Local View: Arenas show need for Duluth to 'take care of what we have'

Recently, while visiting family in Duluth, I had the pleasure of watching my 10-year-old granddaughter Lulu play in a DAHA hockey tournament. It was a moment of pure joy, watching her glide across the ice with determination, her teammates cheering her on, and the crowd buzzing with energy.

Her first game was at Fryberger Arena, a beloved landmark nestled in the Woodland neighborhood. Among hockey families, it’s affectionately called “Freezeberger” — and after just one visit, I understood why.

The game itself was thrilling. The Duluth Icebreakers took on Cottage Grove, and Lulu, with the confidence only a 10-year-old can muster, scored a hat trick. But as I stood in the cold, cheering her on, I couldn’t help but notice the state of the facility. Fryberger has seen better days. The ice was fine, but the arena’s charm was overshadowed by its neglect.

After the second period, I ventured upstairs to warm up, only to find the viewing windows fogged and smudged, making it nearly impossible to follow the game. While the temperature was more comfortable, the space was cluttered, and the peeling paint and outdated fixtures served as a harsh reminder of how long it’s been since the place received any real attention.

As I stood there, I overheard some parents talking about the cost of these tournaments. Between registration fees, travel, lodging, and feeding a team of hungry young hockey players, the expenses add up quickly. They felt shortchanged, playing in an arena that clearly hadn’t seen a proper update in years. These weren’t complaints from people who don’t appreciate tradition; they were the voices of parents who want their children to have the best experience possible — and who felt Duluth was letting them down.

Contrast that with my next stop: Wessman Arena in Superior. We crossed the bridge with high spirits after Lulu’s big game, eager to see how her team would fare next. As we pulled into the lot, I was struck by how neat and well-maintained everything looked. The sidewalks were cleared, the entrance was clean and inviting, and there was a sense of pride in the way the facility was presented.

Wessman isn’t a new arena by any means, but its age didn’t show in the same way Fryberger’s did. Inside, the temperature was comfortable for spectators, the seating areas were clean, and the ice sparkled under the lights. It was clear that this facility, though modest, had been cared for and respected by its owners at the University of Wisconsin-Superior.

Now, Duluthians, let me be clear: This isn’t an attack on Fryberger or the city itself. I love Duluth. It’s a city steeped in history, filled with charm, and a place where many of my fondest memories were made. But if Duluth is going to proudly call itself a tourist town, it needs to address the state of its public spaces — especially its sports facilities.

Hockey is more than a pastime here; it’s a way of life. Fryberger and other rinks like it are where dreams are born, where friendships are forged, and where families gather on cold winter mornings. These places matter, not just to locals but to the many families who travel here, spending their hard-earned money to experience the spirit of Duluth.

I’m not advocating for Fryberger’s demolition. Quite the opposite. I believe she deserves to be restored, not replaced. This isn’t about making things flashy or modern. It’s about honoring the legacy of these cherished venues while ensuring they remain functional and inviting for generations to come.

I know Duluth faces budget challenges; most cities do. But neglecting facilities like Fryberger will only compound those problems. People will stop coming if their experience doesn’t meet their expectations. Word travels fast in the hockey community, and no city can afford to rest on its reputation alone.

So, here’s my plea: Let’s take care of what we have. Let’s show the world that Duluth values its visitors, its traditions, and its future. Fryberger and every other facility like it deserve attention, not just because of what they mean to us today but because of what they could mean to those who come after us.

Duluth has the potential to be a beacon for hockey families everywhere, a place where the love of the game is matched by the pride we take in our city. Let’s make sure that every family who visits leaves with fond memories — and a reason to return. Because in the end, it’s not just about the game; it’s about the experience, the community, and the heart of Duluth.

John Grandson of Hill City, South Dakota, grew up in Lakewood Township and writes short stories in his retirement. He wrote this exclusively for the News Tribune.