COLLEGE PARK - You'd think a $108 million arena with enough bells and whistles to make it feel like a mammoth pinball machine would be the main attraction on a campus that long ago made peace with the fact that its beloved old barn had seen better days.
"We left the rats and the cockroaches behind at Cole," University of Maryland athletic director Deborah Yow said last night.
Maryland may have also left behind some innocence, too, although the lively mural adorning the Comcast Center lobby pays tribute to Terrapins history.
There's Lefty Driesell, the 17-year coach who went 348-159 as king of the Turtles. There's Len Elmore and Tom McMillen, the Harvard Law grad and the Rhodes scholar who anchored a powerhouse team in the early '70s. There's Len Bias, whose tragic drug overdose death escaped no basketball fan's attention. There's a picture of Billy Jones, the first African-American in the Atlantic Coast Conference. And how about NBA stars John Lucas, Buck Williams, Steve Francis?
Everything that came before is on display, but there's no mistaking the difference between what was and what is: Old and new; big time and bigger times, now that the Terps have a palace for a home.
Wait until Mike Krzyzewski gets a load of this place. Duke will soon see that Maryland is going to be the real deal for years to come. Comcast will draw recruits, and it's definitely a show-stopper.
"Wow," was the operative word of the evening. No wonder ESPN traipsed its cameras down to College Park for the Terps' exhibition opener against the Harlem Globetrotters, whose string of routs against collegiate opponents is over. The hungry and surprisingly poised young Terps set the pace and won, 97-79.
"Everything was new. We were all like tourists today. I saw a lot of people looking up in the air like we were in New York City," Terps coach Gary Williams said. "But we're through that now. We have to make this place a pit. I'm going to ask them to make the seats smaller and narrow the aisles."
Does the coach think atmosphere was sacrificed for luxury boxes? He'll never say because he knows the score. This is a necessary march toward the future, even if Cole Field House was atmospherically ideal for the Terps.
Last night, awed Maryland basketball fans showed their hearts were in the right place, too. The arena impressed many, but here's what it sounded like when the defending national champions unofficially opened their spanking new basketball arena.
"Wow. Look at that. That is nice."
"It looks better every time I see it."
"See the trophy?"
"Yeah, I saw it."
"There it is. It's the national championship trophy."
"It's nice, isn't it?"
"Awesome. Fantastic."
At least that's how it sounded to the lucky ticket holders who actually left Bethesda or Baltimore three hours before tip-off, which is how much time you need to make sure you circumnavigate the dicey (read: barely existent) parking.
It's worth the long and winding trip, though. As soon as you step through the turnstiles at Comcast Center's main entrance, you run smack into an elegant, tall glass case lit up like something at Tiffany's. That's because the case holds the crystal Sears Trophy awarded to the 2002 Terrapins.
Hardly a soul could pass the trophy without stopping and staring.
The champs' trophy is a fitting first impression at Comcast, complete with graphics that list the defending champs' accomplishments (15-0 at Cole Field House, 32-4 overall) last season. The trophy is also accompanied by photographs of the 2002 Terps' starting five (Juan Dixon, Chris Wilcox, Byron Mouton, Lonny Baxter, Steve Blake) and the 2002 NCAA and ACC Coach of the Year, Williams.
"Wait a minute," an older gentleman told his wife as they stepped out of the elevator with their grandson. "I want to show him the trophy."
It was as important for people to see the hardware (Maryland's first hoops trophy) as it was for them to ogle the pricey new digs of high-profile Terps, whose coach just got a raise that makes Williams (at $1.5 million per) one of the best-paid Division I coaches in the land.
That's why in the face of Maryland's bright, expensive future, it is appropriate to wish good luck to the student-athletes on whose shoulders and jump shots this entire, big-ticket enterprise rests.
Let's just hope no one asks the Terrapins' student-athletes to go out and sell any of the $95,000-a-season luxury suites. We wouldn't want the NCAA police barking at Maryland's door, not when former NCAA champs (like Michigan) are dragging down their banners in unprecedented degrees of embarrassment and disgrace.
This is a slippery slope upon which all big-time programs must walk: Get really big and let your money-makers fund the daylights out of your minor sports, then pray that the temptation to play dirty (in the recruiting battle) doesn't become reality.
So far, there is level-headed pride and pragmatism attached to this bold, new era and arena.
"What I'm most proud of is that this building serves as a student activity center as well as an arena. Nineteen of our 25 varsity sports are housed here. Cole was built [in 1955] at a time when women's sports didn't [exist]," Yow said.
"In 1994, we inherited a debt of $51 million and it's now down to $16.8 million. I'm proud of the success of the men's basketball team. This building could not have been built without student fees and contributions from the state and our boosters."
Indeed, Yow is shepherding in a brave new era at Maryland. But no cautionary note should be struck about big-time athletics being funded by expensive buildings without also acknowledging Comcast Center's wide concourses, food courts and abundance of potties.
In this day of maximizing revenue, these things are as important as winning the recruiting battles and teaching zone defense.