Memories are funny things. Sometimes the most trivial things find a spot in the cobwebbed corner of our minds and reside there forever. Other, seemingly more important items, evade us as we struggle to recall them.
I have been trying for the past couple of days to remember the first time I walked into the Spectrum, the original indoor sports and concert hall at the corner of Pattison and Broad in South Philly.
I’m pretty sure it was a concert, but for the life of me I can’t remember who the starring act was. It’s a pretty good guess, however, the Foghat opened the show. They seemed to open for everyone in the ‘70s. I can’t count the number of times I heard “Chateau Lafitte Boogie” live.
I have spent a lot of time the past few days remembering the Spectrum. That is because it is entirely possible that sometime in the near future someone will actually walk into the venerable building for the last time. Period. End of era. Over.
As reported in our Sunday newspaper by Anthony SanFilippo, Comcast-Spectacor is considering several proposals to develop property they own at the South Philly sports complex. This goes back 10 years to the time when they built the “Big House,” what is now the Wachovia Center. Originally the plan was for a series of shops and other outlets. It never happened.
Now it’s back. Comcast-Spectacor officials have confirmed that one of the proposals would include a hotel, which would sit where the Spectrum now stands. In other words, break out the wrecking ball.
And unleash the memories. Forty years of them.
The building first became famous not for the events held there, but the ones that were not. That’s because a storm blew the roof off the joint soon after it opened. Sixers and Flyers game that were supposed to be played there had to be moved.
I’ll leave the argument about whether or not the building should be preserved to others. It’s the memories that fascinate me. The Flyers winning their first Stanley Cup, parading it around the ice amid a sea of humanity that would soon wash across the region and then reform a day later on Broad Street, as we celebrated the fact that we were no longer losers. If you listen hard enough, you can still hear the echoes of Kate Smith’s live version of “God Bless America” in the old place.
The Flyers won again the next year, but the clincher came on the road against the Sabres.
The orange and black saved the NHL’s dignity by beating – and beating up – the Russian national team in a game made famous by the Russian coach’s decision to pull his team from the ice after an especially tough check from Flyer Ed Van Impe.
The Sixers won a title, taking two games on the Spectrum hardwood before sealing the deal against the Lakers in L.A.
In 1992 there was maybe the single most famous shot in Spectrum history, Christian Laettner taking that long outlet pass and sinking a bucket as time expired as Duke topped Kentucky in the 1992 NCAA Eastern Regional.
But it’s the concerts I will always remember the most. It was where I was introduced to live music, and the notion of a “dance concert.” In other words, first come, first serve. They opened the doors, and thousands of kids shot in trying to get the best seats on the floor.
There wasn’t a lot to do as a teen out in the far reaches of Oxford, Pa., in Chester County. I had a car. A group of us became Spectrum regulars. Of course, back then, you could get a ticket for most shows for 10 bucks or less.
The acts I saw at the Spectrum read like a who’s who of classic rock: Johnny and Edgar Winters, Mountain, the Who, the Allman Brothers, Santana, Rod Stewart, the Eagles.
Ironically, it’s a show I did not see in person that has stuck with me over the years. It had to be the winter, January or February of 1973. I was a senior in high school. A bunch of us had tickets for a Chicago show at the Spectrum. Something came up and I didn’t make it.
The next day I talked to my friends and all they could talk about was the opening act at that show.
Now remember, this crowd had come to see Chicago, and they apparently made that pretty clear to the opening act. In those days, the opener was supposed to play a few songs, warm up the crowd and get off. This act had other ideas. And the crowd let them know about it.
And who would that band be? That would be a scruffy kid from New Jersey and his pals. Yes, that would forever be remembered as the night Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band got booed off the Spectrum stage.
Times change. So do musical tastes. And tastes in stadiums.
The built the Core States Center. The Flyers and Sixers moved next door. Now they are considering knocking the building down altogether.
Which brings me to the last time I was in the Spectrum.
This one I have no trouble remembering. Talk about changing tastes.
Very likely 25 years after the first time I walked into the Spectrum for a concert, I returned.
The place was packed. The atmosphere was electric. You could literally feel the buzz in the place, as opposed to the kind of buzz that was present a quarter of a century ago.
The lights went down, and Francis Albert Sinatra walked onto the stage to one of the most thundering ovations I’ve ever heard.
It was his 75th Silver Anniversary Tour.
A lot of people probably will say he was well past his prime. You could have fooled me.
Of course, I’m a bit biased. My wife and I danced to “All the Way” at our wedding.
When Sinatra sang the first few notes of that classic, I grabbed my wife’s hand and looked at her. We both had tears in our eyes.
Yeah, memories are funny things.
Thankfully, unlike buildings, they never die.
I have been trying for the past couple of days to remember the first time I walked into the Spectrum, the original indoor sports and concert hall at the corner of Pattison and Broad in South Philly.
I’m pretty sure it was a concert, but for the life of me I can’t remember who the starring act was. It’s a pretty good guess, however, the Foghat opened the show. They seemed to open for everyone in the ‘70s. I can’t count the number of times I heard “Chateau Lafitte Boogie” live.
I have spent a lot of time the past few days remembering the Spectrum. That is because it is entirely possible that sometime in the near future someone will actually walk into the venerable building for the last time. Period. End of era. Over.
As reported in our Sunday newspaper by Anthony SanFilippo, Comcast-Spectacor is considering several proposals to develop property they own at the South Philly sports complex. This goes back 10 years to the time when they built the “Big House,” what is now the Wachovia Center. Originally the plan was for a series of shops and other outlets. It never happened.
Now it’s back. Comcast-Spectacor officials have confirmed that one of the proposals would include a hotel, which would sit where the Spectrum now stands. In other words, break out the wrecking ball.
And unleash the memories. Forty years of them.
The building first became famous not for the events held there, but the ones that were not. That’s because a storm blew the roof off the joint soon after it opened. Sixers and Flyers game that were supposed to be played there had to be moved.
I’ll leave the argument about whether or not the building should be preserved to others. It’s the memories that fascinate me. The Flyers winning their first Stanley Cup, parading it around the ice amid a sea of humanity that would soon wash across the region and then reform a day later on Broad Street, as we celebrated the fact that we were no longer losers. If you listen hard enough, you can still hear the echoes of Kate Smith’s live version of “God Bless America” in the old place.
The Flyers won again the next year, but the clincher came on the road against the Sabres.
The orange and black saved the NHL’s dignity by beating – and beating up – the Russian national team in a game made famous by the Russian coach’s decision to pull his team from the ice after an especially tough check from Flyer Ed Van Impe.
The Sixers won a title, taking two games on the Spectrum hardwood before sealing the deal against the Lakers in L.A.
In 1992 there was maybe the single most famous shot in Spectrum history, Christian Laettner taking that long outlet pass and sinking a bucket as time expired as Duke topped Kentucky in the 1992 NCAA Eastern Regional.
But it’s the concerts I will always remember the most. It was where I was introduced to live music, and the notion of a “dance concert.” In other words, first come, first serve. They opened the doors, and thousands of kids shot in trying to get the best seats on the floor.
There wasn’t a lot to do as a teen out in the far reaches of Oxford, Pa., in Chester County. I had a car. A group of us became Spectrum regulars. Of course, back then, you could get a ticket for most shows for 10 bucks or less.
The acts I saw at the Spectrum read like a who’s who of classic rock: Johnny and Edgar Winters, Mountain, the Who, the Allman Brothers, Santana, Rod Stewart, the Eagles.
Ironically, it’s a show I did not see in person that has stuck with me over the years. It had to be the winter, January or February of 1973. I was a senior in high school. A bunch of us had tickets for a Chicago show at the Spectrum. Something came up and I didn’t make it.
The next day I talked to my friends and all they could talk about was the opening act at that show.
Now remember, this crowd had come to see Chicago, and they apparently made that pretty clear to the opening act. In those days, the opener was supposed to play a few songs, warm up the crowd and get off. This act had other ideas. And the crowd let them know about it.
And who would that band be? That would be a scruffy kid from New Jersey and his pals. Yes, that would forever be remembered as the night Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band got booed off the Spectrum stage.
Times change. So do musical tastes. And tastes in stadiums.
The built the Core States Center. The Flyers and Sixers moved next door. Now they are considering knocking the building down altogether.
Which brings me to the last time I was in the Spectrum.
This one I have no trouble remembering. Talk about changing tastes.
Very likely 25 years after the first time I walked into the Spectrum for a concert, I returned.
The place was packed. The atmosphere was electric. You could literally feel the buzz in the place, as opposed to the kind of buzz that was present a quarter of a century ago.
The lights went down, and Francis Albert Sinatra walked onto the stage to one of the most thundering ovations I’ve ever heard.
It was his 75th Silver Anniversary Tour.
A lot of people probably will say he was well past his prime. You could have fooled me.
Of course, I’m a bit biased. My wife and I danced to “All the Way” at our wedding.
When Sinatra sang the first few notes of that classic, I grabbed my wife’s hand and looked at her. We both had tears in our eyes.
Yeah, memories are funny things.
Thankfully, unlike buildings, they never die.
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