In Tribute -- September 11, 2001

Wrote this during my trip there over the weekend of March 16-17, 2002, for the Connecticut Post, but space limitations made me slash it almost in half. This is the full, almost-30-inch version. What's in the box reiterates some of it; it was something I sent to a couple of pals and fellow hockey fans.

Top 10 Things I Frickin' Love About Hersheypark Arena The press room is like a trophy room. The walls are wood-paneled and have pictures of every Bears team back to the early 30s, when they were in an amateur league and shilled for the parent company as the "B'ars." A trophy case features pictures of former captains, pucks, programs and the like. The press room also has the best damn spread in the league, of the places we've been. Not the fanciest or anything, but while places like Worcester and Bridgeport have all this chicken stuff and salads and stuff that probably has a French name and crap like that, in Hershey, it's hot dogs, soup and oyster crackers, Buffalo wings, Swedish meatballs, ziti or stuffed shells, pretzels, potato chips, all the fountain soda you can chug, and bowls of Hershey's Miniatures on the tables. Other press rooms are either antiseptic or dingy. I want to get married at Hershey's. The press box is about 12 rows from the ice. The only other time I have ever worried about being hit by a puck at a hockey game was at the Wonderland of Ice, the local skating rink in Bridgeport. I was a little more alert Sunday night. You can hear the players bitching about icings. Even if you aren't in the press box, you won't be in a bad seat. The top row is probably no more than 50 feet from the ice. It's so steep, it's almost straight down. We sat five rows from the top Saturday night, and the only action we missed was when we were wandering. Doing out-of-town scores, the public address announcer cuts himself off when play resumes. He quite rightly assumes we aren't there to hear him, which is a far cry from most arenas, which demand noise from the loudspeakers as often as possible. The only announcements we heard over action were the ones we need over action: goals and penalties. Doing scratches before the game, he takes his time, announces them twice, spells the names of the additions and gives their positions, which has to be nice for the people who can't just pop open the laptop and check the Internet Hockey Database. Art-deco scoreboards that look ripped off from the Wonderland of Ice. The team names are painted in green on white panels, back-lit, above white-bulbed score digits. The penalty clocks feature white bulbs for the time, red for the player. An analog time-of-day clock hangs next to the east scoreboard. Little signs on both sides of the boards on both sides read, "Spectators are warned of possible injury from flying pucks." American and Canadian flags fly at angles on opposite sides of each scoreboard. Under the east scoreboard are the Bears' eight Calder Cup championship banners and a coming-attractions board, all hand-placed signs, like a movie-theater roadside sign. Under the west scoreboard is a similar hand-placed signboard with the Western Conference standings. Welcome to 1950. Everything is old-school, the way it should be. The crowd. When Hershey scores, that crowd gets damn loud. They know what they're doing. They cheer when they hear that Wilkes-Barre/Scranton is getting shut out again. They cry in ecstasy when they hear the Philly Phantoms have lost again. They almost in unison tell the linesman that Bridgeport guy was a stride behind the red line when he dumped in. Though the Bears' current sweaters are hideous -- they look like old Tampa Bay Lightning sweaters, the ones with the funky names and numbers, that became factory seconds because they were chocolate brown instead of black-n-blue -- take solace in the crowd, because it seems like every third person is wearing an old Bears sweater of some vintage. And about 90 percent of those sweaters seem to have a name and number on the back. It's a walking history lesson. And they spell out their epithets before they shout them, which brings us to... Where else are you going to see three girls walk by in Amish long skirts (well, just Mennonite, I guess) and prayer caps moments before the crowd spells out "bullshit" at the referee? Every dimly lit entryway seems to have three doors radiating out. Some lead to closets, some to side rooms, some to nowhere, some just out into the seating area. And you can't get there from here. The main walkway for the lower bowl is on the inside rather than behind the stands (and it's so narrow that, between periods with standing-room folks along the rail, only one person can go each way, and getting from the inside to the outside or vice-versa involves the tango). The upper level has one walkway inside and another outside, but you can't get there from the lower bowl without going back out to the entrances and walking upstairs out there. You can't get anywhere backstage -- team offices, dressing rooms -- without detailed directions, knowledge of the exact hallway and the exact door you must use, and, at times, a Sherpa. No suites. No waitresses. No obnoxious message boards begging for "NOISE!" The loud music isn't even that loud. They're leaving for the huge and full-service and video-boarding and club-seating and suite-havin' and antiseptic and spankin' new arena, but they're not tearing the old one down. Tearing that place down would be sacrilege. I didn't see a game at Maple Leaf Gardens. I only got to Boston Garden once. I wasn't born when the last Madison Square Garden got torn down. I only watched a closed-circuit broadcast at the Forum. I'm unbelievably thankful I got to see two games in two nights at Hersheypark Arena. There's no better place in use. Games get hyped and disappoint. Ballparks are supposed to be the Elysian Fields themselves and disappoint. Hersheypark Arena did not disappoint. If you have the means between now and the end of the playoffs and have not been, I highly recommend it.

Steep seating areas put even those in the mustard-colored seats in the upper, upper deck on top of the action. An analog time-of-day clock stands high above the east end of the Arena, next to a scoreboard that looks swiped from a small local rink, with back-lit placards reading "Bears" and "Tigers" in green paint above white-bulb numbers.

There's no alcohol for sale in the concession areas, dug into the corners of the building, which was built during a Great Depression construction push in 1936. Every dark, narrow entryway seems to have three dark-brown wooden doors branching out, to a closet, to a side room, or out into the grand Arena itself.

And as if to remind you why you're there, the public-address announcer cuts himself off giving the out-of-town scoreboard when the linesman drops the puck.

Welcome to old-time hockey, circa 1950.

The War Memorial in Syracuse and Hersheypark Arena are the last two ancient barns in the AHL -- at least, the last two that haven't undergone major renovations that make them unrecognizable. After this year, it'll just be Syracuse.

The Bears will move about a half-mile west on Hersheypark Drive to the $75 million Giant Center -- corporate sponsorship, not size, gives it the name. The new arena, under construction in a parking lot at the west end of the Hersheypark complex, will have wide concourses, modern and more convenient amenities, not to mention beer.

Giant Center has three times the rest rooms (24 instead of eight), and three times the square footage of the old one. It will probably have about a third of the charm, as well, because for hockey, there may be no better arena in use on the continent than Hersheypark Arena.

"At least from a hockey perspective, we're leaving with mixed emotions," said Hershey president and general manager Doug Yingst, an employee of the team in various capacities for 20 years.

"This place is steeped with tradition and memories. It still might be the best in the American Hockey League to watch a game."

The good news is the building will remain up, with a local college, some high schools and youth leagues playing games. The bad news is the Bears will use it only for practices.

"It's not obsolete," said Hartford coach John Paddock, who coached the Bears for four years in the 1980s, winning the 1988 Calder Cup here.

"Every (new) rink is built for money, amenities and the stuff that come with that. The seating (at Hersheypark Arena) might be a little cramped, but for hockey, everyone loves playing there."

Giant Center became necessary more for other events than hockey, Yingst said. The added space and seating will help bring more shows to the small town.

Premium seating for Bears games at the new arena has gone fast, with 35 out of 40 suites sold for a 10-year contract (at $45,000-70,000 a pop) and all but 50 of the 688 club seats sold for the season.

Hersheypark Arena's capacity of 7,225 (plus standing room) ranks just 22nd among current league venues, but the Bears played to an average 83.2 percent of capacity, fourth-highest in the league, through Saturday. The Giant Center's 10,500 seats will put Hershey back into the middle of the pack.

The team still could be successful financially in the old arena, where Wilt Chamberlain scored 100 points against the Knicks on March 6, 1962, and where the Bears have won eight Calder Cups.

Where modernization seems most needed is in the corridors. With a sellout crowd against Wilkes-Barre/Scranton Saturday, fans were still backed up on the staircase to the upper level all the way down to the doors moments before faceoff.

Patrons enter the building through doors in each corner. Those seated in the lower bowl have to get to their seats via a walkway which is inside rather than behind the stands. The narrow path permits just one person to go in each direction, which makes for some interesting tangoes during intermissions when a person on the rail wants to get to the outside.

That will be corrected in the new arena with a more traditional concourse (taking out standing-room space in the process), while keeping some architectural features of the old arena, including the high-arching roof.

For the last regular-season home game in the old barn, April 7, the Bears will bring in video boards for the first time ever, and as many living legends will return as the team can fit into the Arena.

After that, the length of Hersheypark Arena's stay in the AHL will be based only on the Bears' stay in the playoffs.

"I'm going to miss those Saturday nights," Yingst said. "A Saturday night in Hershey, you want to be at the Hersheypark Arena supporting the Hershey Bears. I hope it'll continue in the new arena.

"I'm going to miss the proximity. I'm going to miss the electricity that came out of that."

Hersheypark Arena scoreboard after the last regular-season game at the old barn. Photo taken by, and shamelessly swiped from, Bears fanatic and historian Eric Lord.

Anchored the Boring Homepage, 3/19/02-9/11/02.

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