The last place I expected to be in October . . .

Last Sunday, I found myself in a place I never expected to be in October--watching a World Series in Chicago with a bar full of devoted fans! This would have been a once-in-a-lifetime event, had the Series and the bar been on the north side of town. Instead, it was on the south side, in a place called "Bridgeport," and the team involved was the White Sox rather than my beloved Cubs. Much to my surprise, I had a fabulous time despite the fact that the wrong Chicago baseball team was involved (though on reflection, my "Best. Sports night. Ever" title for the post on my other blog may have been a bit overstated--see the end of this post for that explanation).

Enough said. It was a rollicking good time, as these photos will show!

First, I took the L to the 35th/Sox stop. There was a drizzling rain, but that did not stop me and my beloved camera from taking care of business. Here is what we saw upon emerging from the L:



Don't these guys look like classic White Sox fans? I made my way toward Sox Park (I refuse to call it by the corporate name), thinking that perhaps free tickets would accidentally fall into my lap. That did not occur, but I did see lots of cops:



I found myself at the main entrance to the park and liked this light fixture:





From there, I could also see those salt-of-the-earth, blue collar Sox fans:



I picked my way between raindrops for several blocks, heading westward, until I arrived at this place, which came highly recommended:



The guy directing traffic asked me if I would make him famous as a result of his photograph--I told him I would do my best! He mentioned something about a Bridgeport paper, I think, but I told him I would work on the Times if I could. :) We both laughed heartily. I really knew I was in the right place when I saw this establishment across the street:



I inadvertently revealed that I was a first-time visitor when I tried to walk in the front door of Schaller's, which apparently is kept closed (I think I read that it's a relatively new front door, installed after a recent car crash into the front wall of the bar). So I found my way to the side entrance and loved what I saw, which was a great old bar with old-time ceiling tiles and lots of interesting things to see:





I was somewhat dismayed to see how crowded the place was, with no seats available even though it was a few hours before game time. Before long, though, I figured out that much of the crowd had stopped on their way to the game and would be leaving soon. I made friends with an older (my parents' age) couple sitting at the bar and they kindly left me with my choice of seats when they departed. Many of their friends stopped by for a chat before they left; one was a very gregarious fellow who introduced himself with hugs all around, despite being informed by his friends that they had only just met me. That's just the kind of place Schaller's is. Oh, and the wife confirmed for me that the Chardonnay offered there was drinkable--a real bargain at $3 a glass (poured from its own little wine bottle).

So I found myself with a primo seat at the bar (meaning a seat with a great view of both the door and the television), where I sat next to Bob, whose "ladyfriend" lives in Bridgeport but had not yet arrived at the bar:



Next to Bob sat Pat, and next to Pat was another man I chatted with frequently throughout the night, but to whom I was never formally introduced:



You should also meet Billy, one of the few bar staff who is not related to the owner:



Billy is, however, friends with a few of the owner's grandkids. More on him later. \But you should note the "R.I.P." signs behind Billy, which show the trail of teams the White Sox have left in their wake in this post season.

While we're talking about the bar's decor, here is a shot of the wall behind the end of the bar nearest the side door:



I think this gives you a good flavor of what the place is like. You should also meet these guys, who were among my favorites in the place:



If they are not true fans, I don't know who is. While we waited for the game to begin, I met these revelers who were on their way to the park:



They were very jolly and one was kind enough to purchase a lovely Sox Bling Bracelet for me from another bar customer who makes them. Here she is with her product:



and here is my feeble attempt to take an arty shot of my bracelet, which resulted only in me having a hand that looked huge!



The boys left for the game and I turned my attention to having a bite to eat before I would (hopefully) be too excited to think about food. What else would I order at Schaller's but a hot beef sandwich with mashed potatoes and gravy? A taste treat for only about $5; the perfect thing in cool and rainy weather! When I finished eating, I met this group, which was standing behind me envying my meal:



Meet Eric, Tom (father), Tom (son) and Tom's girlfriend Lisa. They had just arrived from the Bears game (the Bears won) and only a very basic sense of pride stopped Eric from eating my leftovers, which were plentiful. We joked with Bob about how he would look in Lisa's pink parka:



This just shows how quickly one makes friends at Schaller's. So, Lou Rawls sang the National Anthem:



and the game began, and everyone was excited:



During lulls in the game (of which there were a fair number in the early going), there was a bit of frolicking, with Mr. Schaller (the owner) coming around for a visit:



and a father/son portrait of Tom and Tom:



and chatting with the friendly Pat and Bob:



and visits by celebrities like Ozzie Guillen:



and Barbara, Bob's "ladyfriend":



This "lull" was a span of 4 innings in which the Sox posted 0's each time and were losing, 4-2, to the Astros. But that all changed in the bottom of the 7th inning, when "Paulie" Konerko came up to bat. I'll let you guess from this pictures whether that went well for the Sox:











Yep, Paulie did well, hitting a grand slam that moved the Sox into the lead, 6-4. And there was elation all around, as these pictures show.

After that, things settled down for a bit:



But you could feel an excitement in the air, reflected partly by the presence of the media (from CLTV, I think) just waiting to see how fans would react to whatever happened in the game:







There were some tense moments when the Astros tied the game by scoring 2 runs in the top of the 9th inning:



But you know what? That tension quickly dissipated, when the least likely person of all, Scott Podsednik, hit a walk-off home run to bring the Sox a 7-6 victory! There was bedlam in the bar:









Then came the rituals:



Parading the mannequin (or is it a puppet?).



Sharing one's amazement with friends by cell phone.



Clapping in sheer appreciation.

Even the replays of Pods' homer brought great delight:



Jay made sure the beer fridge remained well-stocked:



And people started coming over from the park:



With them came the dans-ing:







And there was happiness all around!



Before I go, I want you to know Billy and Jay (Schaller), my two new Cubs-loving friends, with whom I joined in solidarity as we realized, all at the same time I think, that while we were happy for the Sox, seeing them win a World Series game made us only hungrier to share that experience with our own team:



You see, someone told me during the course of the evening that Jay is a Cubs fan (much to his father's chagrin); I'm not sure how he and Billy figured out that I am one as well, because I kept fairly quiet about that throughout the night. But at some point, Billy shyly and briefly pulled up his shirt sleeve to show me his Cubs tatoo, and Jay slipped me a complimentary wine refill. After that, I knew that we were united in our resolve to have this experience with our team sometime in our lifetimes.

Oh, I almost forgot to add: the soul-jarring aspect of this experience, which I referenced in my other post. Let me preface this by saying that I have met many nice people who are fellow Cubs fans . . . Billy and Jay (see above) are two examples of this. The folks I have encountered "electronically" via Bleed Cubbie Blue are another example. But I realized while watching this game with these Sox fans that I have never had so much fun while milling about in Wrigleyville after a Cubs game. In fact, I have sometimes found myself there after a game I' ve attended by myself (with me having mainly married friends who have kids and live in the burbs of Chicagoland, and a family that could not care less about baseball, it can be difficult to find company for games), and I have on a few of those occasions taken a dive into the Wrigley bar scene. But it has never been like the feeling at Schaller's. I realize playoff baseball is different, but still . . .
Perhaps I'm just missing the place where the "real" Cubs fans hang out. I hope that's the case. Because for a little while on Sunday, I was feeling like a person born into the wrong family. And I can't change teams, because I do love my Cubs and always will.