Lauren

Section Y
Row 17
Seats 5 & 6

By Lauren Hart


From the day I was born, this was the place where so many of the Hart family memories were created. A young mom took her three babies, one by one, to see their first hockey game. We saw the first Stanley Cup come to Philadelphia. There were victories, defeats, and a real loss. The Russian Army team took on the Flyers while the Cold War was actually happening. Brother and sister bonded. Mother and daughter went through the dreaded teens. A son saw his dad hold the coolest job on earth, and friendships were made. Mischievous kids ran through the concourse, hid under the bleachers, and worked on sneaking past the security guards. We watched in awe as our heroes walked like giants through the hallways underneath the building. Nervous boyfriends tried to impress, and a young aspiring singer longed to get a chance to sing on that ice. Proud kids watched from afar as their father grew into a legend and Dad reigned as a king from the press box. Fifty nights a year we cheered our team on as they took the ice, and more importantly, our family grew, connected and learned to dream.

How many times did we cross that bridge from our home in South Jersey and headed to “THE” building? I walked proudly through the parking lot next to my father. I took my seat and watched him make the climb to the press box all the way at the top of the Spectrum. On his way up, the regulars stopped him to talk, or they just cheered him as he made his way. Somewhere in that building, he was always busy holding court.

In between games I saw my first concert (Billy Joel). I thought about running away with the circus and becoming a trapeze artist. I put on my blue costume at the annual Flyers Christmas Skate party with visions of Dorothy Hamill in my head. I hung out with Cindy Lauper and Captain Lou Albana (OK, now who remembers that!) and I got to sing before a Tori Amos concert.

And…..one day I got the chance to sing the Anthem with knees knocking and breathless in the zamboni tunnel while Wayne Gretsky walked by. I certainly never would have guessed what this song and the relationship with this team would eventually become, and I would never have imagined what a building could become to mean to a human being.

I’m sure many other fans have shared these exact same memories. For our family, they were life changing. Time has a way of turning regular moments into legend. Somehow they became larger than life itself. Over the years, my Spectrum memories have been folded and tucked away safely into my world.

On October 1st, the Flyers played their last official game in the building. I was preparing for my final God Bless America alongside the memory of Kate Smith. I heard my father’s voice ringing out: “Good Night, Good Hockey”. All at once I felt the emotion of a lifetime. I wasn’t ready to feel breathless that way again, but I did. The reality of the moment suddenly occurred to me. I was letting go of something very special, and I wasn’t sure the words and the song would find their way. Fortunately it worked, and I felt extremely proud. I felt so thankful that I was able to be the one standing there after all this time.