It Was Too Dark Inside, but Plenty of Stars Lit It Up
By Tony Kornheiser
Saturday, November 29, 1997; Page D01
The Washington Post
As everyone rushes to celebrate the opening of the new MCI
Center, there is a disquieting lack of nostalgia for a building that
was once the newest of the new itself -- the building originally
christened Capital Centre when it opened in 1973. Even Abe
Pollin, who must have thought Capital Centre would be his
grand accomplishment, prefers to look forward to the
technological and architectural splendor of his new, downtown
arena.
The truth is that even before Cap Centre morphed into USAir
Arena (it's now US Airways Arena), the building had fallen into
disrepute. Players complained it was too dark. Spectators said
it was cold and distant. When you went inside it felt like you
were walking down into a dungeon. It never felt cozy like
RFK. It never developed a personality like Cole Field House.
It isn't even gone and it's already forgotten.
The arena sat out there uncomfortably on a bed of asphalt in a
wind tunnel, a totem to a misguided notion about hitching the
culture to the inevitability of suburban dominance. Even the
building's graceful saddleback roof couldn't persuade people
that it had any charm at all.
I have made much fun of the building in my time, particularly
about the escalating parking rates, which seemed to serve as a
metaphor for what was wrong with the place: There was no
way to get there but to drive, there was nothing to do when
you got there -- no neighborhood restaurants, no shops, no
sign of life -- and then they overcharged you to park there.
Madison Square Garden, it wasn't.
But for 24 years that building made this area Big League. Great
performances were given there. Great moments transpired.
Not just sports moments, but concerts and presidential
inaugural galas. That Telscreen, which seems so obsolete now,
was the first of its kind. In its day that now shopworn building
was on the cutting edge. Granted, its day has passed. But as
Willy Loman's wife says in "Death Of A Salesman," attention
must be paid.
We all think of the building as home to the Bullets and Capitals.
But the three greatest singers of the 20th century -- Frank
Sinatra, Elvis Presley and Barbra Streisand -- all sang there.
MCI Center's opening concert is, ahem, Barry Manilow.
We're all familiar with the TV shots of Jack Nicholson and
Dyan Cannon sitting courtside at the Fabulous Forum in L.A.,
and Woody Allen and Spike Lee sitting courtside at the
Garden in New York. No gym has glitter like that. But Capital
Centre had its own kind of celebrity: the politician. I will never
forget my first trip to the building -- I was working in New
York, and I was sent to cover the NBA Finals between the
Bullets and Seattle in 1978. During one game I found myself at
the next urinal from George McGovern, whom I'd voted for a
few years earlier when he ran for president against Richard
Nixon. It's not the kind of setting where you reach over and
shake hands, but it seemed to me standing next to George
McGovern in that circumstance was democracy in action.
The Bullets won just one NBA title in the life of the building.
That's sad, and we've all suffered through too many futile
seasons. But that one championship is one more than the
people in Atlanta, Phoenix, San Antonio, New Jersey, Denver
and Indiana have.
Over the years Bullets fans have gotten to see three of the
NBA's greatest 50 players wear the home white -- Wes
Unseld, Elvin Hayes and Moses Malone. One more, Earl
Monroe, was gone from the Bullets by the time the building
opened, but he came back to play as a Knick.
The Caps, regrettably, have been disappointing, especially in
the playoffs. But two of the greatest moments in the building
were those quadruple-overtime games, the first against the
Islanders, the second against the Penguins. We all know the
Capitals lost. That's been their curse, to choke in the playoffs.
But no one who saw those games will ever forget them.
Muhammad Ali defended his title in the building, against Jimmy
Young. Ray Leonard fought there, too. Martina Navratilova
played Chris Evert there. John McEnroe played Andre Agassi.
All the great figure skaters performed there. I first saw Grant
Hill, Jason Kidd and Shawn Bradley play there as high school
seniors in the Capital Classic. Others can say the same about
Michael Jordan, Ralph Sampson, Patrick Ewing and Alonzo
Mourning.
Although the building wasn't known for college basketball, for
years it has been home to Georgetown, whose program John
Thompson built into one of the most feared, most respected
and most identifiable in the country. Year after year in the '80s
the place was sold out for Georgetown-Syracuse and
Georgetown-St. John's; it always seemed both teams were
18-1 or 19-2. Three times the ACC championship was played
there. Once a sixth-seeded Virginia team shocked a North
Carolina team with four Olympians -- Phil Ford, Mitch
Kupchak, Tommy LaGarde and Walter Davis. A few years
ago the NCAA held a sub-regional in the building, and the two
best college basketball coaches of our time, Dean Smith and
Bobby Knight, were there.
I'm sitting at home writing this, so I don't have dates or scores
available to me. But I can remember watching classic games
out there on the Beltway: The two heartbreaking hockey
playoff games I mentioned earlier; the Patrick Ewing-Chris
Mullin game that St. John's won the year both teams went to
the Final Four; the ballyhooed Ralph Sampson-Patrick Ewing
game in 1982; the Maryland-Georgetown game in 1993 that
Duane Simpkins won in overtime with a last-second scoop
shot -- it was Joe Smith's first college game, and he got 26
points, and it was the first time Maryland and Georgetown had
played since 1980; a Bullets season opener against Orlando
that The Incandescent Rex Chapman won with a last-second
jump shot; the Bulls game where Michael Jordan was mad at
LaBradford Smith, and torched him for 36 in the first half!
Some pretty good stuff. Maybe even worth the parking.
The Bulls are closing it out tonight. From every comment I read
by Capitals and Bullets players, they can't wait to get
downtown. And neither can the fans.
We live in a disposable culture. Capital Centre served its
purpose, and now we move on, and it stays behind. Before
they turn out the lights I thought someone ought to say
something nice about the old place. So I did.
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