The Glickman Contract.

Forget “save the Blazers or lose them.”

The Blazers are staying. On March 30, the NBA Board of Governors unanimously approved the sale to Dundon’s group—80.1% closing March 31 at a $4 billion valuation, the remaining 19.9% by September 2028 at $4.5 billion. On March 25, the Board voted to begin the formal expansion process for Las Vegas and Seattle—the only two cities the team could move to. Both are now spoken for. The last attempted relocation was rejected 22–8. Dundon accepted a 20-year lease with relocation penalties in SB 1501. Portland-based co-owner Sheel Tyle told The Athletic: “We are committed to Portland, 100 percent. Full stop.” If that’s true, binding lease terms should be easy to accept.

The real question is not whether Dundon stays. It’s whether he takes our deal or self-funds the renovation.

If he self-funds, he borrows $600 million at ~5.5% and pays about $50 million per year in debt service. Plus he owes Portland $15 million per year in rent—because Portland owns the building. Total cost of going it alone: ~$65 million per year.

So Portland’s leverage is simple. The rent is owed either way—that’s $15 million per year for the right to operate a publicly owned building. On top of that, the public is handing Dundon $871 million for the renovation. In exchange, he pays $49 million per year in capital recovery—naming rights, event revenue, a fixed annual payment—which returns $980 million on the $871 million investment over 20 years. Rent plus capital recovery: $64 million per year. That’s $1 million less than his self-funding cost of $65 million. He saves money. The state, city, and county all earn a positive return on their investment. The Blazers stay. The arena gets renovated. That’s what this page is about.

Why this has to be binding. Now.

Under SB 1501, the lease isn’t between Portland and the Blazers. It’s between a state-controlled joint authority and the Blazers. The state put in $365 million. The city put in ~$100 million upfront. DAS—a state agency—forms and administers the joint authority. Once the city enters, it’s a minority voice at someone else’s table.

The city’s only leverage is the moment before it enters. Section 5(5) requires “binding and substantial commitments” from the city before bonds can issue. That is the one card. The conditions the city attaches to that commitment are, for all practical purposes, the lease terms. After that, it’s out of Portland’s hands.

The Glickman Contract.

Named for Harry Glickman, the Portland native who brought the Blazers to Oregon in 1970 and whose mantra was “my word is my handshake.” Two components. Component A is fair market rent—what Dundon owes for operating the building regardless of who renovates it. Component B is capital recovery—the return the public earns on its $871 million investment. Together they total $64 million per year—$1 million less than self-funding.

Component A: Fair Market Rent — $15M/year

Component B: Capital Recovery — $49M/year

The math.

Dundon saves $1 million per year—$20 million over 20 years. That’s his entire surplus. Just barely sweeter than doing it himself. Not a dollar more.

Protections.

“In Portland?”

On his first day as owner, March 31, 2026, The Athletic asked Dundon why he won’t put any money into the arena. His answer: the 20-year lease commitment is “worth way more than anything else anybody’s gonna do.” When told other owners commit years AND money, he responded with two words:

That’s the tell. He believes Portland will accept terms no other city would. Every other city gets lease terms. Portland gets told that showing up is the favor. The Glickman Contract is the answer: you’re right that showing up has value, Mr. Dundon. And here’s the price.

Why Dundon takes this deal.

He can’t relocate. The NBA Board of Governors voted on March 25 to begin expansion to Vegas and Seattle—both destinations are gone. He can’t sell the franchise unrenovated for more than $4.25 billion. He can’t let the arena deteriorate—the NBA requires modern facilities. His only alternative is to borrow $600 million at 5.5% and pay $65 million per year.

This deal costs him $64 million per year. He saves a million a year. He avoids deploying $600 million in capital. He avoids construction risk. He retains 75% of non-basketball event revenue, 35% of naming rights, 100% of basketball revenue. His franchise appreciates at ~20% per year regardless. His 20-year return is $14–24 billion.

A man who built his fortune on extracting marginal value from every transaction does not leave $20 million on the table.

And if he threatens to refuse?

The city issues a competitive RFP and lets the market set the price. The Blazers still play in Portland (the 20-year lease is in SB 1501). The arena still gets renovated (a private operator funds it, as in Seattle). The city collects rent on a building it owns. The competitive lease isn’t a threat—it’s the city’s permanent fallback. Its existence is what makes these terms enforceable.

The mayor keeps making our argument.

At a press conference on April 8, 2026, Mayor Wilson said: “We bought it for a dollar. We did it knowing full well that someday we’d need to renovate.” He called Portland the Blazers’ “landlord” and Moda Center “a pretty good asset to own.”

He’s right. Portland IS the landlord. The building IS a valuable asset. So why isn’t the landlord charging rent?

Wilson also admitted the $600 million renovation figure is fake: “It’s less than $600 million. We’re just using that as a kind of placeholder number.” The public is committing $871 million based on a number the mayor himself calls a placeholder.

He confirmed the city’s share would come from the Portland Clean Energy Fund—the same source Councilor Novick has publicly refused to vote for. He said Dundon would only contribute “if they want certain upgrades that we aren’t paying for.” Zero private dollars for the base renovation.

When asked if he was concerned the city had no leverage, Wilson said: “That’s just reality.”

It is not reality. Portland owns the building. The team can’t relocate. Dundon’s alternative costs $65 million a year. The Glickman Contract costs him $64 million. The city has all the leverage. The mayor just doesn’t know it—or doesn’t want to use it.

Who we’re dealing with.

On March 25, 2026, ProPublica and OPB published internal emails showing that Dundon, as CEO of Santander Consumer USA, personally ordered the company to stop requiring proof of income on car loans in 2013. His chief risk and compliance officer flagged potential federal law violations. Regulators characterized Dundon as “ignoring this internal concern.” Oregon’s attorney general sued. Thirty-three states settled for $550 million over lending practices Oregon called “predatory and harmful.”

Oregon’s current attorney general, Dan Rayfield, is now investigating Exeter Finance—another subprime auto lender where Dundon is chairman and investor, staffed with former Santander executives who were involved in the original practices.

Dundon left Santander with a $700 million separation package. He used that wealth to buy the Hurricanes and now the Blazers. Oregon is being asked to hand $871 million in public money to a man whose fortune was built on practices the state’s own attorney general called predatory.

Portland’s council is already skeptical.

City Councilor Steve Novick, the swing vote on Portland’s 12-member council, told Willamette Week on March 25:

Novick has said flatly he will not vote to redirect Portland Clean Energy Fund dollars to the arena. He noted that once the NBA expands, “there’ll be fewer places to conceivably move the team to.” State Sen. Khanh Pham, who cast one of six Senate no votes, said the ProPublica findings affirm that “guardrails on public-private partnerships are important in all instances and especially this one.”

The Glickman Contract is the guardrail.

The city’s advisor has a conflict of interest.

Portland’s lead financial advisor on the deal is Stafford Sports, LLC. Public records obtained March 31, 2026 reveal that the firm previously did business planning for the Moda Center on behalf of the Trail Blazers—their own website lists work on “Moda Center (Trail Blazers).” The city hired the Blazers’ former consultant to advise Portland in a negotiation against the Blazers.

The contract (full document) was structured as a City Attorney Consultant Contract—making all work product attorney-client privileged. Every financial model, deal memo, and negotiating recommendation is shielded from public disclosure. The scope of work is fully redacted. The hourly rate is redacted. There was no competitive selection—no posting, no evaluation, no competing proposals.

Total budget: $250,000. For advisory work on an $871 million deal. That’s 0.029% of the deal value. In private M&A, advisory fees run 0.5–2%. The contract was originally scoped in 2021 for the bridge lease extension—a $15,750 task order. It has since been stretched to cover SB 1501 with no visible re-scoping.

They held secret weekly meetings with the Blazers.

OregonLive reported on March 31 that city officials have held weekly “Project Mt. Hood” meetings since at least early November 2025 to plan the publicly funded renovation. Participants included the mayor’s chief of staff, the city CFO, Blazers president Dewayne Hankins, advisers to Gov. Kotek, and a county commissioner.

The entity asking for $871 million was in the room designing the pitch. At no point did anyone in that room ask what the market would pay for the right to operate this building. That’s what the Glickman Contract answers.