Fleeting Bleacher Memories

There’s no doubt that the bleachers are one of the elements that helped Wrigley Field become larger than life. We love the lore: there was a time when bleacher seats were not sold ahead of game day, so that anyone who was willing to come early enough could get a seat. That history even made it possible for some fans to come to every single game without having to front for season tickets – Bleacher Bums.



I don’t feel as personally about the bleachers as other people, though, and here’s my confession as to why: I never actually attended a game in the bleachers until just a couple of years ago. My father prefers to sit between the bases, and was never overly concerned with the bleacher experience or all that. Since he was the one sponsoring almost all of my games in my formative years, that meant sitting where he liked. Not that I’m complaining, by any means. It’s just that as a result, I can’t lay as much claim to a general sense of mourning that the Bleacher Experience will be changed next year.

I was thinking the other day about the few games I have seen in the Wrigley bleachers – not quite a dozen or so, I think – and about how they might have been different if there were more seats or amenities or all that. To be honest, I was thinking that the experience probably would not have been much different at all. The Bleachers have already been the popular spot, the trendy destination, and so on for years. So, probably the only people who have any right to gripe are the regulars, and the people who were there when they still held ticket sales for game day.

Even though I never got in on the sacredness of the Bleachers, though, there were a couple of particularly fun games.

In 2003, for example, I was there on September 2nd. That was the day of the doubleheader against St. Louis, the series where the Cubs would establish themselves as the leaders in the Division. I was there for the night game, though, which was the one game in the 5-game series they lost. Kerry Wood pitched spectacularly, allowing only 1 earned run and 2 runs through 7 innings. Unfortunately, Matt Morris shut out the Cubs. Still, we sat in left field, and there was the earliest tremor of the excitement that would course through Wrigley all month, and the next. We knew that something special was starting to happen.

Remember that feeling?

In 2004, I was there on July 3rd, a day game against the White Sox. The game was called for rain after 5 and a half innings, during the fourth rain delay. Maddux got the win, Sosa, Alou and Magglio all hit homeruns for the Chicago teams, and all of us in the right field bleachers were having a grand old time until it turned awful cold during the third rain delay. Still, with the crosstown series, on the Saturday of Fourth of July weekend, the Bleachers were the number 1 destination to be in Chicago, and we were all determined to have as much fun with it as we could.

In 2005, I was there for the home opener on April 8th, one of the most fun games I’ve ever been to, up until it wasn’t. Kerry Wood gave up only 2 runs on 4 hits for 5 and two-thirds innings, and the Cubs were in good shape until LaTroy Hawkins blew the save on a Lyle Overbay double. Then in extra innings, Dusty pulled Glendon Rusch after a third of an inning despite nearing the end of his bullpen, and Jon Leicester got hung out to dry for almost 3 innings and ran out of gas, giving up the game winning hit to Overbay in the 12th. Still, for the first 8 innings of that game, the tingle of the new season was everywhere.

Then there were a couple of fun moments, in games that blur together just a bit. There was Mark Prior admonishing a girl for cursing (“Hey Mark -- Throw me a god damn ball!”) during warmups. There were the cup games, which I’ve won more than my fair share from. Although, those things even out. I remember being invited to play in one cup game with some people I didn’t know who were sitting next to me, and the girl who invited me to play gave me her phone number in the 9th inning. (If a cute curly-haired blonde Cub fan named Julie who is now in her late 20s ever reads this, I’m sorry I never called back. I called, but there were cellular reception problems and then I never called again even though I said I would. It was a bit of a crazy summer, which of course is no excuse.)

The last game I attended at Wrigley before I moved to Texas was in the right field bleachers on June 15th, 2005. I had already resigned from my job and been to Austin to sign an apartment lease, so I was just finishing up my time in Chicago. Unfortunately, Greg Maddux got blasted and the Cubs lost 15-5, which doesn’t even sound as bad as it was because they were down 15-0 in the top of the 7th. I won a huge round of the cup game, though, which translated into huge rounds of Old Style, and then a few rounds at Goose Island and the Irish Oak, and then several bars in Wicker Park. (Shouldn't you always spend your cup game winnings buying rounds that day? Isn't that just good karma?)

For all of this, though, there is still one negative moment that stands out: early last season, I was in the bleachers while the fans were starting to boo Todd Hollandsworth, who was struggling out of the gate. (To put it mildly.) The note I wrote at the time read, “Why are there fans heckling Todd Hollandsworth? He's on OUR TEAM you jags.” This is the moment when I realized that not only were things changing – for baseball, for Cub fans and for my generation, if you’ll indulge me such a grandiose throw-away claim – but that they had already changed. Hollandsworth hadn’t even made a mistake yet that game, but there were fans blasting him like he played for the Phillies.

The Bleachers were never innocent. However, there is another sense in which they were at least consistent, at least by reputation: they were home to knowledgeable fans who pined for Cubs victories, and got behind the players. I know that this element was always there and will always be there, but now it’s just one element, and perhaps not the defining element. Inasmuch as the Bleachers are at the core of Wrigley’s identity, I’ve decided that the Bleacher reconstruction is not so much changing Wrigley as keeping up with its crowds. Why it took me over a 1,000 words to work out what is obvious to everyone is beyond me, but there it is. At least I got a few great memories in that I’ll have in common with other people who will remember what it used to look like out there along Waveland.