DC is going through a period of incredible stress.  The political transition affects us here more than any other city in the country.  People leaving the area and new people arriving every four years.  This has always been so in Washington; this year, even more so.

We, the permanent DC residents will again be adopting a whole new population.

I am probably more sensitive to this constant change in our community because of the business we were in as sports team owners.  In other cities, fans are often lifelong residents.  Here, whole sections of our community move out and in every four years.  Our challenge was always to keep our loyal fans and attract new ones.

Years ago, one of our players, Bob Ferry, told me that we are the only city where half the fans are rooting for the opposite team.

This will always be so; I accept that, but as DC has grown in population we now have a much larger dedicated fan base.

But that’s what makes sports great.  Sports has a way of uniting us, giving us something to rally around that has nothing to do with whether you are a Democrat or Republican, a man or a woman, etc.  Sports can be a welcome distraction to the “chaos” that sometimes grips our city when we are going through political change.

So, for those of us, who are part of the Washington, DC “permanent” community, our current teams are coming through just when we need them.

Sparks are flying.

Wall!  Ovechkin!

How fortunate we are to have two of the GREAT players in sports today anchoring our local teams!  And both teams are playing remarkably well, providing

The spirit affects everyone visiting the Verizon Center – the ushers in the  arena, the hot dog vendor, the parking lot attendants and, of course, the fans.  Sharing these moments when we all talk about the great plays and the winning results of the games brings us all together.

As Jackie Gleason in “The Honeymooners” said, “How sweet it is!”  Enjoy!

Every time we approach a Presidential Inauguration, I am reminded of some memorable moments for us during our Capital Centre days.  One day in particular:  In 1985, the weather was dangerously cold, so the decision was made to move Ronald Reagan’s Inaugural Parade indoors to the Capital Centre. We barely had a day to plan it!   I thought you might enjoy the video of that event below.  Also, I’ve included a link to a star-studded Inaugural Gala at Capital Centre in 1993 for President Clinton.   Our staff at Capital Centre worked day and night to make sure these were successful events. Enjoy!

Reagan Inaugural Parade 1985

 

Clinton Inaugural Gala – Capital Centre 1993

 

 

Topsy-Turvy:   A state of utter confusion, disarray, disorder, chaos.

This expression keeps going around and around in my head; – non-stop! Topsy-turvy, topsy-turvy, topsy-turvy etc, etc, etc,——ad infinitum!

I haven’t written a blog in a very long time. I have been wanting to but just couldn’t.

Not that I didn’t have a lot to say, in fact, I had too much to say. That was my problem. I just couldn’t’ put it all down – the paper would have caught fire!

I needed to wait until I could write with some measure of control of my feelings.

Is “topsy-turvy” a measure of control? At least I have an expression of where I am now; what I feel now — topsy-turvy!!!!!

So how does one manage in the world that feels like this? Go about one’s life, work, family, feeling disconnected, unsteady, unsettled?

I find myself reaching far back to times in my life of deep personal tragedy; times when everything seemed to be going wrong and ask myself , what did I do then?

I remember reaching deep down; inside, seeking and searching for a warm, safe place; and finding it, feeling so grateful that it was there waiting for me.

There it was when I needed it; protected, giving me time to come to terms with a new reality.

I feel that is where we are now – in the midst of a country-wide, world-wide period of major transition and I want to be ready to adapt, accommodate.

Topsy-turvy is temporary; the challenge is how to return to balance.

Happy New Year, everybody!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is the first time in my life that I have admitted that I am not perfect.

I have been through many Rosh Hoshonahs, Jewish New Years, and I have reflected and searched my soul,  but this is the first time I have been able to actually see why I am not perfect.

It all came about a few short weeks ago when, again for the first time, I realized how I set up expectations; my own high and sometimes unrealistic expectations.

I always knew that I had high expectations of myself — which is good. That means I will work hard to fulfill them.

But, what I realize now is, they are mine. That means that no one else can either anticipate or fulfill them.  And if my expectations of myself aren’t met, I am disappointed and I have set myself up for that and no one else.

Whew!

What a relief for me to know that I don’t have to do this. Knowing this alone reduces my anxiety, lessens my disappointment.

Why did it take me so long to learn this?    Unrealistic expectations that I had to be perfect.

Wishing everyone a very good year!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The following is an excerpt from my book, “Irene and Abe: An Unexpected Life.”

As lifelong, ardent Democrats, we were delighted when
Bill Clinton was elected president and the party returned
to power.
We were delighted on a personal level too, because, by that
time, we knew the Clintons. I had been part of the group who
had interviewed him (and then later backed him) when Pamela
Harriman’s “Democrats for the 80s” was deciding which candidate
to support. Abe and I had contributed to his campaign and attended
many of his speeches.

“How does it feel to be here?” I asked President Clinton one
night when he had only been in office a couple of months and was
giving us a tour around the White House.
“I still can’t believe it,” he said.
An ardent basketball fan, Bill Clinton came to a lot of games
with us after he became president. Hillary came with him to
a Chicago game, but he was the more constant fan. He credited
his extensive knowledge of basketball to insomnia. He slept little,
he explained, and watched just about all the games he could find
on television.

Since Abe had always shunned the fancy “sky suites” we’d built
at Capital Centre (which was renamed USAir Arena in 1993) because
they were too far away from the action, we watched the games in
the stands along with everyone else. No one enjoyed mixing with
the other spectators more than Bill Clinton. This was the biggest
“people person” I’d ever met. Sitting in the fourth row with us, he
engaged anyone and everyone near him in conversation, teasing
and joking and happily posing for pictures, and even volunteering
to take pictures for those who asked him. He was a lot of fun.
One night when he came to the game, the Secret Service brought
in a huge cardboard box, which they put on the floor in front of his
seat. It was filled with soft drinks and snacks, and the next thing
we knew, there was the President of the United States offering its
contents to all the people sitting around him. Did he forget that he
was the President of the United States? He was a natural politician.

Soon after they moved into the White House, we were invited
to an informal dinner party that happened to be on my birthday.
It was in a lower-level dining room with about five tables of eight
people. I was seated at Bill’s table. Toward the end of the meal, a
birthday cake was brought in to my surprise, and everyone sang
“Happy Birthday, Irene!” I was stunned and flattered. Was I really
that important?

–From “Irene and Abe: An Unexpected Life,” available from Amazon at this link.

The following is an excerpt from my book, “Irene and Abe: An Unexpected Life.”

 

Sometimes it was hard to reconcile my daytime and my
evening activities. During the day, I quietly sat in my chair facing
each patient, one on one, as a non threatening therapist, using the
language of the medical and psychiatric worlds.
My night was the total opposite from the minute I stepped
into the noisy, throbbing, lights-flashing building that was Capital
Centre. I usually sat next to Abe watching our teams win and
lose, and then deal occasionally with the celebrities who came to
perform. Ordinarily, we did not meet and greet them, but some—
like Frank Sinatra—demanded more attention than the President.
The first time Frank Sinatra came to perform in our building, he
insisted that Abe and I meet him officially before the concert and
be there when his limousine pulled up to the entrance to welcome
him amidst press fanfare, with photographer flash bulbs going off.
The problem was that the arena was circular and there were four
different, equal entrances. Each time we approached a designated
entrance his car was at another one. The result became a circus.
We kept going round and round on the inside of the building as
his limo went round and round on the outside. We wondered
what was causing the problem, and discovered that every time he
approached an entrance and there weren’t enough reporters, he
would tell the driver to go to the next one.

Finally, Abe and I had had it.

We were about to give up when Sinatra finally found an
entrance he liked and got out of the car.

We were not too warm and kissy at that point.

 

–From “Irene and Abe: An Unexpected Life,” available from Amazon at this link.

Of course, it felt good to complete my book and receive some nice reviews on Amazon and several other places, but running into some of the readers in person and discussing the book has also given me some interesting insight.  Whenever I have met someone, often friends (men and women, who have completed the book), I ask what as a man, or as a woman, they found especially interesting.

I have been very surprised at the answers.

Now, maybe because I am a woman, I begin with my own biases, still I really didn’t expect the answers I got.

So, here we are.  The men — almost every single one — were deeply moved, some to the point of tears, at the story of my children.  And I thought they would talk about the Michael Jordan incident!

You guys, I learned, are softies.  And I loved it; Abe was…and so was my Dad.

The women, on the other hand, all asked me how I was able to compromise myself to my husband’s work.

What?

They missed the point of the book; Abe and I were equal partners!  We shared!  I never felt that I was sacrificing anything.  Sometimes I felt that I went to a lot of games but I never resented being there – if I felt that way, I wouldn’t have gone.

But, these responses are quite interesting and enlightening –  another reason I’m glad I wrote the book!

Thanks, Robert and Sigrid!

Another excerpt from my book, “Irene and Abe, An Unexpected Life.”

This passage opens the book and includes a moment with Abe that I’ll never forget:  the look on his face when he met legendary Knicks President and Hall of Famer Ned Irish.  I hope you enjoy this brief look into the book.  Of course, the book is on sale and available on Amazon at this link.

 

From “Irene and Abe:  An Unexpected Life”

As luck would have it, our first away game as owners of the
Baltimore Bullets took place in St. Louis, my hometown. We
invited my whole family, lots of cousins of all ages, and we
all cheered so loudly that one woman sitting in front of us finally
turned around and said, “Why are you yelling like that for the
Bullets? You’d think you owned the team!” Abe loved to tell that
story along with several other stories from that weekend because
the game coincided with the first meeting we attended, also in St.
Louis, of owners of National Basketball Association league teams.

My cousins still talk about it. “Remember the time Irene brought
Boston Celtics owner Red Auerbach to our house for lunch?”
There were Abe and I—the new kids on the block—mixing with
basketball legends we had up to that time only read about. While
Red Auerbach was explaining to me how his favorite trick was to
turn up the heat in the visiting team’s locker room in Boston to
tire the guys out before the game started, Abe was across the room
chatting strategy with Knicks founder and basketball icon Ned
Irish (who had just been inducted into the Basketball Hall of Fame)
and giving me a look that said I can’t believe I’m talking to Ned Irish!

It was a very heady experience for us, suddenly finding ourselves
on the inside, listening to the behind-the-scenes talk about coaches
and players and strategy and trades.
“Irene, have you met Wilt Chamberlain?” someone asked me.
As I turned to shake Chamberlain’s hand, I found my eyes at the
exact same level as the over-seven-foot-tall player’s belly button.
He seemed to me to be a living statue. I had never seen a live person
that big. He just didn’t seem real. And there I was talking to him.

It was at that point that I found myself asking: How in the world
did I ever (ever!) end up in the world of professional basketball?

I thought it might be fun to include some excerpts from my book here from time to time.  This is one of my favorite stories, which details how we lobbied for and won an expansion franchise in the National Hockey League.  That team would become the Washington Capitals.  I hope you enjoy the story and if you are interested in more stories like it, you can purchase “Irene and Abe: An Unexpected Life” via Amazon at this link.

Enjoy!

From “Irene and Abe: An Unexpected Life”

That year, 1972, was big. The next thing I knew, Abe and I were

in Montreal at the annual meeting of the National Hockey League in

hopes of winning a franchise. Abe had been chairman of the NBA’s

expansion committee two years earlier and he knew a lot about

franchises. Still, looking over the scene in Montreal, we decided we

needed some reinforcements. Our immediate adviser was always

our friend and lawyer, David Osnos, who traveled with us. But,

within 24 hours, the intensity of the competition was so great that

we all decided we needed another brain.

I suggested our brilliantly strategic friend, Sandy Greenberg.

Sandy had developed a network of powerful Washingtonians from

the years he worked in the White House in the 1960s, and that

network had grown exponentially since. He also grew up in Buffalo

and happened to know Seymour Knox III, the owner of the Buffalo

Sabres hockey team, which didn’t hurt. Sandy had connections

and a savvy knack for working behind the scenes to make things

happen. We gave him a royal greeting when he walked into our

hotel room later that day.

Two new franchises were being awarded that year, but we

really only had a chance for one. The son of Bill Jennings, the former

chairman of the National Hockey League Board of Governors, was

part of a group that was applying for a franchise in Kansas City.

Because of Bill Jennings’ longstanding relationship and high level

of power within the National Hockey League, the assumption was

that his son’s group would win. That left only one franchise for

many different cities to compete over.

We stayed up all night strategizing. How could we convince the

Board of Governors that Washington could be a valuable asset to

the league? We felt that the building and the team would be a boon

to the nation’s capital, but the hockey people saw Washington as a

southern city with no interest in ice hockey.

We produced a host of telegrams from senators and

representatives to the National Hockey League on our behalf.

“Your action would provide major league hockey and basketball for

this sports-starved community and also insure a beautiful facility in

the National Capital area to celebrate the Nation’s bicentennial” one

telegram signed by 42 members of Congress read.

“We as members of the United States Senate join in urging you to grant

a hockey franchise to the national capital area comprised of Washington,

D.C. and large segments of Maryland and Virginia. One of the nation’s

largest urban areas is anxiously awaiting word of your decision” was

another signed by 15 senators.

When Sandy Greenberg arrived, I was in my nightgown

and robe, still typing letters to anyone who might give us an

endorsement.

Abe personally visited all sixteen voting representatives

from the sixteen NHL teams. Our plan was to sell the NHL

governors on what a plus it would be to have a team in the

nation’s capital, playing in a brand-new arena, which already

had a basketball team. If you only had one team, it would be

extremely difficult to get financing for a new arena. If you had

both, your chances went up significantly. We needed two teams.

For the next three days and nights, Abe would go back and

forth from one room to another, visiting as many of the owners

as he could. Then, exhausted, he would report back to us for our

next suggestions. The biggest overall argument against our getting

the team was that Washington at the time was a backwater city

when it came to hockey—a southern town where no one played

hockey and therefore no one would be interested in watching

professionals play the sport. The NHL owners did not want a weak

link. An unpopular franchise in a disinterested city would be bad

for everyone’s revenues.

We countered that Washington was also an international town,

with embassies and embassy staffs from many countries where

hockey was extremely popular. It also had many people working

in government from all parts of the country. Additionally, it would

bring in all kinds of entertainment—boxing matches, tennis matches,

rock concerts, ice shows—all of which had bypassed Washington

because the region still lacked a big enough place to perform. Then

we would push Abe out the door again, and I would go back to

writing letters to solicit additional support from the White House

and diplomats. In that time when Abe visited the sixteen hockey

team owners, none of us slept. We kept listening, discussing, and

pushing Abe back out the door. Our other arguments included that

the Washington metropolitan area was fast growing in population,

it was an area both sports-conscious and sports-starved, and there

was glamour in having a hockey team in the nation’s capital! If they

needed more proof of our qualifications, we were the only owners in

either the NBA or the NHL who were in the construction business.

Surely someone like Abe, who had just four years earlier managed

to build the Irene—a huge apartment complex with 535 units and

two swimming pools, a putting green, a paddleboard court with a

basketball backboard, and a tennis court on the roof—would have

no trouble building an arena.

There were different strategies for each governor. Aside from

one moment when things did not look good and I was terrified Abe

was going to have a heart attack, it was a very exciting three days

and three nights.

In the end, Jack Kent Cooke, who then owned the Los Angeles

Kings hockey team and was a powerful arm twister, supported us

wholeheartedly. We got the franchise. Several days earlier when

we arrived in Montreal, Jimmy the Greek had proclaimed the odds

against our getting a hockey team at 600-1. Nothing delighted

my competitive husband more than beating both those odds and

Jimmy the Greek!

 

Now that the book “Irene & Abe: An Unexpected Life” is completed and in circulation, it has been fun for me to get the feedback; feedback from friends, colleagues, family, and from interviewers.  The feedback from interviewers comes in the form of questions, which tell you what they are interested in.  And I am interested in what they all are interested in.

I wasn’t sure that my life was so interesting until I began putting it together in the form of a book.  As I began recalling various events over the years, and saw the connections, I began thinking: Wow did I do that?  Did we do that?  How did we ever do that?  How did I even do that?”

Most people are asking me that question, “How did you do that?  And, my answer, first, “I don’t know.”  And then, looking inward, reaching in, deeply, “How did I do that?”

Some were deeply personal: losses of my children; other was juggling the day life of a mental health professional; and the night life of a sports team owner.

Then it is interesting to see the questions from men ask vs. women.  Guessing in advance what they would be, I was wrong on one count, revealing my own bias.  I separated the men from the women.  I thought the men would only be interested in the sports and I was 100% wrong.  I am glad to say!

The men were more touched by the personal than the women, even revealing tears at certain points.  And I thought men were so tough!  Wrong!

I should have known: my husband was a real softie!

More on this later but I’m remembering some old TV shows, “What’s My Line?” “To Tell the Truth” and “I’ve got a Secret”.

There is endless curiosity about peoples’ lives.   Mine is just one!