Things I Like - Chicago

Tomorrow marks the 30 year anniversary of a Chicago event very near and dear to my heart. The infamous Disco Demolition at Comiskey Park.

That’s right, I’m old enough to have been a crazed, anti-disco teen in 1979. Even better, I actually went to the game that day, not to see the White Sox of course, but because you could get into the park for 98 cents if you brought a disco album to be blown up between the two games of a double header. FYI for you kids out there – ‘albums’ were how we listened to recorded music back in the olden times.

To be honest, I never understood the thought process behind the promotion. It certainly got a crowd into the park (the place was packed – not even standing room available) but the whole 'down with disco' theme didn’t make sense. If you weren’t a disco fan to begin with, where were you going to get the album to blow up??

I went with a group of friends that night – we had seats in the upper balcony along the first base side pretty close to the front rail. I truly don’t remember a thing about the game but I will never forget the demolition. A huge crate full of disco albums was dragged into center field and then Steve Dahl and Garry Meier (the DJs for the radio station promoting the event) drove out in what looked like a WWII jeep. Dahl, dressed like a general, looked a little nervous out there in front of more than 50,000 people, not his usual loud and obnoxious self. He made a quick speech and then blew up the albums.

It was kind of anti-climactic, although there was lots of smoke and the records all went flying up into the air, the scoreboard made more noise after a White Sox home run. Regardless, the crowd of rabid disco haters went nuts. Dahl and Meier left the field pretty quickly but the crowd kept shouting and stomping. And then it happened. Just as things were beginning to quiet down, some guy climbed over the wall just beyond the White Sox dugout and raced across the field to slide into second base. There was relative silence for about 2 seconds and then the place erupted all over again. Kids in the lower level seats emptied out onto the field while those in the grandstand started racing down the ramps to get to the bottom.

Most of the ‘baseball’ fans were angry and disgusted at the whole thing and although I agree that it wasn’t a shining moment of model citizenry, it was absolutely a lot of fun. There was no violence or mean spirited activity – the crowd was way too buzzed for that. Just a huge bunch of crazy kids intent on exercising their time honored right to behave like an idiot.

My friends and I left before the riot police showed up. We went on to a previously scheduled barbecue and I got home at a reasonable time that night. Unfortunately for me, I hadn’t thought to call my father who had been watching the whole thing on TV. When the station announced the arrival of Chicago’s finest and cut away from the park, he just about had a stroke. When I didn’t call in after leaving the game he was convinced that I’d been arrested or abducted or something.

I of course thought this was ridiculous. Remember, we’re talking 1979 here. Cell phones didn’t even exist until 1984 – I was supposed to make my friends pull over at the nearest pay phone so I could call home? And later I was at a barbecue, not watching television, I had no idea what was going on back at the park. Mind you, Dad knew I was going to the barbecue after the game. Regardless, it was apparently my fault that thousands of kids got high (not me – or at least not on purpose) and then ran out onto the field (again, not me) and caused the Sox to call in the riot police (definitely not me).

So not fair.

Read more about this historic event here, more photos here.