BornInTheGrove
November 27th, 2006, 02:10 AM
couldn't find the thread that was dicussing this...
Present states obscure once glorious pasts
The sites of some of South Florida's most defining sports moments now sit largely unused - shadows of their former selves.
BY BARRY JACKSON
bjackson@MiamiHerald.com
It is late on a recent weekday afternoon outside Miami Arena, and the only sign of life is a vagrant lying on the sidewalk, overgrown weeds rising behind her.
There is an eerie silence all around now. But listen closely -- very closely -- and you will hear the ghosts of Rony Seikaly, Glen Rice and Scott Mellanby, nostalgic reminders of South Florida's NBA and NHL teams as they blossomed through adolescence.
Memories.
That's all that's left, really, for the hundreds of thousands of people who passed through the turnstiles at Miami Arena, Miami Marine Stadium and Hialeah Park.
All were vibrant hubs on the area's burgeoning sports landscape. But punishing poundings from hurricanes and 14 years of negligence reduced Miami Marine Stadium to a crumbling eyesore. Meanwhile, Miami Arena and Hialeah Park sit in limbo, dodging wrecking balls but facing fuzzy futures, years removed from their halcyon heydays.
None of three former sports meccas currently drains taxpayers' coffers, but all elicit feelings of nostalgia, even wistfulness, as their owners mull what to do with them.
STILL VIABLE
Glenn Straub thought he had a plausible plan for Miami Arena. After purchasing the pink palace from the City of Miami for $28 million at a 2004 auction, the Palm Beach businessman intended to make it a hub for religious events, concerts and minor-league sports. But then he decided earlier this year he would be better off selling it, asserting that he expected the new owner would carry out his vision.
Now Straub is determined to cancel his $50 million sale to developer Scott Silver after learning that Silver spoke to Major League Baseball about selling the land to accommodate a proposed Marlins stadium.
Both parties have filed lawsuits, leaving the 18-year-old arena's future clouded in doubt.
Straub said if he keeps the property, he would be willing to sell it to MLB to accommodate a baseball stadium. Otherwise, he said he would return to his original plan of using the arena to house various low-profile events, including religious revivals and minor-league sports such as lacrosse and indoor soccer.
He said he's convinced South Florida needs the arena, despite competition from newer, more luxurious facilities.
''Everybody doesn't have $100 to see events,'' he said. ``There has to be a place for lower-priced events. Miami Arena has got 70 years left in it. It would be a shame to tear it down.''
Silver envisions demolishing the arena under any scenario and said he's confident his contract to purchase it will be legally upheld.
''We're virtually certain we're going to prevail,'' Silver said. ``In the contract, it says we can tear it down.''
Silver said he likely would give part of the land to MLB, if a baseball stadium deal materializes, and would use the other part for development, including retail shops, housing and possibly a hotel.
''Without a stadium, we see using the land for workforce housing and a retail, commercial area,'' he said.
Silver said it wouldn't make sense financially to keep the arena open. ''Even if you kept it open, you might [only] be covering your taxes,'' he said. ``I don't see it as a profitable venture. You have a lot of new arenas.''
All the marquee tenants fled years ago. The Panthers left for Sunrise in 1998, and the Heat bolted across Biscayne Boulevard to AmericanAirlines Arena two years later. The arena's last big-time sports tenant, the University of Miami, moved its basketball games to the on-campus Ryder Center (now BankUnited Center) in January 2003.
Since then, Miami Arena has housed minor-league hockey and an arena football team whose games have been sparsely attended. Still, Straub said he has a formula to make it profitable.
''It takes 110 event nights to break even, and we had 80 the first year,'' he said. ''We were ready to go up to 150'' before the contested sale.
COMPLETE DISREPAIR
For parts of four decades, concerts and boat races drew thousands to Miami Marine Stadium on Virginia Key. Built in 1963 with the goal of making Miami a boat-racing capital, the cozy stadium lured a diverse group of performers, from Sammy Davis Jr. to Jimmy Buffett. Even Phil Donahue once filmed his talk show there in 1991, with former New York Gov. Mario Cuomo as a guest.
The 6,700-seat stadium was considered a marvel of Miami interior design, with a cantilevered concrete roof and a barge serving as a stage. But age began to take a toll, and Hurricane Andrew delivered a knockout blow in 1992, creating hundreds of cracks in the concrete shell and sinking the stage. The city deemed the site unsafe and shut it down months after Andrew.
In the aftermath of the hurricane, vandals stole seats, typewriters and anything else they could grab, while littering the property with trash and graffiti.
''Raccoons are running the place, and it makes me sad and mad to see it,'' said Miami resident Monk Terry, who often rows by the stadium and fondly remembers attending regattas and a Bonnie Raitt concert before it closed.
''Fort Lauderdale took away sailing, and we should celebrate that we're on the water,'' he added. ``The city isn't taking advantage of this. There are thousands who have never been to the shoreline. Nothing beat going to a concert by boat.''
The city owns the stadium and the land -- which sits on prime real estate -- and has begun studying what to do with the site and other land on Virginia Key, Miami city manager Pete Hernandez said. A decision is expected by June.
''It's too early to have any preconceived notions,'' said Enrique Nunez, chief of urban design for the City of Miami's planning department. ``We could refurbish it, reduce it, demolish it or put up a whole new venue. It was very popular.''
In the meantime, City of Miami budget director Larry Spring assures that no taxpayer money has been used on the stadium since it closed.
''It would be marvelous if they could renovate it,'' said Becky Roper-Matkov, CEO of Dade Heritage Trust. ``We don't want massive development there. That's something people in Key Biscayne feel strongly about.''
FOR THE BIRDS
Yes, the flamingos remain.
But so much has changed at gothic Hialeah Park since it ran its final race May 22, 2001.
Last year's hurricanes damaged the roof and ripped apart two of the halls in the balcony. The interior toteboard caved in. The barns have deteriorated from age and the elements. And the horses -- the lifeblood of this South Florida jewel -- are long gone.
''We made our commitment five years ago to save Hialeah racing,'' said owner John Brunetti, who hopes to decide the park's future within a year. ``It has been a struggle with the cost of maintaining it.''
Hialeah Park opened in 1925, attracting such luminaries as Winston Churchill and presidents Truman and Kennedy with its lush landscaping, Mediterranean-style architecture, and the island of frolicking flamingos. Many of the legendary horses -- including Spectacular Bid, Alydar and Seattle Slew -- ran there.
Now? The track once dubbed The World's Most Beautiful Racecourse has been reduced to hosting two or three weddings a week in the only hall that's still operational. However, even that will end after Dec. 31 because the hall's condition has deteriorated.
''I've been here 13 years, and it is sad for me to see a place with so much history and that brought so much excitement sitting dormant,'' said Hialeah city councilman Steve Bovo, who serves as Hialeah Park's asset manager.
The track closed for racing after the Florida Legislature refused to continue regulating racing dates so Hialeah could operate competition-free. Brunetti, who purchased Hialeah Park in 1977, saw no point in engaging Gulfstream Park and Calder Race Course in a battle for customers and horses.
''It's financial suicide to compete with them, and there's the inability to even fill up a racing card,'' Brunetti said. ``We're very despondent about not racing. We've tried to get non-competitive racing dates.''
The Legislature took away Hialeah's thoroughbred license in 2003 under a law that a track must have run live racing in the 2000-01 and 2001-02 fiscal years.
And according to the state's pari-mutuel division, regaining the license will be impossible unless laws are revoked or changed. According to a constitutional amendment, an application for a new racing permit cannot be considered at a location within 100 miles of an existing pari-mutuel facility. And a facility cannot add slots unless it has a racing license.
Brunetti said it wouldn't make sense to resume racing again, anyway, unless the Legislature regulated the dates and Miami-Dade County voters approve slots (that won't be on the ballot until next March at the earliest).
''We can't do anything without the slots,'' he said. ``The slots would give us the lifeline to compete with the other tracks. You can't have slots if you don't have a license.''
Brunetti said he will decide sometime after next spring's legislative session whether to pursue another racing permit or go to Plan B: building a ''community within a city'' -- a $1 billion project that would include residential housing and commercial development on the 220-acre plot.
If Hialeah Park is demolished, it would meet the same fate as Hialeah Speedway, which hosted races for 51 years before being razed earlier this year. The speedway will be replaced by retail stores.
Meanwhile, Brunetti said he has rejected about a dozen offers to sell during the past five years.
''John probably couldn't pull the trigger on a deal to sell Hialeah,'' Bovo said. ``His heart is in racing. He's got too much invested in it.''
In the meantime, the original wooden barns will be demolished -- something that would have happened even if horses still galloped there, Brunetti said.
Though the horses are gone, the flamingos still frolic -- 250 of them, in fact -- easily outnumbering the 12 staffers who operate the park.
''I don't think getting rid of the flamingos has been talked about. They're part of the landscape,'' Bovo said, noting some were donated to zoos. ``Nobody cares about the humans who work there -- just the birds.''
But the history of the place is not lost on Brunetti: ``Our heart and soul are in Hialeah Park. It's an international institution. We will hold out until the bitter end.''
Present states obscure once glorious pasts
The sites of some of South Florida's most defining sports moments now sit largely unused - shadows of their former selves.
BY BARRY JACKSON
bjackson@MiamiHerald.com
It is late on a recent weekday afternoon outside Miami Arena, and the only sign of life is a vagrant lying on the sidewalk, overgrown weeds rising behind her.
There is an eerie silence all around now. But listen closely -- very closely -- and you will hear the ghosts of Rony Seikaly, Glen Rice and Scott Mellanby, nostalgic reminders of South Florida's NBA and NHL teams as they blossomed through adolescence.
Memories.
That's all that's left, really, for the hundreds of thousands of people who passed through the turnstiles at Miami Arena, Miami Marine Stadium and Hialeah Park.
All were vibrant hubs on the area's burgeoning sports landscape. But punishing poundings from hurricanes and 14 years of negligence reduced Miami Marine Stadium to a crumbling eyesore. Meanwhile, Miami Arena and Hialeah Park sit in limbo, dodging wrecking balls but facing fuzzy futures, years removed from their halcyon heydays.
None of three former sports meccas currently drains taxpayers' coffers, but all elicit feelings of nostalgia, even wistfulness, as their owners mull what to do with them.
STILL VIABLE
Glenn Straub thought he had a plausible plan for Miami Arena. After purchasing the pink palace from the City of Miami for $28 million at a 2004 auction, the Palm Beach businessman intended to make it a hub for religious events, concerts and minor-league sports. But then he decided earlier this year he would be better off selling it, asserting that he expected the new owner would carry out his vision.
Now Straub is determined to cancel his $50 million sale to developer Scott Silver after learning that Silver spoke to Major League Baseball about selling the land to accommodate a proposed Marlins stadium.
Both parties have filed lawsuits, leaving the 18-year-old arena's future clouded in doubt.
Straub said if he keeps the property, he would be willing to sell it to MLB to accommodate a baseball stadium. Otherwise, he said he would return to his original plan of using the arena to house various low-profile events, including religious revivals and minor-league sports such as lacrosse and indoor soccer.
He said he's convinced South Florida needs the arena, despite competition from newer, more luxurious facilities.
''Everybody doesn't have $100 to see events,'' he said. ``There has to be a place for lower-priced events. Miami Arena has got 70 years left in it. It would be a shame to tear it down.''
Silver envisions demolishing the arena under any scenario and said he's confident his contract to purchase it will be legally upheld.
''We're virtually certain we're going to prevail,'' Silver said. ``In the contract, it says we can tear it down.''
Silver said he likely would give part of the land to MLB, if a baseball stadium deal materializes, and would use the other part for development, including retail shops, housing and possibly a hotel.
''Without a stadium, we see using the land for workforce housing and a retail, commercial area,'' he said.
Silver said it wouldn't make sense financially to keep the arena open. ''Even if you kept it open, you might [only] be covering your taxes,'' he said. ``I don't see it as a profitable venture. You have a lot of new arenas.''
All the marquee tenants fled years ago. The Panthers left for Sunrise in 1998, and the Heat bolted across Biscayne Boulevard to AmericanAirlines Arena two years later. The arena's last big-time sports tenant, the University of Miami, moved its basketball games to the on-campus Ryder Center (now BankUnited Center) in January 2003.
Since then, Miami Arena has housed minor-league hockey and an arena football team whose games have been sparsely attended. Still, Straub said he has a formula to make it profitable.
''It takes 110 event nights to break even, and we had 80 the first year,'' he said. ''We were ready to go up to 150'' before the contested sale.
COMPLETE DISREPAIR
For parts of four decades, concerts and boat races drew thousands to Miami Marine Stadium on Virginia Key. Built in 1963 with the goal of making Miami a boat-racing capital, the cozy stadium lured a diverse group of performers, from Sammy Davis Jr. to Jimmy Buffett. Even Phil Donahue once filmed his talk show there in 1991, with former New York Gov. Mario Cuomo as a guest.
The 6,700-seat stadium was considered a marvel of Miami interior design, with a cantilevered concrete roof and a barge serving as a stage. But age began to take a toll, and Hurricane Andrew delivered a knockout blow in 1992, creating hundreds of cracks in the concrete shell and sinking the stage. The city deemed the site unsafe and shut it down months after Andrew.
In the aftermath of the hurricane, vandals stole seats, typewriters and anything else they could grab, while littering the property with trash and graffiti.
''Raccoons are running the place, and it makes me sad and mad to see it,'' said Miami resident Monk Terry, who often rows by the stadium and fondly remembers attending regattas and a Bonnie Raitt concert before it closed.
''Fort Lauderdale took away sailing, and we should celebrate that we're on the water,'' he added. ``The city isn't taking advantage of this. There are thousands who have never been to the shoreline. Nothing beat going to a concert by boat.''
The city owns the stadium and the land -- which sits on prime real estate -- and has begun studying what to do with the site and other land on Virginia Key, Miami city manager Pete Hernandez said. A decision is expected by June.
''It's too early to have any preconceived notions,'' said Enrique Nunez, chief of urban design for the City of Miami's planning department. ``We could refurbish it, reduce it, demolish it or put up a whole new venue. It was very popular.''
In the meantime, City of Miami budget director Larry Spring assures that no taxpayer money has been used on the stadium since it closed.
''It would be marvelous if they could renovate it,'' said Becky Roper-Matkov, CEO of Dade Heritage Trust. ``We don't want massive development there. That's something people in Key Biscayne feel strongly about.''
FOR THE BIRDS
Yes, the flamingos remain.
But so much has changed at gothic Hialeah Park since it ran its final race May 22, 2001.
Last year's hurricanes damaged the roof and ripped apart two of the halls in the balcony. The interior toteboard caved in. The barns have deteriorated from age and the elements. And the horses -- the lifeblood of this South Florida jewel -- are long gone.
''We made our commitment five years ago to save Hialeah racing,'' said owner John Brunetti, who hopes to decide the park's future within a year. ``It has been a struggle with the cost of maintaining it.''
Hialeah Park opened in 1925, attracting such luminaries as Winston Churchill and presidents Truman and Kennedy with its lush landscaping, Mediterranean-style architecture, and the island of frolicking flamingos. Many of the legendary horses -- including Spectacular Bid, Alydar and Seattle Slew -- ran there.
Now? The track once dubbed The World's Most Beautiful Racecourse has been reduced to hosting two or three weddings a week in the only hall that's still operational. However, even that will end after Dec. 31 because the hall's condition has deteriorated.
''I've been here 13 years, and it is sad for me to see a place with so much history and that brought so much excitement sitting dormant,'' said Hialeah city councilman Steve Bovo, who serves as Hialeah Park's asset manager.
The track closed for racing after the Florida Legislature refused to continue regulating racing dates so Hialeah could operate competition-free. Brunetti, who purchased Hialeah Park in 1977, saw no point in engaging Gulfstream Park and Calder Race Course in a battle for customers and horses.
''It's financial suicide to compete with them, and there's the inability to even fill up a racing card,'' Brunetti said. ``We're very despondent about not racing. We've tried to get non-competitive racing dates.''
The Legislature took away Hialeah's thoroughbred license in 2003 under a law that a track must have run live racing in the 2000-01 and 2001-02 fiscal years.
And according to the state's pari-mutuel division, regaining the license will be impossible unless laws are revoked or changed. According to a constitutional amendment, an application for a new racing permit cannot be considered at a location within 100 miles of an existing pari-mutuel facility. And a facility cannot add slots unless it has a racing license.
Brunetti said it wouldn't make sense to resume racing again, anyway, unless the Legislature regulated the dates and Miami-Dade County voters approve slots (that won't be on the ballot until next March at the earliest).
''We can't do anything without the slots,'' he said. ``The slots would give us the lifeline to compete with the other tracks. You can't have slots if you don't have a license.''
Brunetti said he will decide sometime after next spring's legislative session whether to pursue another racing permit or go to Plan B: building a ''community within a city'' -- a $1 billion project that would include residential housing and commercial development on the 220-acre plot.
If Hialeah Park is demolished, it would meet the same fate as Hialeah Speedway, which hosted races for 51 years before being razed earlier this year. The speedway will be replaced by retail stores.
Meanwhile, Brunetti said he has rejected about a dozen offers to sell during the past five years.
''John probably couldn't pull the trigger on a deal to sell Hialeah,'' Bovo said. ``His heart is in racing. He's got too much invested in it.''
In the meantime, the original wooden barns will be demolished -- something that would have happened even if horses still galloped there, Brunetti said.
Though the horses are gone, the flamingos still frolic -- 250 of them, in fact -- easily outnumbering the 12 staffers who operate the park.
''I don't think getting rid of the flamingos has been talked about. They're part of the landscape,'' Bovo said, noting some were donated to zoos. ``Nobody cares about the humans who work there -- just the birds.''
But the history of the place is not lost on Brunetti: ``Our heart and soul are in Hialeah Park. It's an international institution. We will hold out until the bitter end.''