Read Ultimate Baseball Road Trip Online
Authors: Josh Pahigian,Kevin O’Connell
Ultimate Baseball Road Trip (78 page)
CTA Map:
http://chicago.cubs.mlb.com/chc/images/ballpark/480×480_CTA_map_2004.gif
Another public option is the Cubs remote parking program, which offers lot spaces at the DeVry University near Addison and Western for $6. Once you pay to park, a free shuttle bus takes you to the game. For more information, call (773) 836-7000.
DeVry Shuttle Map:
http://chicago.cubs.mlb.com/chc/images/ballpark/525×410_devry_map_07.gif
ROOFTOP BLEACHERS
Walking along Waveland or Sheffield behind the left-field bleachers, you may look up to see more bleachers atop the many private apartment buildings. One rooftop has a foul pole aligned with Wrigley’s left-field line and a 460-foot marker. Another has a funny Harry Caray Face. Others sport Latin phrases praising the home team. These rooftops are home to private clubs composed of members who pay annual dues for roof-view privileges. Many are also available to be rented out for corporate flings on a nightly basis.
The rooftops were at the center of a neighborhood-versus-Cubs controversy in the early 2000s and at one point the Cubs even built spite-fences around the field. Eventually the warring sides negotiated, however, and today the Cubs receive a portion of all revenues derived from these unusual “ballpark” seats.
As for the tradition of watching games from outside the park, it dates all the way back to the 1929 World Series when the Cubs themselves erected temporary bleachers on Waveland and Sheffield to accommodate overflow crowds. They did the same again for the World Series games in 1932 and 1935. Over the years, local residents would sometimes catch some sun and watch the games from atop their buildings. Then organized rooftop viewing swept through the
neighborhood in response to the Cubs’ magical 1984 season. And it’s been growing ever since.
Is the wind blowing in or out? That’s the most important question swirling around Wrigleyville as game time approaches. Okay, it’s not the most important question to everyone. But to the dorky guys carrying their baseball gloves around everywhere they go, it is.
A few hours before first pitch, a legion of ball hawks assembles at the corner of Kenmore and Waveland behind the bleachers. Wearing gloves and toting ball bags, they wait for BP dingers to come bouncing into the street. Then they scramble like fire ants overwhelming a wounded antelope to claim their prize.
A few years back, Josh spent an afternoon jostling among the regulars and was impressed by their enthusiasm and glove-work. A guy named Kenny claimed to have more than eight hundred balls at home. Ray claimed to be the best at catching balls on the fly. Because the wind was blowing in, however, the regulars predicted few if any balls would escape the confines. And they were right.
Though he didn’t get a ball while waiting on the sidewalk beyond the bleachers Josh did meet an avid Cubs fan named Doug who made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.
A longtime ball hawk, Doug explained that the team was selling used Wrigley Field stadium chairs for $25 a pop or four for $75. And he reasoned that if Josh and he pooled their money, they could each walk away with a pair of chairs for only $37.50 apiece.
“What do you say?” Doug asked. “Are you in?”
“You had me at ‘hello,’” Josh replied, already trying to think of the words he would use to convince his wife the chairs would look great in their living room and to convince Kevin they would be no bother to have in the backseat of the car during the remaining 1,400 miles of the road trip.
Josh and Doug met after the game to complete the deal. Kevin allowed the chairs into our rented Dodge Sebring.
But Josh’s wife Heather banished the chairs to the Pahigian Family Basement shortly after he brought them in the house. And it’s not even a finished basement!
The Mets’ Dave Kingman hit the longest homer in Wrigley history on April 14, 1976. The 550-footer smashed a porch railing on Kenmore. Kingman, who would join the Cubs in 1978 and a year later hit forty-eight dingers for them, became the answer to an interesting trivia question in 1977 when he played in every Major League division during a single season. There were only four divisions at the time, of course. Kingman began the season with the Mets in the National League East, before being traded to the Padres in the National League West, then to the Angels in the American League West, and finally to the Yankees in the American League East. Keeping things in perspective, he may have played in four divisions, but only two states. And how did all that packing and unpacking affect his play? In 132 games he batted .221 with twenty-six HRs and seventy-eight RBIs, compared to the .236 average he posted over a sixteen-year career in which he averaged thirty-seven HRs for every 162 games played.
On the corner of Sheridan and Belmont stands a statue of Civil War General Philip Henry Sheridan on his horse. The horse has very large testicles and it is a National League tradition for visiting teams to haze rookies by making them paint the horse’s testicles in the team’s colors on their first trip to Chicago each year. You think that’s bad? Imagine being the guy whose job it is to clean off those horse balls in the morning?
“Mommy, what’s that man doing to that horse?”
On the corner of Sheffield and Waveland, a statue memorializes one of baseball’s greatest broadcasters. Harry Caray, posed in his trademark Cubs jacket, points his microphone at an unseen crowd as an imaginary chorus of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” fills the afternoon air. Caray’s career began in St. Louis in 1945. After twenty-five years in the Red Birds’ booth, he moved to Oakland for the 1970 season, then became the White Sox play-by-play man in 1971. In 1982, he moved across town, where he would remain until his passing in 1998.
On the corner of Sheffield and Addison, meanwhile, stands a statue of Billy Williams. “Sweet Swingin’ Billy” spent fifty-two years with the Cubs as a player, coach, and member of the front office. With a .290 average, 2,711 hits, and 426 home runs, his place in the Hall of Fame was well deserved.
On the corner of Addison and Clark, Ernie Banks is emblazoned in bronze. “Mr. Cub” played nineteen seasons at shortstop and first base at Wrigley, belting 512 homers along the way. He coined the phrase, “It’s a beautiful day for a game. Let’s play two!”
Shortly after his passing in December of 2010, the Cubs announced that Ron Santo would become the fourth Cub honored with a statue. The statue was erected in 2011, then later that year the baseball Hall of Fame’s Veteran’s Committee chose Santo for long-overdue enshrinement in 2012. Playing in a pitchers era, Santo spent all fifteen of his big league seasons with the Cubs, amassing a .277 average and 342 HRs. He made nine All-Star teams and won five consecutive Gold Gloves at third base in the 1960s.
Wrigleyville offers scores of great places to hang out before or after the game. Whether you consider yourself a yuppie, slacker, bohemian, or karaoke queen, there’s something in this distinctive neighborhood for you. So do enjoy.
3516 N. Clark St.
This joint is named after the New York Giants’ Fred Merkle whose infamous base-running blunder helped the Cubs win the 1908 pennant. Because this is a family publication we’ll try to refrain from using the word “boner,” as baseball lore officially does, to refer to Merkle’s mistake.
It is fitting that this joint be named after one of the game’s most famous goats seeing as it resides in the same storefront where the Billy Goat Tavern once welcomed fans. We’ll get to the story of the Billy Goat’s Curse a little bit later.
140 West Belmont Ave.
Gooey cheese. Thick, rich tomato sauce. And loads and loads of toppings. More toppings than you’ve ever seen on a pizza. Chicago is famous for its deep-dish pies and Giordano’s makes one of the best in town. The pizzas are served with marinara on top of the cheese, an interesting and not in the least bit regrettable culinary innovation. Eat up!
2622 North Clark St.
This place is a bit of a walk from Wrigleyville, but it has exceptional Chicago-style hot dogs. In case you don’t know, a Chicago dog is a char-grilled all-beef natural-casing Vienna served on a poppy-seed roll and topped with mint, green relish, chopped onion, red tomato, a spear of dill pickle, hot peppers, celery salt, and mustard. Just remember, folks don’t call their dogs “dogs” in these parts. They call ’em “red hots.”
Merkle’s Boner
The 1908 season was winding down when the Cubs visited New York for a crucial September affair against the Giants. With a week to play, the teams were tied atop the National League standings. No one imagined they’d still be tied at the end of the day. The skies offered no threat of rain, so the game would certainly be played to its conclusion and the winner would assume sole possession of first.
As the afternoon wore on, the game entered the later innings as a pitcher’s duel.
After eight and a half the score was tied 1-1. Finally, with two outs in the bottom of the ninth, the Giants advanced Moose McCormick to third base on a long single to right by nineteen-year-old first baseman Fred Merkle, who was starting his very first game of the season in place of an injured teammate. The Polo Grounds crowd rose to its feet, as the roused grandstand fans joined the army of onlookers who had been standing all game long behind roped off areas in the deepest reaches of the outfield. The Giants crowd anticipated a victory that would propel their team into first place. And the next batter, Al Bridwell, delivered. He lined a clean single to right-center. Bridwell sprinted toward first base. McCormick trotted home from third. And the game was over. Or so it seemed.
There was one problem: Merkle never ran to second base. He took several steps toward the keystone sack, but then, as the jubilant crowd spilled onto the field, he took a right turn and ran toward the Giants clubhouse, which was located beyond the centerfield fence.
However understandable Merkle’s panicked flight may have been, the play was still technically live as long as there was a potential force-out for the Cubs to record at second base, and Merkle was still a live runner. Savvy Chicago second baseman Johnny Evers braved the stampeding masses to retrieve a ball—whether it was the actual one Bridwell hit was later debated—and then stepped on second to end the inning and negate the apparent winning run. The umpires huddled and then ruled Merkle out.
The game was still tied. But with the crowd on the field it was impossible to resume play, so the umps ruled the contest a tie. The two teams played out the remainder of their schedules and finished the season with identical 98-55-1 records.
To determine the NL champion, the teams made up the controversial tie by starting a new game on October 8. The Cubs prevailed 4-2. Simply because Merkle had failed to run from first to second on a single … well, actually a fielder’s choice … his team was denied a trip to the World Series. He would be derided as a “Bonehead” for the rest of his life. As for the Cubs, they would go on to beat the Tigers in a five-game October Classic. And they haven’t won a World Series since.
We should warn you. Be prepared to be treated viciously by the foul-mouthed staff. This place is famous for after-dark shouting matches between drunken patrons and the counter help.
Also, think twice about doing a Google search for “the wiener circle.” You might be surprised by what pops up on your computer screen. Now that we think of it, be careful searching for “Merkle’s Boner” too.
3040 North Clark St.
We found this a convenient place to grab a pregame wienie or Italian dipped-beef sandwich. A dipped beef is a hot roast beef sandwich, loaded with sautéed green peppers and onions, then doused, and we do mean doused, with au jus. This soaking bread and beef makes one delicious mess.
1059 West Addison St.
A Wrigleyville classic, the Cubby Bear offers a spacious bar area, pub grub, a roof deck, and live bands. If you like to run with the yuppie crowd, this might be the best place for you in the immediate vicinity of the park.
3655 North Sheffield Ave.
The favorite hangout of bleacher bums is located right outside Gate N. With outdoor seating and a limited menu centered around cased-meat, it’s one of those places worth stopping into just to say you’ve been there. Order an Old Style and drink it out of a plastic cup, then hurry across the street in time for first pitch. If you’re looking to get lucky after the game, stick around.
3540 North Clark St.
This spacious bar features the best sports decor in Wrigleyville and an upstairs game room with real live batting cages. When we visited, Ronnie Woo Woo was cutting the rug with an attractive blonde.
After a few frosties, we headed to the batting cages where, for just $1 for twelve balls, fans line up to see if they’re cockeyed yet. Native son John Cusack was allegedly once a regular in the “Major League” (eighty to eighty-five mile-per-hour) cage.
We tried the “Triple A” (seventy- to seventy-five-mile-per-hour) cage. After stretching and strapping on a helmet, Josh stepped up to the plate and slapped a few weak liners to right field. Then Kevin took his turn, which turned out to be much less a “turn” than an exercise in futility and ever-lasting embarrassment. He foul-tipped two pitches, but couldn’t put a ball in play. Afterward, he whined that the strike zone was calibrated for someone much shorter than him.
