Ahh, the smell of fresh cut grass, the colorful blue and red lights radiating the night sky, the sight of beautiful looking peo-- ERRRRRR WATCH OUT! BRAKE! WE GOT A STUMBLER!!!! You slam on the breaks of your car three inches from a young 20 something man who darted across Clark street, solo cup still in hand.
Wrigleyville is rich in history and a main tourist attraction in the city of Chicago. The Chicago Cubs might not be the best team in the league (ha) but they do have an amazing atmosphere, which is the teams main marketing scheme. By getting to the field, you experience an event, not just a game. Most spectators aren't even conscious enough to watch the game, or their ducking out early to hit up the Cubby Bear. I'm proud of all my Chicago teams, even the Cubs, even if I don't give the actual game the attention I would if I was over at the United Center or Soldier. Regardless, some of the characters I have seen there are enough to make me not want to go any farther north than Lincoln Park.
The people that emerge near the streets of Clark and Addison are most likely in rare form. It's almost like some kind of messed up time warp. Where washed up bros go back to relive their glory days of puking in bushes and ending up in some townies bedroom and waking up all like, "Whoa. Hell yeah let's do it again tonight! HEH." I like to call these people: Wrigleyvillains. They lurk for hours trying to capture their pray, by buying rounds of $3 beers for innocent victims until you are succommed into their drunken state of doom. You suddenly become one of them. That's just what they want. Soon you'll be emotionless (or one better, an extra emotional) zombie staggering down the roads looking for a taco stand or nearest dumpster- which ever comes first. You'll be peeing in alleyways and pushing people away from your cab. Trying to hop fences and lose belongings. Pants are optional. Pure evil. So scary.
Now I'm not saying all Wrigleyville groupies are Wrigleyvillains, but there is a second level group who are one cherry bomb away from becoming them. This crew is categorized as sweaty drunk guys in American Eagle button downs and girls wearing Mardi Gras beads, mini skirts, and those strappy sandals. They are ALIVE (kind of) AND WELL (not really).
Okay, I guess that's slightly exaggerated, so I guess my biggest complaint is just the sprinting across the street mid traffic. Listen girl, I drive a Navigator and can't just stop on command the second you dart into the street because you heard "$2 shots!" from Red Ivy across the street. Just can't.
This is nothing against the actual grounds, the field itself, or Cubs organization. I used to do marketing for a restaurant / bar there and had to pass fliers out at the field. I ended up doing laps around the field arm in arm with the dude dressed as a hot dog once. (Don't ask.) Great guy nonetheless. I'm just talking about the select drunkwads that carry themselves not so descretly. I guess the beauty of the city is that the different neighborhoods gives everyone a choice of what they will declare as "their scene." If you do ever have the opportunity to check out the Wrigleyvillains in action and never have before, then I suggest you do so, it is entertaining to say the least. Just make sure you watch your back and drink with one eye open...then head to River North.
|Photo courtesy: foulballs.net|