It was a perfect setting inside Pauley Pavilion, strands of blue and gold balloons stretching toward the ceiling, the school band striking up a tune.
As UCLA administrators announced last week that their aging arena would finally get a makeover, there was no hint of discord or controversy.
No one mentioned that a longtime university supporter had opposed the chosen design -- and had been ousted as head of a volunteer fundraising committee.
No one talked about the two prominent architects who had stepped forward in his wake to express their concerns.
The $185-million renovation suffers from "potential fatal flaws," according to Michael Hallmark, one of the designers behind Staples Center, who documented his opinion in an analysis sent to the University of California regents.
This criticism does not entirely surprise university administrators. Given Pauley Pavilion's status as a college basketball landmark, they expected reactions good and bad.
And so they are undeterred, confident they have chosen the best-possible option given limitations of cost and space.
"We want to get going on this as soon as possible," said Steven A. Olsen, the vice chancellor of finance, budget and capital programs. "Certainly there are going to be strong emotions about a project like this no matter which direction it takes."
--
Starts and stops
Everyone agrees that, after more than four decades, Pauley Pavilion needs an overhaul.
Open spaces behind each basket leave too many fans disconnected from the action. Foot traffic clogs the antiquated system of vertical and cross aisles, with long lines forming at too few restrooms and concession stands.
Moreover, there is a sentiment that with USC opening the Galen Center in 2006, the storied Bruins program shouldn't have to play second fiddle in its own city.
UCLA could have afforded a new building -- the Galen Center cost $147 million -- but Pauley Pavilion's narrow footprint does not lend itself to modern design and administrators say they wanted to preserve a sense of tradition.
So they focused on renovation and in 2006 established a volunteer committee to help with fundraising and other aspects of the project. Its members, including sports industry executive Casey Wasserman, knew what they were up against.
Their starting point amounts to a 44-year-old concrete bunker sunk in the ground, too costly to remove, oddly configured to accom- modate everything from basketball to graduation ceremonies.
