Bobservations: Brand-New and Brilliant

In March 2019, the order of the day and month at 2nd Ave North and Thomas Street was demolition. You can't build a brand-new arena if the old one is still in place.
Back then, most Seattleites and media types figured the construction project that is now gleaming, zero-carbon, one-in-the-world Climate Pledge Arena was a renovation of the old place. The building was indeed reworked once in 1995 after its original opening as the Washington State Pavilion for the 1962 World's Fair, then later purchased by the city and renamed the Seattle Coliseum.

But in early December 2018, Oak View Group broke ground on the most ambitious construction challenge this town and any city on earth will ever encounter. Tim Leiweke, Oak View Group CEO, had a dream and wouldn't let it go: Build a brand-new arena beneath a historic roof that was landmarked nationally and locally just years before.
Dozens of architects and engineers were consulted. They all looked Leiweke in the eyes, or sometimes by phone, shaking their heads, saying no, can't be done.
The thinking: There is no possible way to hold up that 44 million-pound roof long enough and safely enough to do what those professionals considered the impossible: Double the size of the arena's original footprint from 400,000 square to some 800,000 square feet, including eight loading docks and a staging area not to be believed by the early rock-group managers and roadies who worked in the bays and drove through the Bressi tunnel last week.

Leiweke is a world-class persuader. Undeterred, he connected with Chris Carver, senior founding principal and senior architect of Populous, which specializes in sports facilities. They talked and talked more. Carver sat down at whatever magical or spiritual place allows a human to take a dream and bring it to life. He worked the possibilities, then called Leiweke.
Carver said four words: "We can do it."
That conversation sprung all of us to Saturday night, when the house Seattle now calls its own, rained down thunderous cheers and screams and clapping and a Washington State ferry horn sound and the "Lithium" goal song and, yes, tears, too, when Vince Dunn scored the first-ever goal with 3.2 seconds remaining in the first period of the Kraken's first-ever home opener.
Wait a minute. On the night the franchise retired the jersey number 32, in honor of the 32,000 depositors who joined Leiweke as world-class persuaders by convincing NHL commissioner Gary Bettman that Seattle was most decidedly a hockey town, the first Kraken goal, the first goal ever, was scored at 3-point-2 seconds? Who's writing this script?
Well, in large part, Tim Leiweke and his brother Tod, who is CEO of the Kraken and a familiar, beloved builder of the Seahawks and Sounders. Of course, Dunn had a lot to do with it, same for coach Dave Hakstol's systems of play and general manager Ron Francis' unflappable commitment to putting the best team on Climate Pledge Arena ice for this season and many ahead.

Bettman joked during Friday's ribbon-cutting festivities outside the Alaska Airlines Atrium that the word "Leiweke" now means "force of nature."
This is true. Any of us fortunate enough to work alongside Tod or Tim believe it and, better yet, feel cared about by these two men with big hearts and generous souls. They both wear their emotions on their proverbial sleeves at times and, oh man, are we, all of us in this city and region and Great Adventure, better for it.
A construction worker talked with Tod Leiweke during an elevator ride late Saturday afternoon, thanking him for not only the work but to build future memories for his family, which spans four living generations. The chat started when the worker with tools hanging on his belt overheard a discussion about the Kraken's game ahead and remarked, "this team is gonna get it done."
Leiweke looked the man in the eyes: "I like your optimism, sir."
Look who's talking. About an hour later, the Kraken CEO was standing on a piece of carpet on the arena's ice directly in front of the player benches.

"We did it!" he exclaimed, following a video spotlighting the 5,000 women and men workers and leaders and visionaries and investors and believers - Kraken primary owner David Bonderman topping the list-and those 32,000 ticket-plan depositors.
Next, Leiweke informed the loud and proud crowd that the number 32 jersey was retired this night to honor the fans. The spotlight redirected to the 32 jersey banner unfurled and illuminated in the rafters above the northern-end blueline. A thunderous ovation from fans cheering for themselves, but also showering decibel love on a leader who truly deserves it.
That north end is a one of the jaw-dropping charms of this sparkling-new arena in which the Kraken ice surface and Storm basketball court ("the NBA is coming, this is the first step," Tim Leiweke said at Friday's ribbon-cutting) is 15 feet lower than the previous level.
Above the ice and seating bowl, there are north-end windows to show part of the also landmarked curtain wall, long with a view to the Space Needle, another standing pillar from the '62 World's Fair.
None other than head coach Dave Hakstol talked to the media about the thrill of seeing "open light" during the team's first-ever morning skate on Saturday.

Ken Johnsen, the Oak View Group and Kraken construction executive, conducted hundreds-actually, probably thousands-of tours during the last three years. One of his favorite moves was to take people to an entryway at the upper level on the south end. It wowed visitors every time.
The view is the rink below and those open-light windows, plus, turn around to see one of the original arena's four major buttresses is now partially and majestically now inside among the fans.
On Friday afternoon, Tim Leiweke drew applause when he mentioned the $1 billion-plus cost of Climate Pledge Arena was entirely privately funded.
"We're proud of that," said Leiweke. "We're broke, but we're proud."
Local dignitaries, other guests and onlookers laughed. But on a seriously evident note, the city and region are richer for this brand-new arena that Gov. Jay Inslee called "a temple to [energy conservation] and a monument to optimism."

Both of the Leiwekes have made it clear at every turn this is all unfolding at Climate Pledge Arena because of you, the arena and team staff, those 5,000 women and men who worked through a pandemic to place a huge cross-section of us inside the new front doors on Thomas Street this past week to hear Foo Fighters' Dave Grohl say, "Just so you guys know ... obviously Seattle holds a very special place in my heart."
Grohl, of course, was the drummer for this city's legendary rock band, Nirvana, and that goal song we hope to hear often in the next three games of the opening homestand for the Kraken.
"For the earnest rock star goofball, who's not really one to get mushy on stage, it was the equivalent of a three-beer 'I love you, man' from an old friend," wrote Seattle Times music writer Michael Rietmulder.
Friday night, Coldplay put on a dazzling show, exhibiting a wondrous range of how Climate Pledge Arena's stages and ice can be transformed on event nights. Coldplay's lead singer, Chris Martin, took a quiet moment between songs to thank the crowd and noted the globally renown band first played in Seattle in 2000 at The Showbox downtown.
Right after the elevator ride with the construction worker Saturday, Tod Leiweke was personally greeting fans arriving two hours before the game. He thanked dozens of people and they thanked him right back.

"It was the best part of my weekend," said Leiweke on Monday morning. "The one thing that has held true through this whole journey is the fans ... we are out to create moments and memories our fans will never forget."
The magic under this roof continues Tuesday night when the Montreal Canadiens visit Seattle to play a professional hockey game for the first time in 97 years, back when the Metropolitans were Stanley Cup winners and oft-annual contenders.
The moment emerges after seven months of demolition, 600,000 cubic yards of excavated dirt hauled away by 40,000 trucks, erecting tonnage of temporary steel equivalent to what goes into an NFL stadium to hold up that roof (and still be earthquake-proof), then by mid-2020 building this place gloriously upward and onward with the Canadiens coming to town.