Brian Hieggelke

Compared to the guy with his face neatly painted--half black, half white--at Shinnick's or the woman with the creepy ventriloquist's dummy taking up a precious seat at Schaller's Pump, the World Series crowd at First Base at 32nd and Normal is fairly nondescript by tonight's standards. Since the game already plays on the two modest TVs parked above the bar, the laminated-ticket-wearing haves have long ago left behind the have-nots in the bar and taken their seats in the rain at The Cell. Before long, a murmur creeps through the bar, with heads nodding at two gents near the entrance, laminates strangely draped around their necks. "We just got thrown out of the game," one says with a mixture of pride, sadness and incredulity. "For standing and clapping." He's careful to explain that they were not disruptive, were not swearing, and only became belligerent--even taking photos of their captor--after the eviction. "When your pitcher has an oh-and-two count, you should stand up, right?" he explains before complaining that the stands were occupied by suburbanites and Cubs fans. "Grinder Ball Rule #39," he exclaims. "No fun."

He sets out to break that rule again, leading cheers within a crowd that's growing increasingly excited as the game grows increasingly exciting. The Sox start to rally. The bar erupts in rhythmic chants of "Let's go, White Sox!" cheering on the players as if they were just over the outfield wall, rather than ten blocks or so away. When Paul Konerko responds to the bar's chants of "Pauly, Pauly" by turning the game around with a grand slam, First Base roars with hysteria. The evictee is delirious, hugging a heretofore stranger with such enthusiasm that he practically ends up in the guy's lap. He may have lost the seat of a lifetime, but he found the fans he was looking for.

(2005-10-25)

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