Heavy Traffic Provides Tense Moments at Anaheim Arena

Somehow, it seems, things went off without a hitch. Almost.

At 7:45 p.m., 15 minutes after Disney’s extravaganza on ice began but 25 minutes before faceoff at the Mighty Ducks home opener, throngs of fans bolted across the Anaheim Arena parking lot, griping about traffic snarls and scarce parking. But by 8:15 p.m., the lot was quiet, with everyone who had a ticket apparently safely inside.

“It was probably the best entertainment package I’ve seen in sports,” bragged Tim Ryan, assistant general manager of the arena, as the first goal was scored against the home team. “The traffic cleared, everybody was seated, it was absolutely spectacular. Unbelievable.”

City officials and arena personnel expended scores of hours and used state-of-the-art technology to avoid problems that seem almost inevitable when more than 17,174 screaming, shouting hockey fans gather in one place.

All told, 250 people--police officers, traffic directors, concessions sellers, security guards, ushers and miscellaneous helpers--were on duty to prevent catastrophe. But with only a quarter as many spaces in the lot as seats in the stadium, nothing could keep parking from becoming a problem.

At 6:45 p.m., the lot was packed except for 20 spots roped off for VIPs. Parking personnel had to make a special space for Walt Bumpass, a 58-year-old salesman from Orange, because all the handicapped spots were taken, too.

As the pregame extravaganza began at 7:30 p.m., traffic was stopped at Douglass Road and Katella Avenue, and fans were funneled to nearby Anaheim Stadium, where shuttle buses waited.

“This is an incredibly stupid system,” said Larry Johnson, 36, of Mission Viejo, as he jogged across the arena parking lot. “There is just not enough parking for all these people.”

Added Steve Sylvestri, 24, of Fullerton, jogging alongside: “Traffic here is pathetic.”

Don’t tell it to Anaheim police officers and traffic specialists.

“It looks like we’re going to get everybody in before the game starts,” engineer Yochan Baba said before faceoff, as Officer Paul Munoz, his partner, pronounced the evening a success.

Beginning at 5 p.m., Lt. Ray Welch, chief traffic cop, led a team of seven officers and 23 traffic controllers posted at 25 street spots surrounding the arena, a crew as large as the one on duty for the 1988 All-Star Game.

On the fifth floor of Anaheim City Hall, eight closed-circuit televisions scanned various intersections, and city officials controlled traffic signals with a flip of a switch. A massive electronic map of the city was center stage, flashing green where things were smooth and red to signify any backup.

“It’s time to make some changes,” Baba said when he detected some congestion at Katella and Douglass shortly after 5 p.m. Punching some numbers, Baba gave drivers making a left from Katella into the arena a few extra seconds. As the clock ticked, Baba kept barking commands, steadily increasing the left-turn time off Katella.

An hour later, Baba began relinquishing control to officers on the scene at a few intersections, explaining that it’s more efficient that way in a crunch. The tension in the control center rose as faceoff neared.

“Between now and 7:30 p.m. is our critical time,” Munoz said at 6:45 p.m. in the control room. “This is when we earn our money.”

At 7 p.m., motorists began ignoring officers’ commands, making U-turns rather than waiting in line. But by 7:45 p.m., the monitors showed just a few late stragglers.

Meanwhile, inside the arena, Anaheim Sgt. Jim Moore was stationed with his crew of police officers and a slew of private security guards, on the lookout for drunks, fights, or people who had lost their way.

With Moore watching for crime, Ryan had everything else to worry about. Like making sure no one without a ticket got in. And that there was enough toilet paper: 700 rolls to be exact, twice as much as experts expected would be used in the arena’s 22 restrooms.

The toilet paper flowed smoothly, but there was a traffic jam at the souvenir shop. Despite the Red Wings’ early trouncing of the Ducks, about 100 people packed a shop with room for 20.

“My daughter told me not to come home if I don’t have a T-shirt,” said Lorraine Williams of Mission Viejo as she waited in line.

Ryan, a 17-year veteran of the arena-management business, said the only other event he’d ever worked on that had as much preparation was the 1984 Olympic Games in Los Angeles. So he wasn’t too worried Friday afternoon.

“It’s not an all-or-nothing situation, there are a lot of backup systems in this building that prevent us from having a major catastrophe, which adds a certain comfort level,” Ryan said as he added last-minute touches. “This is as well-planned as anything I’ve been associated with in my career. I can assure that if something does go wrong, it is not directly related to a lack of preparation.”

Times staff writers Jennifer Brundin and Rene Lynch and correspondent Bob Elston contributed to this report.