This "net benefit" business is so complex that the liberated e-mails list CC's to more than 40 lawyers poring over the agreement. Brodsky has his own analysis: "It is a form of nonsense that is hard to compete with," he says. "They are hiding the truth in a lot of this stuff. They have cooked the assessment of the value of the real property. They have gotten themselves a free luxury suite. And these are their priorities."
The stadium's true costs to the public are a moving target. Geoffrey Croft, who heads New York City Park Advocates, estimates that the city is on the hook for $300 million for infrastructure and new parks to replace the huge slices of Macombs Dam Park and Mullaly Park that were seized for the new stadium. The city has pledged to provide new parkland, but much of it is far away. "It is a complete farce that they are replacing what they took," says Croft.
The day before the vote, there will be a public hearing on the matter. Croft's group, and the ever-vigilant Good Jobs New York, which has watchdogged the stadium deal from the beginning, will turn out troops. But the mayor's panel is a stacked deck, and stadium foes might consider instead a dramatic reading of the official e-mail exchanges, which have not yet seen the light of day, like this one between the ubiquitous Pinsky from the Economic Development Corporation and the lead lawyer for the Yankees after they settled their fight over the free stadium suite and food: "You're invited to Opening Day in 2009," writes the attorney.
"Yes, I think I'll be sitting in a box seat!" responds the ecstatic Bloomberg man.