[29th May 2000 – Giants Stadium, East Rutherford, NJ]
Xavier had been busy in the month of May, other than preparing for exams both at Harvard and Columbia. He had attended many networking events with Peter, who had insisted he join him. The older man had fully bought into the idea of the Tiger Dome, Jungle, and Den. The name was still a work in progress, but the groundwork to build the thing was already taking shape.
Peter had introduced him to New York's cultural elite, opened doors that would have remained closed for years otherwise. One such door led directly to Mayor Giuliani himself. While not particularly a sports fanatic, the Mayor was absolutely a mega-construction, job-creation enthusiast. He hadn't outright pledged support, but he'd made it clear he wouldn't oppose the project.
More importantly, when asked about Xavier in a recent interview, Giuliani had praised him as exactly the kind of young entrepreneur New York needed. This had led to his current situation where he had been summoned to a sit-down, quite literally by Comissionare Trueman.
The man had been surprisingly silent throughout the ordeal, but when he thought from a business perspective, he understood the man's sentiment. The league remained relevant in the media throughout the offseason beyond the Super Bowl; he could practically see the Benjamins rolling in next season. Still, he did his job and called for a sit-down, under Mara's insistence, over the young owner's moves.
Xavier sighed as he walked into the Offices of the Giants Organisation, which was located inside Giants Stadium. While both teams were representatives in name, everyone knew that was only a technicality. The Tigers' offices were located at a university, which they also rented, making them the worst of the three NY teams.
While Buffalo rented their stadium, they at least had an HQ where their team could train. Sometimes he wondered if the Tigers were just here to fill the numbers. Walking through the building, which consisted mainly of Giants staff, the air was cold, chillingly so.
Another indicator that affirmed his resolve to build his own stadium beyond the commercial reasons. Not minding the glances, he took the elevators up to the executive level and hurriedly exited despite running ten minutes late. He was good-natured about the situation he had intentionally caused, but his ego did not appreciate being summoned as if he had broken some taboo.
"Hello, Mr James," the secretary in front of the chairman's office stood up to greet him as he immediately moved to open the door, remaining professional throughout.
"Thank you," he muttered, adjusting his tie—navy blue with subtle silver threading, paired with a charcoal suit that had cost more than most people's monthly rent. If he were walking into the lion's den, he'd look good doing it.
The space was exactly what he'd expected: traditional, expensive, tasteful. Dark wood panelling, leather furniture, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the stadium field. Framed photographs documented the Giants' history—championship teams, legendary players, moments of glory spanning decades. Two Lombardi Trophies sat in a glass case, catching the afternoon light.
Commissioner Paul Trueman stood near the windows, hands in his pockets, his silver hair perfectly styled. He turned as Xavier entered, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp. "Excuse my tardiness, gentlemen; the traffic into town was an ant's march."
"No worries, we have just arrived ourselves," Trueman said, obviously lying, but Xavier didn't mind as he stood to shake his hand. "You have been making some noise, young man."
"I apologise, it was not all intentional," he went on to greet the man next, who shook his hand, not showing his dissatisfaction, even as he squeezed it firmer than necessary. "Mr Mara, pleasure seeing you again."
John stood slowly, accepting the handshake with a grip firm enough to bend steel. "Is it?"
Xavier met his eyes steadily, not flinching from the pressure. "Always a pleasure to meet with fellow owners who care about their franchises."
John released his hand and gestured toward the sitting area—two leather armchairs facing a three-seater sofa, arranged around a glass coffee table. "Since we're all busy people, shall we get right to business?"
"I don't see why not," Trueman said, settling into one of the armchairs. "Is that alright with you, Mr James? I know you must be busy with preseason preparations."
"Honestly, I find myself quite free," He responded, taking the longer three-seater sofa meant for guests, positioned lower than the armchairs, designed to put visitors at a psychological disadvantage. Xavier didn't mind, though, as he sat in the centre, crossing his right leg over his left before replying. "I'm actually planning a trip to California next month, then Sydney for the Olympics."
He leaned forward, poured himself a glass of water from the carafe on the coffee table, then settled back, crossing his right leg over his left. After taking a measured sip, he set the glass down and looked directly at Trueman. "However, since all relevant parties are in attendance, I'd like to formally request that the Giants franchise accept the Tigers organisation's intention to build a stadium in Newyork as stated in the shared market bylaws."
The room went silent, and before Trueman could even react, John smashed his fist against the leather armrest. You have some nerve," he said, his voice tight with controlled anger, "asking that after the stunts you've been pulling in the media."
"Huh, I'm just doing what every half-decent owner should be doing." He calmly retorted, placing the glass back down. "Securing the future of my franchise, plus as an owner, the real money isn't in the team but in the image and the events your stadium can host. Tell me I'm wrong?"
There was a short pause after his retort, because both men knew the league brought in a lot of money. However, teams that owned their own stadiums raked in money hands over fist through local sponsorships, ticket sales, and other sources under league rules. While the Giants did not own the stadium either, they were treated as the Team, given priority in all matters from scheduling to merchandise locations.
John's jaw worked, but he said nothing. Because they both knew Xavier was right. The league brought in billions, but franchises that owned their own stadiums made exponentially more through local sponsorships, ticket sales, naming rights, and non-football events. The Giants didn't own Giants Stadium either, but they were treated as the primary tenant—priority scheduling, merchandise locations, revenue splits that favoured them over the Tigers.
Trueman cleared his throat, intervening before the tension could escalate further. "Xavier, nobody's questioning your right to explore stadium options. But you have to understand the optics here. You're courting IOC officials, making statements to the press, meeting with the Mayor—all while bypassing the proper channels within the league."
"What proper channels?" Xavier asked, his tone genuinely curious rather than combative. "The shared market bylaws are clear. Any franchise in a shared market can pursue independent stadium development, provided it notifies the other franchises and the league office. I sent that notification in writing three weeks ago."
"A one-page letter," John said flatly.
"A legally sufficient notification, according to my lawyers," Xavier corrected. "Unless you're suggesting the bylaws require more?"
"The spirit of the bylaws—" John began.
"The spirit?" Xavier interrupted, his pleasant demeanour finally showing a crack. "Mr Mara, with all due respect, the spirit of the bylaws is exactly what I'm following. For seventy-five years, the Giants have enjoyed preferential treatment in this market. Priority scheduling, better revenue splits, and control over this facility. The Tigers have been the junior partner, the afterthought, the team that plays 'away' games in their home market because the Giants call dibs on the good time slots."
He leaned forward, his auburn eyes intense. "The bylaws exist specifically to prevent one franchise from monopolising a shared market forever. They exist to allow competition, growth, and evolution. I'm not asking permission to build a stadium, gentlemen. I'm asking where in this beautiful city the giants would find it ok for the tigers to build their home?"
Trueman raised a hand before John could respond. "Alright, let's take the temperature down a few degrees." He looked at Xavier. "Walk me through your timeline. When do you plan to break ground? What's your target completion date? And most importantly—how are you financing this?"
Xavier appreciated the shift to logistics "That depends on Mr Mara. I would like to have Bulldozers rolling by August and officially begin by October. I'm still in the selection process for architectural and construction firms. Target completion for the HQ is 2003, and 2004 for the stadium."
"That's aggressive," Trueman observed.
"I know, but it's necessary, because we don't plan on renewing our lease beyond the 2005 season.", Xavier countered. "Every year we delay is another year of lost revenue, lost opportunities, lost market position."
"And the financing?" John pressed.
Xavier smiled faintly. "Private fully financed."
That clearly surprised them both. John's eyebrows rose slightly. "You're building a stadium with private money? Do you have any idea how expensive that is?"
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To Be Continued...