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Toledo Sports Arena
The Sports Arena, formerly at 1 Main St. in Toledo, Ohio opened with its first event "Holiday On Ice" on November 13, 1947. Initially it was home to the Toledo Mercurys hockey team but was also a multi purpose arena.
It had permanent bleacher style seating for more than 5,000 with an additional 2,500 seats when utilizing the floor and boasted a 40 foot by 56 foot stage.1
Boxing was also popular at the Arena.
By the mid 1950s the Arena was expanded with a new 100 foot by 300 foot Convention Hall on the East side providing an additional 30,000 square feet that could be divided by folding doors into three rooms. Each was 33 feet by 50 feet and seated 250. There was a common lobby between the two buildings and they could used independently or together. Together there was more than 50,000 square feet of exhibition or floor space. Surrounding it was an 11-acre flood-lighted parking lot for more than 1,200 cars.1
Love Me Tender, the song, was released on November 16, 1956, during which, Elvis had taken time off to go to Las Vegas for a mini-vacation. The song had gone to No. 1, with "Don't Be Cruel"/"Hound Dog" in the No. 2 slot. For the first time since Billboard began compiling its charts, the No. 1 and No. 2 positions were held by the same artist. "Love Me Tender" also had another distinction: it was the first song Elvis recorded that didn't include the Blue Moon Boys.3 When Love Me Tender, the film, was released on November 21st, that, too, set a record with the release of 550 prints by Twentieth Century-Fox, the largest release of a film ever issued.3
On Thanksgiving Day, November 22nd, of 1956, Elvis, Scotty, Bill and DJ made their only (2) appearance(s) together in Toledo on the first stop of a 4 day tour that also included Cleveland and Troy, Ohio and then Louisville.
The review in the Toledo Blade the following day announced "Its A
Screeching Reception for Elvis" and read:
The screaming youngsters frequently bordered on hysteria but generally were well behaved at both performances, holding their seats until the final seconds of his 30-minute stints when they surged uncontrollably to the stage in a solid mass. But by the time they got there, Elvis was gone.2
Presley, who in the space of a year has soared from a $35 a week truck driver in Memphis, Tenn., to a singing sensation who can take home better than $16,000 for a one-day stand in Toledo, was seen here by more persons than watched Adlai E. Stevenson and Vice President Nixon combined. And their talks were free.2
To hear Elvis, the teenagers scraped together anywhere from $2 to $2.50 for tickets and paid out countless more for EP hats, EP souvenir albums, EP photographs, EP popcorn and even EP binoculars.2
His half-hour of rock and roll songs, which he accompanies with torso twistings described in the burlesque trade as “bumps and grinds,” followed two hours of hastily contrived vaudeville acts and a series of “warm ups” designed to put the kids in a proper emotional state to receive him.2
They were told, by a glib master of ceremonies, how to scream, when to scream and where to scream. But he carefully neglected to tell them why. And that is the phenomenon of Elvis Presley.2
The cut-off point of his popularity was obvious. The scattering of 10 and 11-year-olds in the audience couldn’t have cared less.2
Their reactions ranged from utter indifference to occasional screams which, they could see by looking about, appeared to be the thing to do. They liked the magician on the program better.2
It was their slightly older sisters whose emotions gave away in constant screaming that subsided only when Elvis paused between numbers, and then frequently found peace in quiet sobbing.2
Elvis Presley boasts he has never had a music lesson, an educational void he clearly demonstrated when he performed. But it made no difference.2
The all but hysterical screams that accompanied his every number completely obliterated whatever sounds he was making vocally, or might have made on his standard prop — a huge guitar that he strums from time to time but never plays.2
Presley appeared on stage after two hours of wholesome entertainment. He was immediately preceded by a quartet that suddenly whipped the tempo into the pulsating rock and roll rhythm that Elvis has made his specialty.2
The tension mounted until he appeared at the rear of the stage. Presley stumbled forward, looked about in an almost bewildered amazement and launched into his first number. 2
It brought the house down. From the opening chord, nothing could be heard but a steady, high-pitched scream, pierced occasionally by pleas of “Over here, Elvis.”
“Friends,” Elvis groans, “theah have been some requests fo ...” he pauses to stroke his trademarked side-burns “... fo a recohd of mine ...” again he pauses, as if to remember the name “ ... ‘Don’t Be Cruel.’” 2
Again the deafening scream erased the song. The noise rose to a higher pitch each time Presley writhed his torso in rhythm with the beat, or stumbled across the stage in a relaxation that bordered on utter collapse. At the matinee, which was overwhelmingly teen-age in contrast to the somewhat more adult audience last night, Elvis closed out with his hit, “Houn’ Dog.” 2
It was the signal for the surge to the stage by thousands of youngsters who obediently had kept in their seats throughout the performance. They broke out and jammed down the aisles as an extra crew of 20 policemen watched helplessly. Presley escaped through the rear of the arena to an auto that carried him to the Commodore Perry Hotel. Last night it carried him to the only violence of his stay here.2
Seated in the Shalimar Room, with his press agent and three musicians, he was accosted by Louis John Balint, 19, of 517 South St. Clair St., who shouted “My wife carries your picture but doesn’t carry mine.” The free-for-all that followed was broken up by police who found Presley pummeling his accuser who, meanwhile, was endeavoring to toss one of the musicians, Scotty Moore, over a railing that surrounds the Shalimar Room Terrace. In Municipal Court this morning, Balint pleaded guilty to creating a disturbance and was sentenced to seven days in the Workhouse because of his inability to pay a fine of $10 and costs of $9.60. Balint said he and his wife, Joann, were separated three weeks ago. She is living in Los Angeles.2
The press agent the paper referred to was Oscar Davis, Parker's assistant, and it was Scotty, Bill and DJ that were there. According to Scotty, Balint drew back like he was going to throw a shot and I jumped on his back," says Scotty. “There was a railing there—one of those things they put besides steps—and he tried to roll me over his back onto the railing. He actually threw me over the railing. But by that time, Elvis was absolutely using him as a punching bag. He was real fast. Quick as lightning with his hands. He would have made a good fighter, but that would have messed up his face.3 When the police arrived to break up the fight, six teenage girls who had been watching from the lobby rushed up and gave their names as witnesses. The police officers took the man off to jail and didn't file charges against Elvis. Contacted later by a newspaper reporter, one of the police officers said, "Presley's no slouch. He was really working that guy over." 3 Balint was formerly a drama student in Los Angeles and only spent two days in the workhouse. His father had read the account in the paper and wired him $35.4 Later that week the Toledo Blade ran a story that said the fight had been fixed. They wrote:
The next day the LA paper reported that Balint's wife backed up her husband’s story that she never carried a picture Elvis. She said, “I don’t like him, but then I don’t like most singers. But I do think Liberace is pretty good.” 5 When he was asked if the fight had been staged, Colonel Parker screamed out angry denials at reporters, then—after thinking about it a while—he calmed down and said, “Anyway, they’ve got Elvis's name spelled right." Scotty says if the man was hired to start a fight it wasn't by Elvis—and "it damn sure wasn't me." 3 That same week ,Tommy Dorsey, who along with his brother Jimmy hosted Stageshow on CBS where Elvis and the boys had made their first National Television appearances at the beginning of the year, died at his home in Greenwich, CT.
For Ice Hockey, the Sports Arena was home to the Mercurys until 1962 followed by the Blades (1963–1970), the Hornets (1970–1974), Goaldiggers (1974–1986) and finally Toledo Storm (1991–2007).6
In its day it had been also hosted wrestling, car shows and graduations and the Shriner's Circus and the Barnum Bailey Circus almost every year. Michael Jackson and the Jackson 5 played there. So did Bruce Springsteen, Aerosmith, Van Halen, Pearl Jam, Neil Young, Young Jeezy, Johnny Cash, Nine Inch Nails, Kid Rock, Bob Seger, and countless other acts over the years.7
The Toledo Sports Arena held it's final event on April 28, 2007. It was an extreme toughman event much like the Ultimate Fighting Championship, a U.S. based mixed martial arts competition.7
The Arena was demolished the following August. There are plans for a new arena across the river.7 page added October 15, 2009 All ads and articles, except where specified are courtesy the Toledo-Lucas County Public Library
1 courtesy brochure from
the Toledo-Lucas
County Public Library See also Elvis was king at the Sports Arena by Ryan E. Smith
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All photos on this site (that we didn't borrow) unless otherwise indicated are the property of either Scotty Moore or James V. Roy and unauthorized use or reproduction is prohibited. |
