Still In A Grand Funk: How The Boys From Flint Exploded, Imploded & Still Haven't Patched Things Up

IT'S A SUNNY spring morning in the Motor City but the wind whipping across the Detroit River makes it feel a lot more like winter. Not that the huge mass of people shuffling and milling about in the arena parking lot care; they're stoked on adrenaline and anticipation. When a bored-looking ticket-seller in the Cobo box-office booth flips the sign from "Closed" to "Open" at exactly 9 a.m., the surge of bodies raises temperatures even higher.