Phil Reisman: The money was always on Cuomo

Turn the clock back seven months to a fateful April morning. The setting was the Westchester Marriott in Tarrytown where more than 300 businessmen and businesswomen waited patiently for the arrival of Gov. Andrew Cuomo.

The special guest was late, yet no one seemed to mind. Under tight security, the crowd was herded into a large conference room ringed by the governor's cadre of young, hyper-thin aides dressed in uniformly dark suits. It was a captive audience of important achievers.

When Cuomo finally appeared, he radiated confidence bordering on arrogance. Flashing a shark-like smile, he sensed he had these people where he wanted them. Over the course of the next hour or so, he delivered a slick PowerPoint presentation on the state's 2014 budget.

He covered all the economic bases — the $2 billion surplus, the holding down of spending, a moratorium on taxes for new businesses through the vaunted Start-Up NY program, the creation of hundreds of thousands of new jobs and, of course, the 2 percent property tax cap. (Afterward, Cuomo blew off the press, which was consistent with his control-freak personality and an unsavory characteristic that would be revealed in myriad ways throughout the campaign.)

The sponsors of the event, the Westchester County Association, called Cuomo's performance a "grand slam." In a statement, the WCA president, Bill Mooney, a man who is not given to handing out undeserved compliments, said the governor had done a "tremendous job … and we are eager to further collaborate with him to renew economic prosperity in the region."

For Westchester County Executive Rob Astorino, winning the gubernatorial race was always a long shot. Cuomo's appearance at the Marriott proved just how quixotic Astorino's journey would be. The business of New York is business, and business was clearly with the incumbent.

Astorino's campaign slogan "Is New York winning or losing?" may have been a legitimate rhetorical question, but it was pessimistic and ultimately eclipsed by Cuomo's ability to out-duel the Republican on his strongest issue — property taxes.

The money was on Cuomo's side from the beginning.

The millions of dollars stuffed in the governor's war chest has practically become the stuff of legend. But more than that, as a sitting governor he controlled the levers of power, and though Astorino could boast that he visited all 62 counties, Cuomo could checkmate the challenger by funneling government cash into the most depressed regions. One recipient of development aid was the city of Buffalo, where Cuomo also claimed credit for keeping the Bills football team from leaving town — and pointed out that Astorino was a fan of the Miami Dolphins.

If Cuomo wasn't inspiring during the race, his campaign was adept at turning out a raft of TV commercials that portrayed Astorino has a racketeer, racist, dangerous Second Amendment supporter and charter member of the Women Haters Club. Most of it was hyperbolic garbage, but the strategy of negative advertising worked. According to a Marist poll released on Oct. 31, Astorino's negativity rating was 40 percent, a fatal metric so close to the election.

Lagging in the polls and badly lacking in wherewithal, Astorino struggled to get his message out. By July, New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie, the head of the Republican Governors Association, dismissed Astorino as a "lost cause." This was a stinging rebuke.

All through the campaign Astorino scrambled for "free time" in the form of press conferences and online video stunts, some of which were cute and creative and some of which bordered on the sophomoric. At times he enlisted his wife and 11-year-old son, who expressed outrage at Cuomo's tactics. On the theory that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, he made oddball appearances with Zephyr Teachout, a left-wing professor who challenged Cuomo in the Democratic primary.

None of this moved the needle enough. Astorino's paucity of funds meant that he couldn't capitalize on the one thing that momentarily knocked Cuomo back on his heels — the allegations that he interfered with the anti-corruption Moreland Commission.

Perhaps out of desperation, Astorino insultingly called Cuomo a crook, and undoubtedly some people jumped to the same conclusion. At any rate, Cuomo certainly is not overly beloved, as evidenced by the aforementioned Marist poll, which showed he had a "lukewarm" job approval rating of 44 percent.

The problem for Astorino was that he never became a viable alternative, in part because not nearly enough voters outside of his home county ever learned who he was. And too many others perceived him as Cuomo had defined him — a right-wing nut.

Having only one TV debate didn't help him dispel the negative perception. Sitting on stage with Cuomo and two other fringe candidates — one of whom espoused the benefits of industrial hemp — hardly afforded Astorino a chance to display his personal charms.

The gubernatorial race was long and nasty, but it ended with a whimper, shortly after the polls closed at 9 p.m. Cuomo was the projected winner.

In the end, Astorino ran a credible campaign. He never gave up. There's something to be said for that. He has three more years to serve as county executive.

As for Cuomo, he may run for president. Or not.

One thing he is not likely to do is convene another Moreland Commission for any purpose, because if he does he'll be laughed out of the state.

Twitter: @philreisman