My favorites far and away are our own beloved Mackey Arena and Illinois’ Assembly Hall (forget all about that B.S. State Farm rebranding). They’re the round mounds of rebound from the 60s, and I was around to see both open. Mackey is more intimate and much louder, but I also love the looks inside and out of the Spaceship on the Prairie. The Martians landed in Champaign. George Jetson, meet Chief Illiniwek. Woo-Woo-woo-woo. Woo-Woo-woo-woo.
(Speaking of, did you know the real Illini tribes were actually killed off and made extinct by their fellow “native” Americans, whose alleged descendants whined so long and loud that the U of I’s revered Chief got killed off, too? And who should feel insulted? The Illini spirit, not posers.)
I’ve also been to Crisler, Breslin, Carver-Hawkeye, old St. John’s, the Kitties’ Cathouse turned Litter Box and that cryin’ baby cradle upside-down in helltown. It’s always looked like some old white swayback ready for glue. Fans in the upper levels can’t even see the fans on the opposite side. Collapsing roof in the way. It’s so sickening that it made me exit and barf in my first visit for a 1972 concert. That and half-baked pizza with whiskey. Boilered up before it was a thing.