'The Arena' explores America's stadiums and their relation to the national character
Oath of the Lambeau Virgin: 鈥淚, Rafi Kohan, do solemnly swear to uphold the standards of Packer Nation, to worship at the hallowed ground that is Lambeau, to honor and cherish the players and coaches that came before, to lose my voice at every game I attend, to wear cheese as an accessory ... so help me God....鈥�
That鈥檚 author Kohan, ever the good sport, being inaugurated by the over-served mayor of Lambeau Field into an American institution that has best been described by another author as 鈥渁 kind of secular faith.鈥澛犅�
On the following football Sunday, down in Arlington, Tex. at AT&T Stadium, the Dallas Cowboys鈥� new home 鈥� aka 鈥淛erry鈥檚 World,鈥� 鈥淭he Eighth Wonder of the World,鈥� and 鈥渢he humming cash factory鈥� 鈥� there鈥檚 Kohan again, eyes boggling, watching as the DJs, live bands, pyro shows, drumming teams, go-go dancers, and hyper-choreographed cheerleader routines that serve as an ever-jangling set of shiny keys treat the crowd like kittens with ADD鈥� inside a three-million-square-foot, futuristic stadium with 鈥渟ixty-yard-long center-hung video boards that weigh more than a million pounds and draw eyeballs like moths to a flame.鈥�
These are just a couple of the arenas 鈥� 鈥渢he concrete monuments and fluid social spaces鈥� 鈥� that author Kohan visited in his quest to discover perhaps the purest embodiment of American exceptionalism there is. And just like the intent of every venue he visits, The Arena is fun.
It鈥檚 fun because of the author鈥檚 wit and style 鈥� a kind of gonzo/embedded journalism hybrid, as seen here, in Kohan's interactions with Roses, a Cleveland ticket scalper. "'This is cutthroat, man,鈥� [Roses] says, slurring his words, inches from my ear. 鈥楾his is about who鈥檚 eating good, who鈥檚 drinking good, and who鈥檚 sleeping on the street...鈥� I nod along ... [then he] slides his knife along my back, holds it there. He is giving off a last-grizzly-before-winter sort of vibe, desperate. But I know he鈥檚 telling the truth.鈥�
It鈥檚 fun because of the cast of crazies we meet, like 鈥淪ladek, who at fifty-seven billed himself as 鈥楢merica鈥檚 oldest daredevil acrobatic hand balancer鈥� ... [and] began his act, known as the Tower of Chairs. On top of a folding table placed at center court, he methodically balanced six wooden chairs, one after another, end on end, climbing spindles all the way to the top.鈥� Or Brad Collins, the Kansas City Royals鈥� mascot: 鈥滺e bemoans the effect technology has had on his craft, on crowd work. 鈥業t has ruined improv humor for mascots. The performance art in the stands is done. Anytime you start a gag, you have people come up and pull your tail, just trying to take a picture.鈥欌��
But most importantly it鈥檚 fun because it is, metaphorically speaking, a circus mirror reflection of who we are as a nation 鈥減sychologically, economically, politically, culturally, historically.鈥�
It is, also, a bit of a sprawl. We look from every angle and every vantage point, human as well as structural, at this most American of subjects: from luxury suites to bathrooms, from menacing ticket scalpers to OCD groundskeepers, from conniving club owners to out-of-control fans. Nothing and no one is left out or avoided in this sedulously researched, hands-on (Kohan worked as Sladek鈥檚 assistant during a Rutgers men鈥檚 basketball game, lifting chairs on poles to the daredevil), up-close-and-personal account of his visits to the arenas and the people who care about and for them.
Of Wrigley Field鈥檚 renovations (Wrigley is one of the two ballparks still around having been built of permanent steel and concrete into urban neighborhoods early in the last century), 鈥渁 five-phase overhaul that will effectively leave the Cubs with an all-new building, right down to the concrete and steel,鈥� Kohan wonders how one 鈥渟afeguards a ballpark鈥檚 soul?鈥� Yeah, that鈥檚 the big question, the Cubs鈥� president agrees.
As for the new Yankee Stadium ... Kohan deeply misses the old stadium.
In the chapter entitled 鈥淪uper Subsidize Me,鈥� Kohan explains how government subsidies work to the advantage of the owners: 鈥淭he Tax Reform Act ... [had] a loophole ... that actually encouraged cities to strike deals that were less favorable, in order to still qualify for tax-free borrowing.... [T]he loophole essentially forces 鈥榗ities to fund only facilities that were guaranteed money losers.鈥欌�� People aren鈥檛 getting their money鈥檚 worth, although some studies prove that being a sports fan has some benefits, 鈥渋ncluding higher self-esteem and fewer feelings of depression and loneliness." Yet other studies prove that watching sports can increase aggression.
Kohan does not avoid the taboo, either. At Penn State, he snoops around, inquiring and observing the effects of the Jerry Sandusky scandal on Happy Valley (鈥渢he stands today 鈥� on homecoming, no less 鈥� are far from full鈥�). In New Orleans, he interviews survivors of the horrors that occurred at the Superdome during Hurricane Katrina, where, for five agonizing days, 16,000 people existed in hellish conditions, some victims of rape and even murder, but more egregiously all casualties of the failure of the US government to expeditiously respond. The Superdome reopened in 2006, and the Saints came marching in, winning a Super Bowl in 2010 and selling out their season tickets every year since then.聽
As for the 鈥渆xtremely loud and incredibly gross鈥� fans in the stands... well, you鈥檒l have to read those for yourself to understand why this book as a reflection of who we are 鈥渁s individuals, as cities, and as a society鈥� really hits it out of the ballpark!
Richard Horan is an award-winning author of two novels: "Life in the Rainbow" and "Goose Music," and two non-fiction books: "Seeds" and "Harvest."
