(Here's a shameless direct steal from Chicago Reader's Best of Chicago 2012 issue. It's written by Sam Worley. I couldn't have said it better. I was reminded of this these past two evenings as I watched train after Red Line train limp into Grand and push off again without me on it, as Cubs fans took over the platform and all eight cars.)
Not many civic experiences are worse than when you're a CTA regular pitched into a train full of Wrigley-bound Cubs fans: you're minding your own business—just trying to finish Fifty Shades of Grey or whatever—and there's not even room to stand, let alone sit, because the car is so packed with besotted blond people who are always shouting to their buddies on the other side of the car. . . . But eventually the hordes alight the train at Addison—and what sweet relief follows! There are seats. A satisfied quiet sweeps the car. . . . (S)omeone else emits a sigh, or a low whistle. The passengers exchange grateful eye contact—you're all sharing this together. At least for the next five seconds.
(Read the entire text.)