

The county, under Reichert’s leadership, is going to have to make an investment in either the Coliseum or the baseball project. Macon’s athletics facilities, from the Coliseum and Luther Williams Field to the two county-owned high school football stadiums, aren’t in good shape ... and that’s being charitable.

Much of Reichert’s work the past nine years has dealt with cleaning up the messes that years of neglect brought to this city. In several areas, especially in the areas of downtown redevelopment and the relationship with a Mercer campus that is booming, he has done an excellent job. But now, because of a long-ticking time bomb that exploded in the form of the GHSA basketball finals, sports facilities are now on the front burner.

Mayor Reichert, you are now on the clock.

This story was originally published May 27, 2016 at 9:49 PM with the headline "Mr. Mayor, you are now on the clock."