The Monument To Failure...Part 2

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After talking to the ultimate Sox hating Cub fan in part 1 we traveled on in search of more evidence. Evidence that being a Cub fan is a mental disorder and that Wrigley Field an anthropological research gold mine.


T-shirt vendors are in abundance around this crumbling epicenter of futility and despair, especially on gameday of a crosstown contest. Many of these shirts are in violation of copyright and intellectual property laws, much to the dismay of the Chicago Cubs and Major League Baseball who both are on a mission to maximize profits from use of their trademarks and punish those who dodge paying the hefty usage fee. Even funnier, some are in violation of good taste and political correctness.


The concentration of vendors is on the Addison side since that’s where the CTA station happens to be.


To be fair, vendors were also catering to the South Siders as well.


A Sidebar: In 1972 I lived in Wrigleyville. I was in a two bedroom apartment with a room mate that cost $ 250 per month on Cornelia between Sheffield and Halsted. The neighborhood was lower class Hispanic and we could watch drug deals going down from our window. A man was stabbed in the alley one night and crawled onto our back porch where he assumed room temperature. My room mate, Barry, woke me up at 3am and told me the police wanted to speak with us. There was young Pedro, lying in a pool of blood on our wooden porch, the trail of blood going down the alley about thirty yards. The police detectives were interested why he picked our porch to croak on. After a few questions and a look inside they zipped poor young Pedro up and hauled him off. Nobody cleaned up the blood that stained the weathered wood for weeks.

Things sure have changed. The neighborhood now looks great. Lawns now grow where dirt and glass and chicken bones once graced the courtyards. Years ago those who invested in Wrigleyville property and made improvements also made a financial windfall, all because of the proximity to Wrigley Field.


Buildings on Sheffield and Waveland with a view of the park over the bleachers grew a handsome business. Here are a few of them. Some are vacant of tenants, the owner more than happy with his seasonal rooftop bleacher party revenue. I say go for it! While watching a baseball game from 300 yards away may not appeal to me I am sure the party is a good time. One outfit called Beyond The Ivy seems to control most of them since banners hung from about 5-6 of the buildings. Their website says you can be a part of failure for the low price of $150-$200 per person per game. My guess is they are a management and catering company that does the dirty work for the building owners. Just a guess.



During the game I noticed construction workers building yet another rooftop bleacher section. If anyone knows what “EAMUS CATULI” and “AC0063100” means please hip me to it.

After observing and soaking up this odd culture we went in to watch the game.
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