In 20 years of attending professional wrestling shows, I’ve been to some highly distinctive venues, from football and baseball stadiums to TV studios to abandoned supermarkets to a Macclesfield fairground. But none was more memorable than a dingy building on the corner of Swanson and Ritner Streets in South Philadelphia.
In August 1996 I took what was left of my student loan and made my first stateside trip specifically to visit the Ritner Street Community Center — or as it was better known, the ECW Arena. It was an cramped, dirty hall with inadequate bathroom facilities in the midst of a run-down area similar to a British industrial estate… and I loved it.
By the time this issue of FSM goes to press, there is a strong likelihood that the building’s 19-year run housing wrestling events will have come to an end. But thanks to its days as the home base of Extreme Championship Wrestling, it will live on in the memories of wrestling fans for years to come, and will surely never lose its record as the only venue to host shows from WWE, ECW, TNA and New Japan, among many others.
While the building is often referred to derogatively as a bingo hall, first-time visitors invariably noted the venue was more reminiscent of a warehouse, unrecognisable as sports venue were it not for a small sign above the door. That’s because in its initial years it was indeed a warehouse, handily located directly next to a set of freight railroad tracks.
In 1986 the building was bought by local law firm Stein and Silverman and became known as Viking Hall. The name came not from a sports team but rather from a local mummers club, part of a unique Philadelphia tradition. The clubs were local social groups whose main activity each year was to take part in a costume parade, with each club competing to put on the best themed presentation with the most elaborate floats and outfits.
The group began using the venue to store the floats and costumes (along with a collection of dusty sewing machines which left me particular confused when I took a trip backstage upon my first visit to the venue). As part of an ongoing fundraising drive for the parades, the Vikings also began holding bingo events at midnight on each Saturday. They also paved over the railroad tracks to extend Ritner Street, which hadn’t previously had an intersection with Swanson, a fact that often baffled out-of-town fans relying on public transport and journey planners that added to the mystique of the arena by apparently denying its location existed.
In May 1993, Philadelphia’s Eastern Championship Wrestling began holding regular shows at the building. Originally the group would run live events on a Saturday ever three weeks or so, followed by dedicated TV tapings the following morning, with the audience often recruited from local bars and restaurants in a desperate attempt to make up the numbers. Eventually the promotion began simply creating a TV show from scratch, using footage from the main Saturday shows (and later from other venues), promos filmed after the show into the early hours at a nearby hotel, and musical packages. The format not only allowed more variety in each week’s content, but also left scope to show bouts in clip form when the creativity and ambition of some performers exceeded their abilities.
While running the venue, ECW had just two main guidelines to follow to keep the building’s management happy. Firstly, they had near free reign over how they used the available space as long as they repaired any damage. That was memorably put to the test during a particularly wild arena-wide brawl between the Headhunters and Miguel Perez Jr & Crash the Terminator (Bill DeMott) which saw one of the mammoth Headhunters whipped straight through the plasterboard that divided the “arena” from the backstage area. Secondly, the show had to be over in time for the midnight bingo game. With ECW under Paul Heyman notorious for sloppy timekeeping, there were several occasions when the largely twenty-something male audience filed out of the building to be met by an impatient queue of bingo devotees.
When it came to facilities, the ECW Arena of the early-to-mid 90s would certainly not have featured had Philly made an Olympics bid. There was no locker room as such, rather an open space with makeshift tables and the odd chair. As Chris Jericho wrote of his first visit to the building: “It seemed like the whole place was under construction. The backstage area was dirty and full of trash, with a gungy bathroom and a shower that was so filthy, a Mexican toilet wash would have been better.”
The closet thing to a facility back stage was a staircase running up to the main stage area on which wrestlers would often gather to watch the show. The stairs also served as a platform from which Paul Heyman would address the wrestlers before the show in a style reminiscent of an head coach, army general or KoolAid-toting cult leader Jim Jones, depending on your viewpoint.
The backstage area also featured as a key part in a memorable 1994 angle when Tommy Dreamer accidentally “blinded” the Sandman with a lit cigarette, with the cameras returning to the locker room amidst a flurry of real names, cinema verite camera shakes and foul language. Years before Vince Russo came to power with his own brand of “shoot style” angles, the sight of babyfaces and heels gathered together in panic proved so successful that many of the ECW fans who “knew” how wrestling worked were taken in, only to be shocked a few weeks later when Sandman tore off his bandages and attacked Dreamer during what was supposed to be a retirement ceremony.
Things weren’t much more glamorous on the fans’ side of the curtain. There was no permanent seating, simply three or four rows of chairs and then temporary “bleacher” stands, where sitting down simply wasn’t an option. Standing on the back row made for a particularly hairy experience as, were wrestlers to brawl into your section of the building, there was a fair chance you’d find yourself leaping to safety.
The toilet facilities were not only completely inadequate for the size of the crowds at ECW shows, but were invariably in such a poor state that only the desperate would visit. Indeed, the layout of the building meant that from some positions you were looking at a 30-plus minute journey barging your way past the fans who’d arrived too late to secure a seat and were cluttering up every available aisleway for four hours or more.
At times the claimed attendance figures for ECW shows were as high as 1,500 or even 2,000, though even the simplest analysis of video of the events and the layout shows this was a ridiculous exaggeration. Still, the crowd on hand often looked to be stretching the official fire department occupancy limit of 1,060 and the space available was far smaller than it appeared on television. But the crowds were worth withstanding simply for the fact that even the worst seat in the house was a matter of yards from the ring.
While a bland brick building from the outside, the interior did have some notable physical characteristics that played an important role in the development of the ECW “hardcore” style. There were two separate balconies as well as the main split-level stage, creating plenty of opportunities — exploited frequently — for wrestlers to perform daredevil leaps or be thrown to their doom, depending on their particular role.
If you were going to brawl around a venue, the ECW Arena was the place to do it, and if you were more interested in creating dramatic video footage than giving the fans on hand a clear view, there was even scope to take the contest outside, the most memorable example being a Rey Mysterio Jr-Juventud Guerrera match that wound up with a huracanrana off a car bonnet.
There were limits though: a planned match where wrestlers would do tables-based battle beneath an adjacent underpass below I-95 (the main motorway on the US East Coast) was cancelled after complaints from neighbouring residents concerned about disruption. That was quite the statement given that the parking lots surrounding the building would often be filled hours before the show by fans holding impromptu tailgate parties with little respect for licensing laws.
The building was also noticeable for somehow managing to be uncomfortable at any time of year, lacking either working air conditioning or heating. Referee Jim Molineaux told WWE.com that ” Whatever it was outside, you experienced it even worse on the inside. The summers were awful, and when it rained or snowed, you would know it because the water would leak through the holes in the ceiling.”
But as distinctive as the ECW Arena was, it’s reputation was enhanced not just by the wrestling action on offer, but by the fans. One arena regular was Gabe Sapolsky who went on to work for the promotion before running Ring of Honor, Dragon Gate USA and Evolve. He argues that the audience was even more important than the arena itself: “The fans were the most important element and they made the atmosphere. The building itself was a perfect size so that is what added to the atmosphere, but without the fans you have nothing.”
And what fans they were. In some ways it was a crowd like none other in wrestling history: aside from the teenage girl audience of 1980s All Japan Women, there has probably never been such a culturally non-diverse group of fans in one building. If you weren’t a male aged between 18 and 35 with some combination of long hair, unkempt attire or a rotund physique, you were going to stand out in the ECW Arena.
Yet in other ways it was the last of the old-style territory crowds, with the same fans sitting in the same seats for every show. In later years a scheme known as Club ECW allowed fans to buy the same ringside seats for four consecutive shows and then have the right to renew the allocation in the style of a season ticket. But initially it took a little extra work to get prime position opposite the main camera, the pioneer being John “Hat Guy” Bailey who earned his slot by taking tickets on the door; when he took his seat and placed a gaudy straw hat upon his head, it was showtime.
Bailey would consistently sit next to Paul Mellows, better known as Sign Guy, whose poster-based commentary served as a particularly effective form of fan feedback and even inspired a new member of the Dudley clan, which at this point consisted of an entire crew of supposed oddball brothers.
The thousand or so people who crammed the ECW Arena every few weeks have been described as both the best and worst things that happened to the wrestling business in the 1990s. Best because their undisputed passion and instant feedback inspired a generation of grapplers who, whatever their style, quickly learned that doing the bare minimum to get by was no longer sufficient. But worst because, no matter how much the Philadelphia regulars may have prided themselves on appreciating technical grappling or showing respect, they inspired a generation of fans who believed they were part of the show and that “witty” or plain abusive chants and eagerly shouting when a wrestler screws up a move are as, or even more, important than the in-ring action itself.
But even after ECW went out of business, those fans helped ensure the arena remained a key part of the independent circuit. In part this was simply promotions trying to capture some of the magic of ECW, with the Blue Meanie’s 3PW being something of a tribute to the promotions earlier years, while Major League Wrestling (which ran one show at the arena) appeared reminiscent of its days on national television.
In time though, the arena became an attraction in its own right. Sapolsky explains that “Every diehard wrestling fan on the East Coast knows where the building is so all you have to do is say you have a show there and people know how to get there. That is a big plus when you promote so you don’t have to try to educate people on where to go.”
In total 29 promotions have now run the building, a record surely beaten only by Tokyo’s Korakuen Hall. Combat Zone is actually the most frequent visitor with its 120 shows beating out the 105 events held by ECW. The building has even made it onto the silver screen, serving as a location for scenes in both Rocky Balboa and The Wrestler.
Even a method actor such as Mickey Rourke might have balked at visiting the building in its early days, and the same could be said of WWE which brought its version of ECW “back home” in 2006. But by this point the building had been both renamed (variously known as the XPW Arena, Alhambra Arena, simply The Arena, and finally the Asylum Arena) and revamped, with everything from clean paintwork to genuine backstage facilities. The new-look building has played host to regular boxing shows (winning a national venue of the year award), along with MMA events and concerts.
Now though, the building is about to undergo dramatic changes. A new leaseholder plans to effectively gut the building, replacing the current bathrooms with a new backstage area. Meanwhile the dividing wall that currently holds the Eagles Nest balcony will be removed to expand the main arena right the way up to the adjacent building (a discount clothes store), changing the interior of the venue beyond recognition. While wrestling won’t necessarily be banned as such, it appears a combination of a significant rental hike and a less relaxed attitude to the liberal use promotions have made of the building in the past means that even if a wrestling group does find it financially viable to run, the atmosphere and surroundings will bare no resemblance to the glory days of ECW.
But while some are saddened by the demise of the venue, others are more philosophical. Lou D’Angeli, better known as the aforementioned Sign Guy Dudley, writes that “The content shapes the public’s perception of the four-walls surrounding whatever is taking place. For instance, would we have an ECW Arena if the product was amateur wrestling or a third-rate indy? Nope. We would have a bingo hall that had wrestling; that’s it. The emotional baggage you hold with ANY venue/object comes from the content and who you saw or experienced said content with.
“Really you could feel the same connection [with] an arena you saw a concert at, [or] the swing set by where you kissed your first girl/boy at before you ran home…Yeah, that’s the swing set by where it happened and that’s the arena that the band played in…but once that element is gone it’s just an arena…or it’s just a swing set… So, listen, the ECW Arena WE know closed [the day of the last ECW show] on December 23, 2000.”
And while the major national promotions mocked the humble base of ECW, arena regular Bob Magee remains certain the building was a truly special place, citing it’s appeal as “the combination of the dedicated fanbase, the product being put on by ECW, and the anything-goes atmosphere of the building. Kind of one of those things like jazz or sexual appeal…if it has to be explained it won’t be fully understood.”
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Memorable Arena Moments
19 June 1993: A mystery woman later revealed as Angel is attacked after a bout and left fully topless to the delight of the crowd.
1&2 October 1993: A two-night “Bloodfeasts” taping sees the debuts of Sabu and the Tazmaniac (Taz) against one another, along with first appearance of Tommy Dreamer, who would remain with the company until its closure.
27 August 1994: Moments after winning the NWA World title in a tournament, Shane Douglas throws down the belt and proclaims himself the first champion of a rebranded Extreme Championship Wrestling.
28 October 1995: The main event ends in chaos when an attempted fire angle ends with both Terry Funk and a ringside fan burned by a flaming towel.
17 February 1996: WCW wrestler Brian Pillman makes an unexpected appearance, threatening to “yank out my Johnson and piss in this hellhole.”
22 June 1996: As a broken ring takes more than an hour to repair, the crowd is kept occupied as valet Kimona Wanaleia performs a full strip tease.
26 October 1996: Raven re-enacts the Crucifixion with the Sandman and barbed wire, much to the disgust of guest and newly-crowned Olympic gold medallist Kurt Angle.
13 April 1997: ECW holds its first PPV event, Barely Legal, narrowly avoiding the twin disasters of a microphone failure seconds before going on air and an electrical blowout moments after the show concluded.
23 December 2000: Amid rumors of financial peril, ECW holds what many fans correctly assume to be the promotions last show in the building.
15 December 2001: CZW’s Cage of Death III event concludes with an invasion by Todd Gordon and several former ECW wrestlers, though the Sandman turns against the crew and aligns himself with CZW.
13 September 2003: CZW’s John Danzig is hung from the arena ceiling with meathooks apparently embedded in his skin. It sets up the main event of Cage of Death V that encompassed two rings, one cage, a scaffold and a huge pile of thumbtacks.
10 June 2005: One day before WWE’s One Night Stand event, Shane Douglas and Jeremy Borash present Hardcore Homecoming, an ECW reunion show headlined by a rematch of the Sabu-Shane Douglas-Terry Funk bout that put ECW on the map in 1994.
14 January 2006: ROH wrestlers invade a CZW show at the Arena, hours before CZW’s Chris Hero competes in the main event of an ROH show elsewhere in Philadelphia. The incident sets off a six-month feud between the promotions.
9 June 2006: A TNA house show along with the UWF group ends with the ring completely filled with chairs thrown by the crowd at the request of Team 3D.
