Old barn was a BLAST

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 22/02/2015 (4059 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Opened with a gala concert by the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra in October 1955, just in time for the start of the Western Professional Hockey League season, the Winnipeg Arena quickly became the premier local venue for hockey, family events and concerts. The 9,500-seat arena replaced Shea’s Amphitheatre (named for Shea’s Brewery), which had a capacity of 5,000 and was located on the site where Great-West Life’s headquarters now stands.

As a kid, going to an event at the Winnipeg Arena was a big deal. I often attended Sunday-afternoon hockey games with my dad and brother, Ron, watching the Winnipeg Warriors or Winnipeg Maroons. Admission was $1 for adults, free for kids. I don’t remember much about the quality of the hockey. My attention was focused on candy, the peanut vendors and waiting for the Zamboni to appear. Dad worked with Bill (the Beast) Juzda at the Canadian Pacific Railway and took me down to the bench before a game to meet him when he played for the Maroons after his time in the NHL. He remembers my shock at the Beast’s scarred face.

“That’s the mark of a good defenceman,” Dad told me.

The fights also caught my attention, particularly the time a goalie skated the length of the ice to punch the opposing goalie, then turned around and skated back. One game went long because of frequent fights, prompting Dad to holler to the melee, “Hurry up, will ya! My Sunday dinner’s waiting on the table!”

We always took in the Shrine Circus, and besides the bears, clowns in Volkswagens and trapeze acts, I vividly recall the rush of excitement when Chuck (the Rifleman) Connors circled the arena floor in a chuckwagon, twirling his rifle in the air as Johnny Crawford galloped alongside on horseback. Hugh (Wyatt Earp) O’Brien also made an appearance one year (I think I still have his picture somewhere), staging a fake gunfight with local teens as the bad guys. O’Brien demonstrated his questionable marksmanship by shooting balloons that, in reality, were pricked by thumbtacks in the hands of those holding them. He was firing blanks. He was, after all, a Hollywood actor playing a part. Jay North, a.k.a. Dennis the Menace, Edd (Kookie) Byrnes from 77 Sunset Strip being driven around in a hotrod as he combed his hair, and Beaver and Wally Cleaver (Jerry Mathers and Tony Dow) of Leave it to Beaver headlined other years. Heady times, indeed.

The Ice Capades and the Harlem Globetrotters (Meadowlark Lemon was a personal favourite) were annual events we also took in at the arena, along with a uniquely Winnipeg spectacle known as Schmockey Night.

Beginning in 1953 at Shea’s Amphiteatre before relocating to the arena, Schmockey Night was a fun-filled evening of broomball played by local media and sports personalities, in aid of the Society for the Manitobans with Disabilities charity. Slapstick, pies, skits and celebrity guests were also part of the fun, along with precision skating from the Blue Bomberettes. Pianist Robbie McDougall was dragged around the ice one year while he played MacArthur Park. The final Schmockey Night took place in 1992.

“I sat on the Schmockey Night committee for years,” says Candace Masters. “We had some interesting, fun times. I remember we had the cast of Fame and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, not to mention lots and lots of whipped-cream pies.”

I recall attending a couple of wrestling matches at the arena where there were more fights in the crowd than in the ring. (At least the audience fights were real.) Names such as Whipper Billy Watson, Verne Gagne, Lord Athol Layton, Yukon Eric, Ed Carpentier, Hard Boiled Haggerty, Haystack Calhoun, Gene Kiniski and Killer Kowalski still bring a smile to my face.

Decades later, my kids and I took in WWF wrestling matches, watching the likes of Jake the Snake, Rowdy Roddy Piper (who was raised in Winnipeg) and Hulk Hogan in their prime. Track meets and military tattoos also brought our family out to the arena. Anyone remember the Royal Lipizzan Stallions?

Car shows were another reason to head to the arena. When I was maybe 10 or 11, I entered a model car show there, proudly displaying the souped-up 1949 Mercury model I had toiled for endless hours puttying, sanding, gluing and painting. When I went with my friends the next day to show off my craftsmanship, the model was gone, seemingly stolen by someone envious of my skills. The Everly Brothers appeared at an arena car show in the mid-’60s, their shimmering harmonies intact even though they never spoke to each other. They entered and exited from separate sides of the stage.

Of course, hockey was the arena’s main attraction, especially once the WHA came to town in 1972, bringing Bobby Hull, a.k.a. the Golden Jet, with it. Hull was a bona fide superstar in our fair city. Stories of his on-ice exploits are legendary.

“I was at a Birmingham Bulls-Jets game when Steve Durbano ripped off Bobby Hull’s weaved wig,” recalls Ted Arichteff. “All hell broke loose. It’s amazing no one got killed. Another game, the puck hit someone in the head. Lots of blood. St. John’s Ambulance took the guy away. Bobby held up the game and stood at the glass until he got the thumbs-up from the medical staff. You could see he was very concerned.”

Denis Penner remembers the time a fan threw a beer at the Jets bench. Hull ran up the concrete stairs in his skates after him.

My first arena rock concert was Paul Revere & the Raiders in early 1966. Paul Birston and I watched enthralled as Mark, Paul, Fang, Harpo and Smitty ran through all their steps dressed in full revolutionary regalia. Oddly, opening acts the Deverons and the Fifth played some of the same songs in their sets. One would have thought they might have talked this out beforehand.

In July 1966, the Rolling Stones graced our arena stage. Patti Ireland caught a glimpse of Brian Jones as the band’s limo headed into the bowels of the old barn. Jones smiled and waved at her. A security guard let her in free through the backstage.

“My heart still pounds recalling watching the Stones play and the smile I got from Brian Jones,” she gushes.

Canada’s centennial was celebrated with a Monkees concert, ironically held on April 1, 1967, wherein the band emerged from giant speaker cabinets to deafening squeals of delight. Backing band the Candy Store Prophets was hidden behind curtains as the cuddly quartet did their thing out front.

The Who smashed fake speaker cabinets when they appeared before Herman’s Hermits in August of that year, an oddball billing that brought out teenyboppers, hard rockers and acid freaks (for psychedelic openers the Blues Magoos in their ‘electric suits’). Throughout their set, the Who were regaled with “We want Herman” from the girls in attendance.

San Francisco psychedelic specialists Jefferson Airplane played on Remembrance Day. The Guess Who opened the show, with Randy Bachman sporting a Union Jack poncho, earning the wrath of veterans on CJOB’s Beefs & Bouquets the next day.

Then there was the time supporting act Humble Pie blew away headliners Ten Years After (and everyone’s ear drums) with one of the strongest sets I’ve ever witnessed. Neil Young brought his country band to the arena in ’84 and came back in ’96 with Crazy Horse in full-on grunge mode.

ManPop 70 was the arena’s finest hour, salvaging a drenched outdoor festival by hastily moving it inside. Led Zeppelin were not required to perform due to a rain clause in their contract but were shamed into appearing by singer Dianne Heatherington. With a makeshift stage and sound system cobbled together from various Garnet amplifiers, Zeppelin came out well past midnight and performed for nearly two hours to a weary, rain-soaked but mesmerized throng, all under the watchful eyes of the Queen’s giant portrait.

My own arena performance came opening for Ike & Tina Turner in the spring of 1972. I played my fingers off, only to be informed by my girlfriend afterwards no one could hear a note. Backstage, Tina was gracious, Ike was scary and the Ikettes were hot.

Other personal highlights include Eric Clapton and Mark Knopfler’s duelling guitars on Layla, Genesis with Phil Collins, Alice Cooper’s guillotine act, the Electric Light Orchestra in their spaceship and Rod (the Mod) Stewart prancing in rooster hair. Rick Shukster and I smuggled bottles of Baby Duck under our coats for an Alice Cooper concert only to have one bottle fall out, smashing on the floor as we headed to our seats. We just kept on walking.

My last arena concert was my hero Bob Dylan’s appearance. My eyes welled with tears as he mumbled his way through Like a Rolling Stone. Anyone else notice the Bobster’s Oscar statuette perched on his Fender amp throughout his set?

Past its prime and deemed inadequate for modern hockey realities, the Winnipeg Arena was demolished in March 2006 after sitting empty for 16 months after the opening of the MTS Centre.

I was sad to see the old barn go under the wrecking ball, but it lives on in our memories (and not just of those awful urinal troughs).

For my dad, John (Jack) Alan Einarson, who passed away Tuesday.