A Basketball Barn

Last week, I shared my memories of watching Creighton Bluejays basketball in the now razed Civic Auditorium in downtown Omaha.

While I loved the atmosphere of the Civic, it paled in comparison to the home of Cornhusker basketball, The NU Coliseum. Also, known as the Old Barn.

The Coliseum was the home of Cornhusker basketball from 1926 to 1976.

I attended as many games as I could between 1973 to 1976.

The Coliseum held 8,500 ecstatic basketball fans.

In November 1972, ground was broken for a new arena on the State Fairgrounds that would nearly double the capacity for basketball crowds.

Bob Devaney lobbied the Nebraska Legislature to approve a five-cent per pack on cigarettes, and he got the votes he needed.

Indirectly responsible was comedian Bob Hope. During a November 1971 performance at the Coliseum, Hope compared it to a barn.

I was lukewarm to the fact that the Cornhuskers would be playing in a new arena.

Here’s why.

The atmosphere of the Coliseum was extremely unique.

The building’s walls were constructed of dark-red bricks.

The Coliseum’s gray 2 inch-by-10-inch wooden plank bleachers snuggled up against the out-of-bounds line on both sides of the court.

The Coliseum — located one block east of Memorial Stadium — had an ancient, battleship-gray scoreboard that hung above the playing floor.

The scoreboard’s horn softly bellowed, giving a player waiting to enter the game permission to trot onto the floor.

Huge Big Eight Conference banners hung from the ceiling.

A pistol was fired proclaiming halftime and the game’s end.

The clapping of hands in 4/4 time while the pep band played “Hail Varsity” from the east stands certainly added to the Coliseum’s charisma.

The crowd stood from the opening tip until Nebraska scored its first basket.

NU band members harassed the opposition by purposely tooting sour notes on their horns and pounding the bass drums during free throws.

The Coliseum didn’t possess a fancy electronic scoreboard with huge advertisements and instant replays.

Absent was a loud-mouthed public address announcer pandering pizza, banks, and cappuccino.

A Coca-Cola in a throw-away paper cup cost 50 cents, as did a hot dog.

Cigarette smokers were only allowed to inhale in the hallways and lobby away from the court and crowd. But the smoke still managed to find its way to the main floor and migrate to the giant lights that hung about 30 feet above the court, creating a light fog.

The Coliseum resembled a cozy neighborhood bar.

It didn’t matter if a fan was old, young, fat, thin, rich, or poor; everyone sat on a gray wooden plank. There were no luxury suites or comfy cushioned seats with a backrest. A person’s socio-economic status was non-existent.

The Coliseum was fun, it was family, and it was the home to great entertainment.

The Old Barn was one of the very few buildings that truly possessed a personality … it was as if Ralph Kramden had been converted to bricks, mortar, and steel.

How sweet it was!