http://www.sacbee.com/content/sports/story/13086039p-13931051c.html
Palace's arena model looks fit for the Kings
Ailene Voisin -- Bee Columnist
Published 2:15 am PDT Saturday, June 18, 2005
AUBURN HILLS, Mich. - Back in the mid-1980s, when arenas were built for less than $100 million, one of the good guys helped out the Bad Boys. Gregg Lukenbill incited the coup that produced the Palace. The Detroit Pistons might not even be here were it not for ... the Sacramento Kings.
True story.
Miracles can happen.
"We had started talking to Gregg," recalled Pistons president Tom Wilson, referring to the Kings' original Sacramento owner. "He actually made a presentation to the Board of Governors. 'Here's what I'm doing. We're still in the warehouse I built for $10 million, and this new one is going to be a newer version (which cost approximately $40 million).' And nobody was building any buildings at that time. But he said it could be serviceable for concerts, for other entertainment areas, and more than anything else, he would own the building. So (Pistons owner) Bill Davidson and I started talking."
That conversation concluded with the Pistons moving from the Pontiac Silverdome into their current home, a 22,076-seat arena that remains a physically stunning yet functional facility that was built for the ages. While virtually all of their contemporaries have become obsolete - those in Orlando, Milwaukee and Sacramento were completed within months of the Palace's final touches in 1988 - Davidson's privately financed project cost more ($90 million) but was worth the investment. An annual face-lift enables the place to retain its sheen. The interior is spacious without being a monstrosity. The concourses are inviting, the press accommodations exceptional, the parking abundant.
So, OK, the visitors locker room is cramped, and the location is shaky. Situated on 61.1 acres approximately 30 miles north of downtown, the only hint the Pistons actually represent Detroit is the interstate exit sign for 8-Mile Road. (Think Eminem). Nonetheless, the last of the NBA's suburban arenas works for the Pistons. They pack the place, they make money, they win titles.
So how about a belated thank-you card to the Kings? Given the inability of their ownership, the city and county, and every other source of public and private leadership, for that matter, to facilitate what obviously requires a creative, collaborative effort, it's time for the Pistons' brain trusts to return the favor. Offer suggestions. Lend an assist. Recommend a shrink if it would bring the parties together - and accelerate the process.
Motivate, encourage, enlighten us.
Build us an arena.
Wilson, who is responsible for arena-related issues and has been the 80-year-old Davidson's most significant management employee for decades, obliged Friday, offering his thoughts during an expansive late-afternoon chat:
* On the viability of private financing in an era when building costs generally range from $225 million to $400 million: "Mr. D is one of those people who says, 'I want to solve my own problems. I don't want to go through boards, through committees. I'll get my zoning permits, but I don't want to be beholden to anyone.' When you do a partnership, everything is a debate. But (today), it makes sense to have a public-private partnership. The city gets certain value from it, so they have to put some money up. And you have to expect ownership to put something in."
* On location: "When the roof caved in at the (north suburban) Silverdome, we had 12 games left, and people were saying, 'Come back downtown.' And we realized when we went down there (Joe Louis Arena), that's where basketball belonged. It was electric. Sometimes, even I look, and I wonder why we're here. But there were political problems. We couldn't get anything done. And it goes back to Davidson's core values. 'Leave me alone. I'll build something the fans will love, that everybody will be proud of, but leave me alone.' Most of our fans lived up here, too."
* On how to energize a stagnant post-Bad Boys fan base: "Even the years we had Grant Hill, we were losing in the first round. The city was totally apathetic. We had an awful lot of tickets left when the Hawks came in. It takes about three years when you've been real good to lose it all. People find other things to do. I used to look on Sacramento with such envy ... people going crazy every game. I thought, 'Boy, it's never going to happen here.' But four to five years ago, when we started our 'going to work' campaign, getting players here who exemplified what the city was about - hard work, overachieving people - it resonated with so many people."
* On the price of a facility: "By virtue of being the only game in town, a new arena in Sacramento doesn't have to be Staples Center. But you don't want a building that handicaps you. It's important to build something that the city, the fans, and the players are proud of. That all goes into players making decisions (to sign)."
* On his parting words about the Kings/Sacramento situation: "You can't let (the Kings) go. There isn't an easy solution, but sometimes a city just has to decide to do something. To a great degree, professional sports legitimizes a city. To Joe fan, Sacramento wasn't a city until the Kings moved there. If they lose them, to a large segment of the (national and international) population, Sacramento disappears off the map. If I'm looking in from a few thousand miles away, you would ask, 'How much can I get the owners to put in? How much can I get the city/county to put in?' and you find something that works."
Palace at a glance
Palace's arena model looks fit for the Kings
Ailene Voisin -- Bee Columnist
Published 2:15 am PDT Saturday, June 18, 2005
AUBURN HILLS, Mich. - Back in the mid-1980s, when arenas were built for less than $100 million, one of the good guys helped out the Bad Boys. Gregg Lukenbill incited the coup that produced the Palace. The Detroit Pistons might not even be here were it not for ... the Sacramento Kings.
True story.
Miracles can happen.
"We had started talking to Gregg," recalled Pistons president Tom Wilson, referring to the Kings' original Sacramento owner. "He actually made a presentation to the Board of Governors. 'Here's what I'm doing. We're still in the warehouse I built for $10 million, and this new one is going to be a newer version (which cost approximately $40 million).' And nobody was building any buildings at that time. But he said it could be serviceable for concerts, for other entertainment areas, and more than anything else, he would own the building. So (Pistons owner) Bill Davidson and I started talking."
That conversation concluded with the Pistons moving from the Pontiac Silverdome into their current home, a 22,076-seat arena that remains a physically stunning yet functional facility that was built for the ages. While virtually all of their contemporaries have become obsolete - those in Orlando, Milwaukee and Sacramento were completed within months of the Palace's final touches in 1988 - Davidson's privately financed project cost more ($90 million) but was worth the investment. An annual face-lift enables the place to retain its sheen. The interior is spacious without being a monstrosity. The concourses are inviting, the press accommodations exceptional, the parking abundant.
So, OK, the visitors locker room is cramped, and the location is shaky. Situated on 61.1 acres approximately 30 miles north of downtown, the only hint the Pistons actually represent Detroit is the interstate exit sign for 8-Mile Road. (Think Eminem). Nonetheless, the last of the NBA's suburban arenas works for the Pistons. They pack the place, they make money, they win titles.
So how about a belated thank-you card to the Kings? Given the inability of their ownership, the city and county, and every other source of public and private leadership, for that matter, to facilitate what obviously requires a creative, collaborative effort, it's time for the Pistons' brain trusts to return the favor. Offer suggestions. Lend an assist. Recommend a shrink if it would bring the parties together - and accelerate the process.
Motivate, encourage, enlighten us.
Build us an arena.
Wilson, who is responsible for arena-related issues and has been the 80-year-old Davidson's most significant management employee for decades, obliged Friday, offering his thoughts during an expansive late-afternoon chat:
* On the viability of private financing in an era when building costs generally range from $225 million to $400 million: "Mr. D is one of those people who says, 'I want to solve my own problems. I don't want to go through boards, through committees. I'll get my zoning permits, but I don't want to be beholden to anyone.' When you do a partnership, everything is a debate. But (today), it makes sense to have a public-private partnership. The city gets certain value from it, so they have to put some money up. And you have to expect ownership to put something in."
* On location: "When the roof caved in at the (north suburban) Silverdome, we had 12 games left, and people were saying, 'Come back downtown.' And we realized when we went down there (Joe Louis Arena), that's where basketball belonged. It was electric. Sometimes, even I look, and I wonder why we're here. But there were political problems. We couldn't get anything done. And it goes back to Davidson's core values. 'Leave me alone. I'll build something the fans will love, that everybody will be proud of, but leave me alone.' Most of our fans lived up here, too."
* On how to energize a stagnant post-Bad Boys fan base: "Even the years we had Grant Hill, we were losing in the first round. The city was totally apathetic. We had an awful lot of tickets left when the Hawks came in. It takes about three years when you've been real good to lose it all. People find other things to do. I used to look on Sacramento with such envy ... people going crazy every game. I thought, 'Boy, it's never going to happen here.' But four to five years ago, when we started our 'going to work' campaign, getting players here who exemplified what the city was about - hard work, overachieving people - it resonated with so many people."
* On the price of a facility: "By virtue of being the only game in town, a new arena in Sacramento doesn't have to be Staples Center. But you don't want a building that handicaps you. It's important to build something that the city, the fans, and the players are proud of. That all goes into players making decisions (to sign)."
* On his parting words about the Kings/Sacramento situation: "You can't let (the Kings) go. There isn't an easy solution, but sometimes a city just has to decide to do something. To a great degree, professional sports legitimizes a city. To Joe fan, Sacramento wasn't a city until the Kings moved there. If they lose them, to a large segment of the (national and international) population, Sacramento disappears off the map. If I'm looking in from a few thousand miles away, you would ask, 'How much can I get the owners to put in? How much can I get the city/county to put in?' and you find something that works."
Palace at a glance
- Constructed for $90 million in 1988.
- Home to the NBA's Pistons and the WNBA’s Shock.
- Financed by Pistons/Shock/Tampa Bay Lightning owner William Davidson.
- Capacity of 22,076 for basketball, 20,804 for hockey.
- Hosts 200 events annually.
- Includes 180 club suites.
