One Last Ride

Mellon Arena
Mitchell and Ritchey
Photograph courtesy of Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh

I won’t have time to post tomorrow, as I’ll be rushing to get home from work and head down to the Igloo, so I decided to post this now.

Click here for a Youtube that was done beautifully (not by me of course)

Tomorrow will be the beginning of the end – the last Penguins Home Opener at Mellon Arena. I face the end with mixed feelings. I’ve been stating for months that it will be bittersweet and as the time grows nearer, it’s all too true. I will miss the old gal terribly, even though I look forward to a modern new arena where I can actually have leg room.

But there is so much that I will miss, so many good times and bad, that have been a huge part of my life. During past thirty-six years I have journeyed onto the hill more times than I can count. If I could count them, I promise I wouldn’t post them all. I’ll just highlight some memories.

My first concert was to see Tony Orlando and Dawn. I was just a baby so I don’t actually remember it, and my mother took me. She failed to take me to see Elvis, though, because she said I was too little. I don’t get her reasoning here and still hold it against her. Ice Follies, Ice Capades, Disney On Ice and getting those glow in the dark necklaces to wear, themed flashlights to wave and eating way too much junk food-all good times! My mom’s friend, Johnny, used to always get me the best seats because I was a spoiled brat (still am).

And then there was one of the biggest moments in my life. Summer. 1987. Pink suede, fringed jacket and big, Big, BIG, frosted hair. Bon Jovi, Slippery When Wet tour. Oh. My. God. What a great night. The man flew over the crowd. Can you even comprehend what that did to me??? I still remember it like it was yesterday. Cinderella opened up for them and someone from CCR joined Jon and the boys on stage to do a rendition of “Drift Away,” which of course became one of my favorite songs forever after. My aunt, Arlette, took Kim, Kristie and me. In retrospect, we probably all should mail her a thank you note for putting up with three screaming, obnoxious, horny teenaged girls for a whole night.

But the main part of my Igloo experience of the years has been my Penguins. It took me a few years to convince my mom to take me to a game but on March 27, 1987, she finally gave in. It was against the Philadelphia Flyers. Thankfully, one game was all it took for her to get addicted to hockey and that was the start of many games and memories:

The Atmosphere

The smell of Nachos, mixed with the smell of beer, combined with the smell of sweat – most people would find this repugnant, but to me it smells like home. Those seats where the concrete pillar hides some of the ice? I’ve had the opportunity to sit there. I look at the banners hanging from the rafters of the Stanley Cup Championship years every time I set foot in the arena. Mario and Briere’s retired jersey banners hang alongside the flags. The Ring of Honor brings tears to my eyes. Teams having to cross each other on their way to the locker room from the bench (and vice versa) has resulted in many “incidents” over the years. Crowded concourses where you shuffle along because the crowd moves like a snail has lent itself towards getting to know people a little too well at times.

The People

The cotton candy guy. The guy who used to dress as Elvis. The Penguin lady who holds up her big penguin statue and wears the goofy headgear and Im afraid I will turn into her one day….yeah that lady. The guy who started with his friends going shirtless and writing PENS letters on their chest then hung on by himself with his bare chested N while his other friends drifted away. John Barbaro. Jeff Jimmerson. Vince Lascheid. Iceburgh (the coolest mascot in the world). The horrible house band they had for a few years. Every usher and concession stand worker I have met and spoken to over the years has been a joy to deal with. Every annoying person I got stuck sitting in front of who screamed in my ear or talked nonstop and every kid who kicked the back of my seat through the whole game, everyone who was there with me: I love you all!

The Moments

My first game. My first playoff game. My first Stanley Cup finals game. My first Stanley Cup finals win. Getting Chili from Wendy’s when the Pens scored seven goals and the “Chili! Chili!” chant that started after the sixth goal. Getting my face painted for the first time (yes I am one of those people). Losing my voice from screaming (only to get it back again the day of the next game and losing it all over again). My memories of the last time I saw Lemieux skating on the Igloo's ice. Had I known then it would be the last time I saw him wearing the sweater and skates I would have savored it even more. That wonderful March night against Buffalo when 66 came out to tell us that "Your Pittsburgh Penguins will remain right here in Pittsburgh where we belong." That night gave me chills like no other. The night I didn't just get misty eyed but I cried huge tears, was the first game after Lemieux announced his retirement. I knew then that I would never see him skate in the NHL again. It was one of the saddest moments of hockey.

I may very well cry tomorrow night. It won't be the first time in the Igloo. It won't be the last. Im sure the emotion will be high with the raising of the banners, but it will be the last time I see them raised in that old barn. I will be there for the last Pens game come hell or highwater. If Im dead, I have left instructions to take my body ala' Weekend at Bernies and prop me up in my seat.

But as I said before...this is the beginning of the end. Call it the Civic Arena. Call it the Mellon Arena. Call it the Igloo. It's been Home to me.