Hansen: Passionate fans savor wrestling’s new home
‘New look, same feeling’ as a tradition moves to Wells Fargo Arena
MARC HANSEN
REGISTER COLUMNIST
The wrestling fans stood in line, the way they do every year at this time, waiting for the gates to open on the first day of the state high school meet.
It was almost 11:30. The start of competition was another 90 minutes away, but the crowd outside the door was ready.
A group of kids from Cedar Rapids Kennedy wore green T-shirts. The words on the back said, “Wells Fargo Arena: New look, same feeling.”
In a few minutes 8,000 spectators would find out whether that was true.
The state meet and Veterans Memorial Auditorium were made for each other. Gritty, sweaty, sticky are some words that describe both.
At the Barn, you had all these matches going on at the same time. That hasn’t changed.
But just off the mat you had a constant flow of foot traffic scooping the arena loop. The State Milling-Around Meet.
The fans loved the intimacy and the intensity. They could jump out of the bleachers and creep up to the edge of the mat with a camera.
Before a match, they could shake a coach’s hand and wish him good luck. Afterward, they could give somebody a hug.
At the Well, a railing separates the fans from the floor. Standing at the front of the line with his son, Bret Kurtz of Kalona had some reservations.
“I’m sure I’ll miss the atmosphere, “he said.
Eleven-year-old Aaron knew the Vets Auditorium drill by heart. They’d zip through the turnstiles. The kid would leave the dad in a cloud of dust and dash up the ramp.
A white-haired authority figure would yell at Aaron to stop running. He’d slow to a walk, turn and peek over his shoulder. Then he’d take off again.
He’d race to the balcony. He’d save some seats in the first row behind the press plank.
His father would do the same. And when their favorite wrestlers took the mat, they’d switch to the seat with the best view.
Before the match, they’d head back down the ramp. Aaron told me he’d been doing this forever, which meant three years.
Now Bret would probably have to reprogram the kid.
Nope. When somebody wearing a “Wells Fargo Arena staff “shirt finally barked the ready-set-go command, a new era in high school wrestling came rushing through the door.
Aaron swerved left, cut back, stutter-stepped around a group of agility-impaired adults and found himself on the 50-yard line, front row.
He couldn’t reach out and touch anybody wearing a singlet. He had to lean over the railing and shout if he wanted someone’s attention. But it was OK. An hour later, I spotted him in the crowd. He didn’t seem to be missing the atmosphere.
Why would he? The lights were bright. The seats were good.
The video screens above the floor zoomed in on the action. The sound system reminded nobody of a conductor calling out garbled train times.
Nick Nichols of Waverly wrestled in the 2004 meet. He told me up-close-and-personal was overrated. The Well, he said, is a big improvement.
“It took me 30 minutes to get from one side of Vets to the other, “he said.
I’ll admit to feeling some bad vibes early in the day.
Martin Miille from Waverly was standing in line talking to an arena staffer. No camcorder tripods allowed, the staffer said.
Miille had always gotten away with it before, clutching the camera between his knees, holding it still while taping his son’s match.
“When Mike’s out there wrestling, “he said, “it shakes a lot. I guess Grandpa and Grandma will just have to watch a shaky video.”
Miille shrugged. It’s hard to get him down during state wrestling week.
“We live and breathe this time of year, “he said.
Then there was the sight of high school wrestling fans in luxury suites. That took some getting used to.
Jill Roozeboom, the wife of Knoxville coach Tony Roozeboom, was looking at the Well’s Web site when she realized she could get 12 luxury suite tickets for $250.
She got a group together. Each person ended up paying $17.
It was cool, she told me afterward. Refrigerator, TV, cushy seats, fantastic view. But once was enough. Today they’ll be back in the stands, paying the $8 general admission.
I’m afraid the stories from the Well won’t be as colorful, though. A few years ago, Andy Hamilton of the Iowa City Press-Citizen was at Vets working on the plank. He’d placed his computer case ” his rock-hard computer case ” near his feet.
A woman from Ogden was sitting next to him. A fan on press row, for some reason.
In her excitement, the woman kicked Hamilton’s computer case off the overhang. It fell about 10 feet and cracked another fan in the head.
Dazed but not confused, the fan righted himself, recovered the computer case, reached up and handed it back to Hamilton, who filed his story. Now that’s atmosphere.
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