Stan Hochman: Snider-Wolman feud outliving Spectrum
IN PHILADELPHIA, Ed Snider tells people that the Spectrum is his "baby" and that he will be heartsick when they implode it before the end of the year.
In Potomac, Md., Jerry Wolman gnashes his teeth and snarls, "Ed Snider didn't put a dime into the Spectrum."
Whose fingerprints are on the blueprints? Whose DNA is in the design? Can we put the Spectrum on the Maury Povich show and have him yelp at the doomed 41-year-old arena, "Who's your daddy?"
Wolman says he borrowed the money to build the Spectrum, picked the architects, hired the construction company that brought the project in ahead of schedule and under budget. That's him, alongside the mayor, James Tate, at the groundbreaking, wielding hockey sticks instead of shovels, because the project was inspired by Snider's quest for a National Hockey League franchise.
Wolman is 81, still porcupine-sharp. Agile, mobile, at times hostile. Could get to South Philly in less than 3 hours. He has not been invited to any of the "closing" events. Will he be invited to the implosion?
"Yeah," Snider grumbles, "if he's inside the building!"
Wolman is working on a book and a movie script about his life and turbulent times. He says it makes him sick to hear Snider talk about the building as his "baby." He says, bitterly, "I took him out of the gutter and then he [bleeped] me."
A man could get a hernia lugging around a grudge for 42 years. Memories do get murky. Isn't time supposed to heal all wounds? Or at least put an armor-thick scab on them?
A little history is relevant right here. Wolman bought the Eagles in 1963. Paid $5.5 million for the team. Uh huh, the same franchise that is now valued at more than a billion dollars. Named Snider as Eagles vice president and treasurer.
"Ed's father was a friend of mine," Wolman says. "Ed's record company folded and Ed's father asked me to talk to him, because he felt he was depressed. Ed was disheveled, discouraged. I told him I was buying the Eagles and that I would have a spot for him. He brightened up."
Snider was a partner in a record company. Wolman says it failed, Snider says it was going national and he walked away.
They were in their 30s, full of pith and vinegar. Wolman caught passes in training camp, Snider kick-started NFL Properties. In 1966, Snider got wind of imminent NHL expansion. He knew a new hockey team would need a new place to play, so he encouraged Wolman to build the Spectrum.
"It was 16 months from when I first had the idea," Snider says, "until it was completed. Wolman went to the banks for the money. He was in construction, so that made sense. At that time, it wouldn't have worked for me to try to borrow the money.
"I say I couldn't have built it without Wolman. I was running the Eagles at the time. I was working with the Phillies on plans for a new [Veterans] stadium."
Running the Eagles at the time? Isn't that the time when coach Joe Kuharich got an outrageous 15-year contract? "That," Snider grumps, "was idiotic. He was a lousy coach. Wolman did it on a whim, he told nobody about it before he did it."
"I told Jerry not to name Kuharich general manager, too," recalls Joe King, the team's business manager at the time. "But he did. Snider and Kuharich never got along."
Does King care to weigh in on who built the Spectrum? "I don't know who built the Spectrum," King said with a sigh, "but Jerry paid for it."
Wolman was worth $36 million at age 36. He was a prankster. He was soft-spoken, congenial. Snider was loud, combative.
Wolman had made his fortune in construction in the Washington area after failing as a fruit store owner in Wilkes-Barre. Selling persimmons, building apartment houses, neither really prepared him for owning a NFL team.
"I was young," he says now. "I made mistakes. I would have gotten better."









