By Frank Parlato
The City of Niagara Falls, New York, retained the consulting firm Sports Facilities Advisory (SFA) of Clearwater, Florida, to produce a “feasibility report” for a proposed indoor arena called Centennial Park.
The word “feasibility” was used, though its meaning had been altered.
As admitted by SFA in its own “feasibility report,” Mayor Robert Restaino told them what success looked like. And they studied how to agree with him.
A feasibility report used to mean: Can we afford this? Is it a good idea? What’s the upside—and the risk? It weighs the benefits against the costs, considering the best case against the worst-case scenario.
This report does not explore what might happen if revenues are lower, costs are higher, or what happens if the new facility struggles to attract events.
Instead of asking if the city should build it, the consultants admittedly delivered a report aligned with Mayor Restaino’s vision: a 7,000-seat multipurpose arena to host concerts, tournaments, and an anchor tenant, possibly a minor league hockey team.
A big arena with lights and music and skates on ice. Big shows, big team. But they forgot the money, risk, need. They didn’t forget, really. They just didn’t write them down.
If anything goes wrong? Well, the report doesn’t say—because that would be feasible.
Concerts – as easy as AI can make them full to capacity – from the SFA feasibility study.
Why Hide It?
It may not be the consultants’ fault. There is evidence they didn’t want to write it this way. They delivered a report in April 2025 – two months before Mayor Restaino released it in June.
Mayor Restaino denied requests by The Niagara Gazette for the original report, made under New York’s Freedom of Information Law.
Why hide the earlier report? If it had supported Restaino from the start, don’t you think he would have published it the day he received it?
The mayor’s refusal to disclose the earlier version—even in the face of a lawful request—suggests it contradicted the final version promoted by Mayor Restaino.
A Report With No Name
Also puzzling is that the final report, although it bears the company’s name, lacks an author’s name, credentials, and signature.
Yes, the final version was clean, polite, agreeable. So agreeable it forgot to have a name. Just a price tag. $140,000.
The public does not know who wrote the report. But someone got paid. And someone likely rewrote something. Because when you have to hide the first version, it usually means the truth was in there.
Perhaps they submitted a report stating, “There is a chance the arena will fail.” Restaino tells them, “Try again.” Maybe he holds the check hostage.
So they send back fluff. Now, it’s all rainbows and minor-league hockey.
My guess is they wrote a thing. Then they un-wrote the thing. What’s left is a report—authored by nobody, signed by nobody, believed by nobody.
A public feasibility report tied to a major municipal investment. The absence of an author or professional signatory is striking. Standard practice dictates transparency through licensed attribution. Who developed the findings? What methods were applied? And who will be held accountable?
For something so grand—a city’s dream wrapped in debt. No name. No face. Just numbers floating in air.
When something this big costs this much, someone ought to say, “I did this.” But no one did. So you wonder—maybe no one really did.
The company name is there – Sports Facilities Advisory, LLC. On their website, there are a hundred professional team members.
But this report: No signature. No lead analyst. It’s a red flag.
No Financing, No Plan. No Tenant
The final version omits any plan for how the $200 million would be financed. It does not mention the $10 million annual bond debt service taxpayers will face—in a city with chronic financial difficulties.
It does not state that there is no anchor tenant, and the likelihood of finding one is remote. It does not state that the arena fails without an anchor tenant.
No. Just blind faith that the arena will flourish. Build it, and the team will come. Build it, and it will pay for itself.
But they didn’t say who would cover the bonds when winter came, and no one showed up. But the people will still pay because somebody always pays, and it’s never the mayor.
A $200 million project and no backup plan. No “what if.” Just “it’s gonna work.” It’s financial theater. And the audience? Screwed.
And so a mayor dreamed of an arena. A beautiful, bloated, bankrupting arena. The report agreed. But it didn’t say that when dreams go sour – ten million a year in bond payments. They left that out.
And let me tell you something: a $10 million-a-year payment doesn’t just fall from the sky. You’d think somebody would ask how we’re paying for it. But no. All smiles. All silence. All on your dime.
A report without authors. A debt without limit. A city asked to clap for something it can’t afford, can’t sustain, and doesn’t need.
And if you think this ends well, I got a 7,000-seat arena to sell you. Cheap. Just pay for it for the rest of your life.
To be continued …
Coming soon – why the arena will not get an anchor tenant that can fill the stadium.
Niagara Falls Arena Plan Fails Basic Feasibility Test: Where’s the Team?
Arena of Delusion: Niagara Falls Bets $200M on a Team That Doesn’t Exist – Study Proves it!