CONSOL Needs to Become Our Home

Until two seasons ago, many of us made the journey to one familiar building for numerous events. Whether it was for a WWE show, Sesame Street Live, one of the many musicians who've played there, every time you entered that building it felt like home. It felt like you belonged. If felt like you would defend its walls with whatever means were necessary. It was a building that saw legends skate up and down its ice sheet. It was where Mario Lemieux and then Sidney Crosby dazzled 17,000 fans. It was where you saw your first circus, your first concert, and most importantly your first hockey game. The Civic Arena, and then Mellon Arena, and its silver-domed roof was as a major part of your life as your life was a major part of it. Our old friend may be a pile of rubble, but we haven't changed. We are still the same people who've watched playoff hockey inside of a building that felt like our second home. 

When you walked through the Igloo's doors, you immediately had a sense of belonging. That familiar smell, and cramped areas, brought you a sense of calm, a sense of welcoming. When you walked through its corridors to your seats, you felt the cold air of the ice on your skin. You soon heard the Cotton Candy man working hard. You knew that the team on the ice would battle for you, and that you would battle right along with them, whether you had a pole or balcony obstructing your view. You knew your voice would be heard, whether you could see the entire sheet or not. The building had character, and it came from you. The players on the ice may have been the hear of Old Lady Mellon, but we, the fans were its soul. 

Our dear old friend has been reduced to rubble, but its memories live on. Something else has lived on as well, and that is Mellon's voice. That thousands of fans that graced its domed roof have moved across the street to the CONSOL Energy Center, along with the team. 

The new digs don't have that enchanting "home" feel to it. They don't have the smells that the Igloo had, and at times it seems as if the crowd has been lost. This new fancy arena has yet to give us that home ice advantage that the Pens have thrived on during this franchise's history, and that must change beginning tomorrow night.

The Pens are in a big time hole, as we all know, and the series has shifted back to Pittsburgh with the Penguins having new life. If this was game five in the Igloo, we'd certainly be part of something like this:

If watching that video doesn't give you chills, then you are following the wrong sport. We've lost ourselves in this new fancy building, and that is not what this time of year is about. 


The Flyers have won seven of the eight games played against the Penguins in this building. The Penguins have to win their second in nine tomorrow night or we will not see this team until September when training camp starts. 


CONSOL has no soul, it has no spirit. It has a bunch of people inside who are still amazed by the House that Mario Built. That's fine during the regular season, but now the distractions of getting Dunkin Donuts or a burger from Burgatory should be the last thing on 18,000+ minds. Checking into the arena on Facebook and Twitter shouldn't matter any more. There is too much at stake. The end of the hockey season is a bounce away. That alone should put fear into every fan's minds.


It's time for CONSOL to get that home ice feeling to it, and the only way it happens is if the fans bring what they brought to the Igloo for decades to our new shiny building. 


The Pens have earned the right to home ice advantage in the first round, and Philly took both games there as if they belonged. Tomorrow night, we need to let them know that they are not welcomed. The utter disdain has to be displayed. When they take the ice for the opening face-off, they should feel anything but comfortable. 


Tomorrow night could be the last time you walk into CONSOL and see an ice sheet for what will be a very, very long summer. We cannot go out knowing that the Flyers felt comfortable in our city, and in our home. That would be a tragedy.