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Capital Centre 1973-1997
Maybe Capital Centre, like an aging and broken-down athlete who fails to hear the whispers, should have retired sooner. But like the flashy ballplayer in his twilight – oh, you should have seen the Centre in its strapping youth.
Even for D.C. sports fans who came of age, like me, in the 1970’s, it’s getting harder to remember that the Centre was once a jewel in the crown of sports venues. Or, as a cheesy marketing campaign once explained it, "That's Centre-Tainment."
"Abe Pollin's Palace on the Prairie"
Prince George’s
County wasn’t even the first choice of owner Abe Pollin. As Paul Schwartzman wrote in a 2002 Washington Post
retrospective, “He favored the District, but then-Mayor Walter Washington couldn't find the right spot. "So Pollin ventured
east to Landover, and, despite vigorous opposition from environmentalists, settled on 75 acres of parkland just outside the
Capital Beltway. For 15 months, construction crews worked feverishly to erect the arena, which got its name when Pollin's
wife, Irene, blurted out, 'How 'bout the Capital Centre?'"
Capital Centre buzzed with innovation at its 1973 opening. As Schwartzman noted in his Post article, “The new arena boasted state-of-the-art features, including computerized ticketing, skyboxes and a four-sided Telscreen that flashed replays and video segments.”
“Abe Pollin’s Palace on the Prairie,” was the reverent description coined by Capitals broadcaster Ron Weber. “The magnificent arena in the county” was the less lyrical, though equally admiring review by Washington Star columnist Morris Siegel in 1977.
Dark Days By the late 1990's, as the renamed US Airways Arena prepared to
shut its doors, there were few kind words. One Canadian journalist wrote, “No one will miss it. It's the darkest rink
in the league and it is located in the middle of nowhere.” Both visiting and
home athletes surely agreed with Post columnist Tony Kornheiser, who called the place a “Dungeon.” I read
once that the black interior and dim lighting was an attempt to create a theatre-like setting; if so, it failed to appreciate
the energy that sports stadiums are supposed to create.  Yet it was Kornheiser – known for pouring salt into the wounds of the body Capital – who came to the arena’s defense at its closing. “For 24 years that building made this area big league.”
And that’s really the point. I got to cheer when Dennis Maruk scored his 60th goal – still a Capitals team record. I saw Wes Unseld’s tip-in with 12 seconds left for the Bullets, beating the 76ers in an Eastern Conference Final. I saw Billy Joel in concert, Ringling Brothers, and even a Star Trek convention. (Although my invitation to the Presidential Inauguration Gala somehow got lost in the mail.)
Epilogue
Ironically, back in ’77, Siegel wrote, “The vision of a sports complex downtown is still bogged down by red tape. If they are really serious about getting it built, they ought to turn it over to Pollin.” 20 years later, that’s just what happened, signaling the end for the Centre.
Well, to be precise, there still is a structure in Landover called the Capital Centre. Except that now it looks like the picture to the left.
If it’s OK, though, when someone speaks of the “Entertainment Complex” in P.G. County, to me it will always mean the arena with the red and blue seats. Contrary to much of what was said and written as it closed, Capital Centre will be missed. Certainly for the memories contained inside, and even for the structure itself, affectionately referred to by my sister as “The Potato Chip.”
The Capital Centre is Imploded on December 15, 2002
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