Yes, there's something uniquely American, uniquely 1970s, and even strangely life-affirming about the out-of-control baseball promotional game. It's like the perfect expression of Midwestern malaise.
The great irony about Ten Cent Beer Night, of course, is that the Indians actually managed to TIE THE GAME, but the fans were so drunk that they had to forfeit anyway! Oy.
Some of my personal favorites:
"A woman ran out to the Indians' on-deck circle and lifted her shirt, and a naked man sprinted to second base as Grieve hit his second home run. A father and son team got into the act one inning later, running out in the outfield and mooning the bleacherites.[2] The ugliness escalated when Cleveland's Leron Lee hit a line drive into the stomach of Ferguson Jenkins, dropping the hurler to the ground. The fans in the upper deck of Cleveland Stadium cheered, then chanted, "Hit 'em again! Hit 'em again! Harder! Harder!"
"Mike Hargrove, who had come in at mid-game, was the target of hot dogs and spit, and at one point, was very nearly hit with an empty gallon jug of Thunderbird wine."
"After Texas outfielder Jeff Burroughs violently reacted to a fan stealing his glove and cap, the Texas players, led by manager Billy Martin, charged out to his aid with other members of his team onto the field with bats to defend the players against an avalanche of drunken fans pouring onto the field or hurling bottles from the stands. As soon as they arrived, hundreds of fans poured into the outfield, some armed with knives, chains and portions of stadium seats that they had broken apart. Realizing the Rangers might be in danger of their lives, Ken Aspromonte, the Indians' manager, ordered his players to grab bats and help the Rangers. Fans began throwing steel folding chairs and Cleveland relief pitcher Tom Hilgendorf was hit in the head by one of them.[3] Mike Hargrove, involved in a fight with a fan, had to fight yet another on his way back to the Texas dugout. It was becoming obvious that the game could not continue. Every base was stolen as souvenirs, apparently the bases were kept and never returned and many fans threw a vast array of objects, such as cups, rocks, radio batteries, hot dogs, popcorn containers, and even several chairs."
My dad was living in Ohio at the time, I believe. He remembers it well.
Ten Cent Beer Night was almost eclipsed, though not quite if you ask me, by Disco Demolition Night:
"Many spectators, realizing that long-playing (LP) records were shaped remarkably like frisbees, threw their records from the stands during the game, and the records often struck other folks. (The fans also allegedly threw beer and even firecrackers from the stands.)"
"On July 12th, 2001, in a brief ceremony before the Florida Marlins home game against the New York Yankees, Mike Veeck, by then a marketing consultant for the team, apologized to Harry Wayne Casey, lead singer for KC and the Sunshine Band, a leading disco act."
Finally, all was well with the world.
At the bottom of the Wikipedia page there's a link to a big message board filled with stories from people who WERE REALLY THERE! That's like having been to Woodstock, but better. "Yeah well my dad was at DISCO DEMOLITION NIGHT."
10 cent beer night sounds so fun. Can you imagine both teams circled defending themselves with bats?
ReplyDeleteReminds me of the wonderful American college tradition of drinking a shot of beer a minute for an hour. Or drinking your age in shots.
Yes, there's something uniquely American, uniquely 1970s, and even strangely life-affirming about the out-of-control baseball promotional game. It's like the perfect expression of Midwestern malaise.
ReplyDeleteThe great irony about Ten Cent Beer Night, of course, is that the Indians actually managed to TIE THE GAME, but the fans were so drunk that they had to forfeit anyway! Oy.
Some of my personal favorites:
"A woman ran out to the Indians' on-deck circle and lifted her shirt, and a naked man sprinted to second base as Grieve hit his second home run. A father and son team got into the act one inning later, running out in the outfield and mooning the bleacherites.[2] The ugliness escalated when Cleveland's Leron Lee hit a line drive into the stomach of Ferguson Jenkins, dropping the hurler to the ground. The fans in the upper deck of Cleveland Stadium cheered, then chanted, "Hit 'em again! Hit 'em again! Harder! Harder!"
"Mike Hargrove, who had come in at mid-game, was the target of hot dogs and spit, and at one point, was very nearly hit with an empty gallon jug of Thunderbird wine."
"After Texas outfielder Jeff Burroughs violently reacted to a fan stealing his glove and cap, the Texas players, led by manager Billy Martin, charged out to his aid with other members of his team onto the field with bats to defend the players against an avalanche of drunken fans pouring onto the field or hurling bottles from the stands. As soon as they arrived, hundreds of fans poured into the outfield, some armed with knives, chains and portions of stadium seats that they had broken apart. Realizing the Rangers might be in danger of their lives, Ken Aspromonte, the Indians' manager, ordered his players to grab bats and help the Rangers. Fans began throwing steel folding chairs and Cleveland relief pitcher Tom Hilgendorf was hit in the head by one of them.[3] Mike Hargrove, involved in a fight with a fan, had to fight yet another on his way back to the Texas dugout. It was becoming obvious that the game could not continue. Every base was stolen as souvenirs, apparently the bases were kept and never returned and many fans threw a vast array of objects, such as cups, rocks, radio batteries, hot dogs, popcorn containers, and even several chairs."
My dad was living in Ohio at the time, I believe. He remembers it well.
Ten Cent Beer Night was almost eclipsed, though not quite if you ask me, by Disco Demolition Night:
"Many spectators, realizing that long-playing (LP) records were shaped remarkably like frisbees, threw their records from the stands during the game, and the records often struck other folks. (The fans also allegedly threw beer and even firecrackers from the stands.)"
"On July 12th, 2001, in a brief ceremony before the Florida Marlins home game against the New York Yankees, Mike Veeck, by then a marketing consultant for the team, apologized to Harry Wayne Casey, lead singer for KC and the Sunshine Band, a leading disco act."
Finally, all was well with the world.
At the bottom of the Wikipedia page there's a link to a big message board filled with stories from people who WERE REALLY THERE! That's like having been to Woodstock, but better. "Yeah well my dad was at DISCO DEMOLITION NIGHT."