When you walk toward the field through one of the tunnels in the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, the roar of the crowd grows steadily as the small rectangle of color expands in front of you.
You move slowly down one of the claustrophobic concrete tubes until you pop into the stadium itself.
If a lion and a clot of Christians were on the field below, hacking away at each other, it would halfway make sense.
Indeed, this stadium is so much like the ancient one in Rome (yes, I’ve visited it) that the emperor Flavius would feel at home.