Arena Means Downtown Will Party When It’s 1999

The vote was taken in City Hall at 1:21 p.m., and five minutes later on a downtown street, everything felt different.

The worn cafes were crowded. The darkened shops were noisy. Those chirps in the overgrown park were children.

The people walking in your direction, for the first time were walking with you, different colors and languages and worlds, moving together toward a large building in the distance.

OK, so two years in the distance. But it is there. You could feel it Friday like that breeze through tired trees, a new sports arena that will turn downtown into our town.

After the vote was taken at 1:21 p.m. Friday, the City Council approving a plan to build a $200-million arena, you felt like you had stepped into a new Los Angeles.

The highlights, for those who haven’t been paying attention or just haven’t believed:

* A 20,000-seat arena for the Kings and Lakers.

* Located just east of the 110 Freeway, just north of the 10.

* At no ultimate taxpayer expense, unless the Kings and Lakers suddenly can’t sell tickets.

* Doors open in September 1999 if the environmental impact reports and final city approval occur as planned.

Have you ever been to another city and watched it come alive around a basketball or hockey game? Have you ever stood outside a sparkling arena in the center of a brightly lit downtown, watching fans streaming inside from nearby cafes and shops and exhibits?

Remember the times you thought about where you lived and said, “That could never happen here?”

That is exactly what is happening here, thanks to some politicians who realize that nobody can feel truly alive without taking a little risk--not even the nation’s second-largest city.

Don’t fret, the real risk is not financial.

The worry that the teams will not draw enough to pay off the city’s $70-million debt through ticket surcharges, parking income and area business taxes is unfounded.

A building that big, in that prime location, with two prime teams--and maybe three if the Clippers join them--will have no trouble attracting attention.

Experts figure that 1.4 million people will see the building from the freeway every day.

The problem in this deal lies not in the wallet, but the soul.

Swept out with the last of the construction debris in 1999 will probably be the two best sports owners this town has ever enjoyed.

Already, this arena comes at the cost of Peter O’Malley.

The Dodger boss was sold down the river by the likes of Mayor Richard Riordan and Councilman Mike Hernandez, who put their allegiance to the arena ahead of their longtime, credible neighbor.

This slight, which included shutting him out of the football scene, led to O’Malley’s sale of his baseball team. O’Malley was not aggressive enough or politically savvy enough . . . and never saw it coming. Too bad the politicians couldn’t have figured a way to count him in.

How Mike Hernandez will break the news to his constituents that O’Malley has been replaced by a guy who won’t give a whit about their little block parties--a guy named Murdoch--is for another column.

Next man overboard, Jerry Buss.

As part of his deal to join King owners Philip Anschutz and Ed Roski in the new arena--which Anschutz and Roski are buying--Buss agreed to sell them 30% of his team.

The reports are that Rupert Murdoch, after he finalizes his deal to buy the Dodgers, will make his move to buy the Kings.

There is nothing to convince us that Anschutz and Roski will not sell to Murdoch. And nothing to convince us that Murdoch will not then begin acquiring the Lakers piece by piece.

By the year 2000, the good news is that this city will have a state-of-the-art arena, a touchstone for a jumbled land.

The bad news is that the guy who owns both teams that play there could be firing coaches from Australia, dumping players while flying over Japan, and turning every cheap seat into a luxury box.

Then Murdoch gets bored and leaves, the same way Georgia Frontiere and Al Davis became bored and left. And the touchstone becomes a millstone.

Part of the charm of the flashy downtown arena in Salt Lake City is that the Jazz owner is always in the front row if you need him.

The frightening thing about this arena is, nobody knows who will be the owners, much less where they will sit.

While Anschutz and Roski have a lot of money, they haven’t been around long enough to turn that into credibility.

Anschutz’s refusal to attend last week’s NFL owners meeting with Roski to help sell the league on their proposed ownership shows he really doesn’t care. Not that the NFL would have embraced them anyway. The NFL owners hate the Coliseum, and they are not returning there even if somebody builds 10 new downtown arenas.

Are Anschutz and Roski really owners, or merely developers who will flip their team--or teams--to the highest bidder once the arena is built? It’s a shame they don’t have more on their resume than two years of bad hockey.

That said, it’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

The city will have a new building, with new hopes, new direction, new spirit.

So there is a risk that the building will soon be inhabited by carpet-baggers and loons. Join your city on a walk along a downtown street in two years, and you will agree it is a risk worth taking.

* PLAN GETS OK: A divided City Council gives nod to a plan to build a $200-million downtown sports arena. B1