Vincennes Lincoln (Coliseum) (4,838) Built 1926
May 21, 2025
May 21, 2025
As a teacher, the week before school starting is always a stressful one. It doesn't matter how well I try to organize my room in the spring, or how much thinking ahead I do in the summer, there are always a few things I don't think about until the days leading up (or literally the night before while laying in bed) that I have to have or need to get done before students arrive. In olden days, teachers would have to race to the nearest Walmart or Staples to try and grab those last minute items. Last night I thought of something I needed before the first day. I literally rolled over, grabbed my phone, tapped it maybe 5 times, went to sleep, and it was on my doorstep the next afternoon. We live in an absurd age of convenience. It has never been better for forgetful people like me. The consequences of poor planning and just general laziness have never been less severe. And honestly, at surface level, it seems great! Who doesn't like things in life to just be easier? The idea of convenience and the impact it's had on society since the turn of the century has been on my mind this summer. I've had a few recent conversations with people who work in schools that have built new gyms in the last 30 years, or still have access to older gyms in their communities. When discussing why the new gyms were built, or why they never have throwback games at the old places, there's a common theme: It's a pain, it's a hassle, it's too much work. Which to me begs the question, what have we lost in the name of modern convenience?
The difficulties surrounding regularly playing in an old gym seem pretty understandable to me. With permanent seating, there isn't as much court space. Old bleachers usually aren't compliant with modern safety and accessibility standards. Bathroom and locker room facilities aren't up to snuff. Parking is often a nightmare. All of this is exacerbated tenfold when the old gym sits in another part of town away from the current high school. I've heard of similar issues with throwback games, along with things like getting the pep band's gear transported and setting up a modern concession stand. I really do see where athletic directors and other big wigs are coming from when they chose to move away from the old digs. All of it truly seems inconvenient. But at what cost? That's what my mind keeps coming back to. I think of Jasper, where they actually returned to the Cabby O'Neill gymnasium for a few years when I was in high school after the "new" gym was flooded and needed to be rebuilt. I think of Lapel, where their old beautiful barn was abandoned for the most sterile and reprehensible regular regional host site we have. I think of Winchester, where rumors are swirling about potentially abandoning their absolute gem of an old fieldhouse for modern, multipurpose crap. I think of all the character, heritage, and tradition that gets ripped out of a high school basketball environment in the name of ease. Which brings me to the focus of this blog, and two gyms that are forever linked in my mind for a few different reasons.
Vincennes and Versailles sit nearly 3 hours apart from each other on opposite ends of southern Indiana. To people who live in these towns, they probably feel no connection to each other whatsoever. For someone with northern Indiana roots trying to learn as much as I can about the history of Indiana high school basketball, I've had a heck of time keeping them straight in my mind for the last two years. The names of each place starting with the same letter and having French origins certainly doesn't help. They also both have old gyms bathed in history that sit apart from the current high schools. Both are known by unique names that are distinctive from the schools they served. They both feature prominent green (though different shades) color schemes, and both have bowl-style seating that starts low and works its way up. The main difference between the two is that Vincennes' gym is about twice as large and 30 years older. The biggest thing they have in common though is that they both were abandoned for newer gyms attached to the high schools. Both newer places are standard modern facilities. I don't want to judge them too much before I visit them in person, they may be fine places to catch a game. What I can do is mourn what was lost. To do that though, once again, I have to see them in person first. I was finally able to make that happen with at least one of them: Adams Coliseum, home of the Alices.
According to Emerson Houck's Hoosiers All, Vincennes Lincoln settled upon one of the most unique (and least intimidating) mascot names ever recorded in our fine state due to a book entitled Alice of Old Vincennes that was very popular in the early 20th century. While the name may not have stricken fear into the heart of their opponents, the actual players on the court certainly did. You would be hard-pressed to find a more dominant program anywhere in southern Indiana during the single class era than Vincennes Lincoln. 1920, 1941-45. 1949, 1953, 1957, 1961, 1964, 1970, 1976-77, 1993. Ask any Alice basketball fan who has been around for awhile what those years mean, and I bet they can tell you. These aren't years that Vincennes Lincoln was victorious in the local sectional, these are the only years they didn't win. From 1917-1997, they failed to bring home the hardware a mere fifteen times. That is just outlandish. And all of them came on their home floor. From 1926 to 1988, that home floor was right here at the Adams Coliseum. This isn't even mentioning the 20 regional, 4 semistate, and 2 state titles. When writing the history of Hoosier Hysteria, Vincennes Lincoln and the Coliseum probably deserve an entire volume of their own.
Stepping into the Coliseum, I came upon not only a marvel of a gym, but an end of year party for one of the local middle schools. While this meant the floor was covered up to protect it, I really didn't mind. It's good to know the gym is still serving the community in a variety of ways, just like it did in its heyday. This does mean that for the first time ever, I'm including a photo in the blog that is not my own. My guide for the day, Mr. Chad Deckard, was kind enough to supply me with a great shot of the hardwood court that was covered when I visited. The gym design reminds me of a miniature Muncie Central, but calling it that isn't really accurate, because this place is still huge. You can walk into the gym from the ground level in any of the four corners. Standing there puts you just a few feet away from one of the most classy court designs you will see in any gym, current or retired. The whole thing is stained a very light gold color. A simple offset "VL" emblem sits at center court in the dark green shade of the Alices. "Alices" is actually written in that same shade along the baselines. Right inside the sidelines, "Vincennes Lincoln" is written on each side on a diagonal. The opposite diagonal has the state champion, state-runner up, and state finalist years written in beautiful cursive script. It's all perfect. The bottom level also features about 7 rows of retractable wooden bleachers along the sidelines. The baseline walls sit about 15 feet behind the out of bounds lines and are about six feet high. The seating above them is where this place really shines.
Surrounding three sides of the upper level are four rows of gorgeous wooden theater seats. I don't know if they were reserved for special season ticket holders back in the day or what, but they look like only royalty should be allowed to sit in them. They're maybe the finest seats in the entire state. Above them are 8 more rows of permanent wooden bleachers, all painted that dark shade of Alice green. The only exception is in the upper corners where they extend up a couple more rows. The upper level is accessed by small sets of stairs right by the entrances in each corner. Old windows that look like they were painted over at some point line the upper walls all the way around the gym. A modern but original scoreboard hangs in the rafters. Gigantic pictures of some of the best teams of yesteryear hang on the railings at the bottom of the upper level along each baseline. A couple old practice hoops hang in similar spots around the gym. Some of the areas right outside the gym actually captured my attention as well.
Each corner entrance to the gym has its own little foyer area. You can still see the original ticket booths where I'm sure people stood in long lines well before the start of each game to ensure they had a seat for the best show in town. A door in one of these foyers leads to a room that is filled from top to bottom with Vincennes Lincoln basketball history. You can find old team photos, trophies, an old rim and net from one of the old goals in the gym, photos of the gym being built, and even a neat map of the area with markers identifying all the towns with schools that participated in the old Vincennes sectional. I think my favorite item though is an old green cap that belonged to one of the state championship coaches. I could've spent forever perusing it all. In one of the foyers there is a monument of sorts that absolutely fascinated me. It's called the Brick Panel, and it's a little homage to different towns and people across the state who donated to the construction of the gym. There are towns all across Indiana represented. It just goes to show how special and innovative this place was at the time. People from all over the state were willing to help pay for a gym that wasn't even a part of their community. Just another pure example of Hoosier Hysteria at its core. I also got to check out the locker rooms which don't seem to have changed much over the years.
It was going to be hard for the Coliseum to meet the expectations I had for it going in. This place has been on the top of my bucket list for a long time. I think it exceeded those expectations in every way, which honestly doesn't always happen. I have walked out of gyms feeling a little deflated plenty of times. I was buzzing when I got back in my van and started the two and a half hour drive home. The gym makes it so easy to imagine what it must have been like to watch old sectional games there when fervor for Alice basketball was at its peak. I can only imagine what it must have been like for the small county schools to walk into that lion's den knowing they were going to play a team (and crowd) that just never lost there. It may have been the best home court advantage anywhere. I also can't believe all of that was just taken away at some point. I genuinely understand why school administrators make the tough (and often unpopular) decisions to move towards more modern facilities. I'm not even saying I'm right in my own maybe old-fashioned opinions. I still can't help but think of what I tell my students all the time though, "Do the hard thing." Convienence is nice, but I'm not sure how valuable it is in the long run. I do know how valuable these gyms are to the people in the communities who identify with them. Even if it's just for one night a year, do the hard thing. Be willing to go beyond the easy path, and create some meaningful memories for the people who still claim these gyms as their homes.
