When I got to the Golden Ox parking lot, north of the arena, I got out of the car and stared at the arena for a while and thought, “No, this arena cannot be razed it is too important a structure, with too much Kansas City history inside.” Circling the arena on the way to the Golden Ox, I kept peering at it from different angles. Oh, my! I had forgotten how impressive and distinctive it is, with those big, white, erector-set trusses that support the arena from above and at both ends. I did some quick calculations and figured that I had attended well over 100 events at the arena, maybe 200, maybe more than that.Īnd the structure itself.

So, last night as I coursed down that viaduct and passed Lot A, I thought about the good times I had had at the arena. For this native of Louisville, Kentucky, which had no major league franchises, it was big. I attended many Kansas City Kings and Kansas City Scouts games there, and even though the teams were mostly bad, it was the NBA and the NHL - right there, right then - in Kansas City. And it was always wet down there.īut the arena, blue on the inside and with gently sloping banks of seats, offered good sight lines and was relatively comfortable. It was a mishmash of rocky patches, potholes and mud pools. As I recall, the lot was never properly paved. Lot A is a relatively narrow hodgepodge, with pockets of parking here and there, broken up by the big concrete piers that support the curving viaduct above. I used to park in Lot A, which is on the west side of the arena, beneath the viaduct that peels off Cesar Chavez avenue and swings down, down, down into the lowest point of the arena grounds.

The best concert I ever saw - Paul McCartney & Wings - took place there in May 1976. And once it was up, I began attending events there, including basketball and hockey games, American Royal events and, of course, concerts. As an up-and-coming political reporter, I wrote several stories about the negotiations and maneuvering to get Kemper Arena constructed. When I was a young reporter - and a single young man - in the early 1970s, Kemper Arena had been a significant part of my life. In the back of my mind, I also looked forward to once again seeing Kemper Arena - a venue that had quietly and unnoticeably receded into my past. Visions of a charbroiled steak cooked over curling flames danced in my head.īut already I jump ahead. We decided to meet at the bar at 6:30 and maybe have dinner there.

With the Golden Ox closing on Saturday, Patty and I have been wanting to go down there, for old times’ sake, to see the old haunt one last time.

Golden ox lot