THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1997, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, February 20, 1997 TAG: 9702200076
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Bob Molinaro
LENGTH: 67 lines
We are eating Oklahoma City's dust, and a lot of dust it is.
We have been spotted in Columbus, Ohio's, rear-view mirror.
Our image has been tossed into the dustbin with Hamilton (where's that?), Ontario's.
So please, no more delusions of grandeur from public officials or civic boosters.
Repeat: We finished behind Oklahoma City!
This is a reality check.
We are nothing to the National Hockey League.
And now that George Shinn's Rhinos have been issued a tranquilizer dart, you can't help but wonder: Was Hampton Roads ever a believable contender for an NHL expansion franchise?
``Somewhere way down the line,'' NHL commissioner Gary Bettman said when asked about Hampton Roads' chances of landing a big-league operation of any kind.
Notice his use of the word ``way.''
When a community gets a whipping from Oklahoma City, can it ever again be taken seriously as a future site for major league sports?
``It wasn't going to happen now for Hampton Roads,'' Bettman said during the Wednesday conference call.
Not now, but possibly ``way down the line.'' You don't have to be hit by a Zamboni to get the drift.
``The Rhinos logo was terrific,'' Bettman said, trying to be nice. ``People admired it.''
Shinn's bid was cute, in other words. Cute and harmless, like a stuffed Rhino.
So now it's time to regroup, reassess and reflect.
If it weren't for Shinn's money, clout and track record with the NBA Charlotte Hornets, the NHL probably never would have accepted Hampton Roads' phone calls in the first place.
Shinn was our answered prayer, a businessman with deep pockets and credible connections who wouldn't take no for an answer. As a promoter, he beat against the currents of local apathy and political discord in an attempt to give Hampton Roads something the community wasn't even sure it wanted.
``Of all the factors,'' Bettman said of the NHL's expansion assessment process, ``ownership was most important.''
If ownership was the No. 1 priority and Shinn is thought to be held in considerable esteem, what does that say for the Rhinos' miserable finish?
It says, perhaps, that some elected officials, citizens and media members have not a clue concerning Hampton Roads' real-world identity.
We were told that an arena deal was done. But did it sound done? Really done? Perhaps doubts about regional cooperation hurt the Rhinos' bid.
Any postmortem of this sort involves some guesswork. But as we waited for the other skate to drop, what probably damaged Hampton Roads' NHL aspirations most is the perception people on the outside had of a community they barely knew existed.
To one degree or another, almost every community flatters itself. Greensboro, N.C., believes it is catching up with Charlotte; Charlotte pictures itself the next Atlanta; Atlanta thinks it's a budding New York City.
The same sort of boosterism was at work in efforts to overrate Hampton Roads' opportunity for an NHL franchise.
It seems obvious now, doesn't it? We were never really in the hunt. Hampton Roads was never a player.
Maybe a big-time arena, built without the promise of a primary tenant, would change the way others perceive our area. Way down the line.
For now, though, Hampton Roads would do well to plug into reality.
KEYWORDS: NATIONAL HOCKEY LEAGUE FRANCHISE EXPANSION ARENA