Day 3: In the City of Chicago
N.B. Yes, of course I've been watching the ALDS. I'll be posting some thoughts on the Red Sox after the series is over. But for now, allow me to take up my narrative of the great baseball trip of summer 2004, Operation: Roaddogs. Anyone interested in following this epic journey from the beginning can follow the links below.
What Has Gone Before
Day 1: Trust Jesus... Baseball Jesus
Day 1: Black Hole Sun
Day 1: Alice's Restaurant
Day 2: All Skate
Day 2: Hungry Like The Wolf
Day 3: The Quest For Cheese
Now, back to our story. Oddly enough, when I left off writing, the Bunny and I were speeding from Milly-wah-kay to Chicago - and a trip to U.S. Cellular Field, home of the Chicago White Sox....
The Bunny and I were reluctant to leave Milly-wah-kay in the rear view mirror. The City of Cheese had been very very good to us, and there the Baseball Jesus had revealed his full and terrible power. In short, apart from the inexplicable lack of a Laverne & Shirley museum, Milly-wah-kay was grand. But there was a schedule to keep, so we pointed Adelaide south towards Chicago.
Our immediate destination was the Logan Square neighborhood, where my friend Bob and his lovely wife Natalie lived and where we would stay for the next two nights. This, I should add, was an act of exceptional kindness on Bob and Nat's part. Here they were, smack dab in the middle of the work week, allowing the two of us to descend on their hearth and home for two days and nights. Further proof that I've been entirely fortunate in the friends I have. ( In any event, the Bunny and I were quiet as church mice while within the precincts of Chez Bob. I think.)
After fighting through traffic we reached Chez Bob just as our hosts were returning from work. Adelaide was stashed away in Bob's garage, and then the four of us hopped into Nat's car and headed for Cellular Field, or as I kept referring to it in my anachronistic fashion, New Comiskey.
Now - the papers, airwaves and internet this past week have been full of stories of the long-lasting woes of the Chicago White Sox. The franchise hasn't captured a World Serious in 88 years. The White Sox haven't won any postseason series since 1917. They are- or were consideringthe current status of the 2005 ALDS they just won the ALDS- a hardluck ballclub, and that hard luck extends to the park itself.
Once upon a time the White Sox played ball in a hidden gem known as Comiskey Park. Built in 1910, by the 1970s Comiskey was the oldest functioning ballpark in Major League Baseball, with a rich and unique history. A history that meant little to owner Jerry Reinsdorf, who by threatening to move the team to Tampa Bay* bullied the city into contributing funds for a new ballpark. In 1990 Comiskey Park was demolished and paved over and in April of 1991 New Comiskey** opened across the street. I can vaguely remember a medium-sized fuss made over New Comiskey being the first new ballpark constructed in some time, and over how modern it was.
Unfortunately for all concerned, the following April Camden Yards opened and its retro design revealed New Comiskey for what it was: your basic cookie-cutter stadium, an ugly bowl with all the aesthetic appeal of something Albert Speer might have had in mind for Berlin circa 1951. While my sample size may not be conclusive, I have to say that during my time in Chicago I didn't meet a single White Sox fan with any great affection for the Cell. The team? Yes. The park? Mmmm... not so much.
That's not to say taking in a game on the South Side is an unpleasant experience. Sure, it's ugly but it's still a place where baseball is played, and how can you go far wrong with that?. Baseball is good and the Baseball Jesus, he works in mysterious ways. So here are some things the Bunny and I liked about watching a ballgame at Cellular Field...
Loud Ass Music
When the White Sox took the field the park DJ played Thunderstruck by AC/DC. Now maybe it was where we were sitting, but the volume of the sound system was so deafening I practically levitated out of my seat. Since there are few (if any) things in life that cannot be improved by a high decibel dose of AC/DC, the Bunny and I could only nod in approval at this turn of events.
Carnivorous Concessions
Bob told us that since Cellular Field was no great shakes as a ballpark, the organization had put a lot of effort into providing fans with good eats. He was right, the concessions were excellent, and in keeping with Chicago's Stockyard heritage there was all sorts of tasty dead animals to be had - bratwurst, polish sausage and a whole lot more.
The View
There seemed to be an abundance of scantily clad women at Cellular Field. 'Nuff said.
The Bird That Flew By And Shit On My Arm
Perhaps I should clarify. I didn't find this to be all that enjoyable, but Bob, Nat and the Bunny found it quite hilarious. The Bunny found it so funny that he made a special notation in his Moleskin ("Cellular Field: bird shits on Dan.") and factored this into his ballpark rating system. Since this system is highly complex, replete with calculations and algorithms, I argued that the Cell's rating would be skewed by including such a random happening. But the Bunny, since he is a well-known chicken fucker, would not be dissuaded.
After the game Bob and Nat did the sensible thing - they deposited the Bunny and I at a bar and then headed home for bed. Frankly, we loved the Small Bar (as you'll see in the next installment of this tale) and spent several hours there drinking beer and chatting with our new best friend, Rio the Viking Bar Tender. Here is a picture of the Bunny and I with Rio. (Note our mutant-like appearance. This is what happens when you take a road trip in a convertible, in the middle of summer, and neglect to pack any sunscreen. Forewarned is forearmed kids.)
We wrapped up a long day with a stop at I-Hop and then somehow managed to find our way back to Chez Bob.
Little did we know that the coming day would be a maelstrom of weirdness.
*Can you imagine the 'Tampa Bay White Sox?' Ugh.
**U.S. Cellular did not purchase the naming rights until 2003; from 1991 through 2002 the park was known as New Comiskey.
What Has Gone Before
Day 1: Trust Jesus... Baseball Jesus
Day 1: Black Hole Sun
Day 1: Alice's Restaurant
Day 2: All Skate
Day 2: Hungry Like The Wolf
Day 3: The Quest For Cheese
Now, back to our story. Oddly enough, when I left off writing, the Bunny and I were speeding from Milly-wah-kay to Chicago - and a trip to U.S. Cellular Field, home of the Chicago White Sox....
The Bunny and I were reluctant to leave Milly-wah-kay in the rear view mirror. The City of Cheese had been very very good to us, and there the Baseball Jesus had revealed his full and terrible power. In short, apart from the inexplicable lack of a Laverne & Shirley museum, Milly-wah-kay was grand. But there was a schedule to keep, so we pointed Adelaide south towards Chicago.
Our immediate destination was the Logan Square neighborhood, where my friend Bob and his lovely wife Natalie lived and where we would stay for the next two nights. This, I should add, was an act of exceptional kindness on Bob and Nat's part. Here they were, smack dab in the middle of the work week, allowing the two of us to descend on their hearth and home for two days and nights. Further proof that I've been entirely fortunate in the friends I have. ( In any event, the Bunny and I were quiet as church mice while within the precincts of Chez Bob. I think.)
After fighting through traffic we reached Chez Bob just as our hosts were returning from work. Adelaide was stashed away in Bob's garage, and then the four of us hopped into Nat's car and headed for Cellular Field, or as I kept referring to it in my anachronistic fashion, New Comiskey.
Now - the papers, airwaves and internet this past week have been full of stories of the long-lasting woes of the Chicago White Sox. The franchise hasn't captured a World Serious in 88 years. The White Sox haven't won any postseason series since 1917. They are- or were considering
Once upon a time the White Sox played ball in a hidden gem known as Comiskey Park. Built in 1910, by the 1970s Comiskey was the oldest functioning ballpark in Major League Baseball, with a rich and unique history. A history that meant little to owner Jerry Reinsdorf, who by threatening to move the team to Tampa Bay* bullied the city into contributing funds for a new ballpark. In 1990 Comiskey Park was demolished and paved over and in April of 1991 New Comiskey** opened across the street. I can vaguely remember a medium-sized fuss made over New Comiskey being the first new ballpark constructed in some time, and over how modern it was.
Unfortunately for all concerned, the following April Camden Yards opened and its retro design revealed New Comiskey for what it was: your basic cookie-cutter stadium, an ugly bowl with all the aesthetic appeal of something Albert Speer might have had in mind for Berlin circa 1951. While my sample size may not be conclusive, I have to say that during my time in Chicago I didn't meet a single White Sox fan with any great affection for the Cell. The team? Yes. The park? Mmmm... not so much.
That's not to say taking in a game on the South Side is an unpleasant experience. Sure, it's ugly but it's still a place where baseball is played, and how can you go far wrong with that?. Baseball is good and the Baseball Jesus, he works in mysterious ways. So here are some things the Bunny and I liked about watching a ballgame at Cellular Field...
Loud Ass Music
When the White Sox took the field the park DJ played Thunderstruck by AC/DC. Now maybe it was where we were sitting, but the volume of the sound system was so deafening I practically levitated out of my seat. Since there are few (if any) things in life that cannot be improved by a high decibel dose of AC/DC, the Bunny and I could only nod in approval at this turn of events.
Carnivorous Concessions
Bob told us that since Cellular Field was no great shakes as a ballpark, the organization had put a lot of effort into providing fans with good eats. He was right, the concessions were excellent, and in keeping with Chicago's Stockyard heritage there was all sorts of tasty dead animals to be had - bratwurst, polish sausage and a whole lot more.
The View
There seemed to be an abundance of scantily clad women at Cellular Field. 'Nuff said.
The Bird That Flew By And Shit On My Arm
Perhaps I should clarify. I didn't find this to be all that enjoyable, but Bob, Nat and the Bunny found it quite hilarious. The Bunny found it so funny that he made a special notation in his Moleskin ("Cellular Field: bird shits on Dan.") and factored this into his ballpark rating system. Since this system is highly complex, replete with calculations and algorithms, I argued that the Cell's rating would be skewed by including such a random happening. But the Bunny, since he is a well-known chicken fucker, would not be dissuaded.
After the game Bob and Nat did the sensible thing - they deposited the Bunny and I at a bar and then headed home for bed. Frankly, we loved the Small Bar (as you'll see in the next installment of this tale) and spent several hours there drinking beer and chatting with our new best friend, Rio the Viking Bar Tender. Here is a picture of the Bunny and I with Rio. (Note our mutant-like appearance. This is what happens when you take a road trip in a convertible, in the middle of summer, and neglect to pack any sunscreen. Forewarned is forearmed kids.)
We wrapped up a long day with a stop at I-Hop and then somehow managed to find our way back to Chez Bob.
Little did we know that the coming day would be a maelstrom of weirdness.
*Can you imagine the 'Tampa Bay White Sox?' Ugh.
**U.S. Cellular did not purchase the naming rights until 2003; from 1991 through 2002 the park was known as New Comiskey.
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