Mr. Ed
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Joined: 7/14/2007
From: Minne-so-ta
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ORIGINAL: djskillz Maybe THE best baseball story there, Ed. White Sox officials had hoped for a crowd of 20,000, about 5,000 more than usual. Instead, at least 50,000—including tens of thousands of Dahl's adherents—packed the stadium, and thousands more continued to sneak in even after gates were closed. Many of the records were not collected by staff and were thrown like flying discs from the stands. After Dahl blew up the collected records, thousands of fans stormed the field and remained there until dispersed by riot police. The second game was initially postponed, but was forfeited by the White Sox the next day by order of American League president Lee MacPhail. Disco Demolition Night preceded, and may have helped precipitate, the decline of disco in late 1979 Owner Bill Veeck was concerned the promotion might turn into a disaster and checked himself out of the hospital, where he had been undergoing tests.[21] The elder Veeck's fears were substantiated when he saw the people walking towards the ballpark that afternoon; many carried signs that described disco in profane terms.[6][17] The doubleheader sold out, leaving at least 20,000 people outside the ballpark.[17] Some were not content to remain there, leaping turnstiles, climbing fences, and entering through open windows.[22] The attendance was officially reported as 47,795.[23] Bill Veeck estimated that there were anywhere from 50,000 to 55,000 in the park—easily the largest crowd of his second stint as White Sox owner.[24] The Chicago Police Department closed off-ramps from the Dan Ryan Expressway near the stadium.[6] Attendees were supposed to deposit their records into a large box, some 4 by 6 by 5 feet (1.2 by 1.8 by 1.5 m) tall; once the box was overflowing, many people brought their discs to their seats.[25] The first game was to begin at 6 pm CDT, with the second game to follow.[26] Lorelei, a model who did public appearances for WLUP and who was very popular in Chicago that summer for her sexually provocative poses in the station's advertisements, threw out the first pitch.[27][28] As the first game began, Mike Veeck got word that thousands of people were trying to get into the park without tickets. He sent his security personnel to the stadium gates to keep the would-be gate crashers at bay. This left the field unattended, and fans began throwing the uncollected disco LPs and singles from the stands. Tigers designated hitter Rusty Staub remembered that the records would slice through the air, and land sticking out of the ground. He urged teammates to wear batting helmets when playing their positions, "It wasn't just one, it was many. Oh, God almighty, I've never seen anything so dangerous in my life."[29] Attendees also threw firecrackers, empty liquor bottles, and lighters onto the field. The game was stopped several times because of the rain of foreign objects.[17] Dozens of hand-painted banners with such slogans as "Disco sucks" were hung from the ballpark's seating decks.[27] White Sox broadcaster Harry Caray could see groups of people, who were clearly music rather than baseball fans, wandering through the stadium. Others sat intently in their seats, awaiting the explosion.[30] Mike Veeck later remembered an odor of marijuana in the grandstand and said of the attendees, "This is the Woodstock they never had."[21] The miasma permeated the press box, which both Caray and his broadcast partner, Jimmy Piersall, commented on over the air.[25] The crowds outside the stadium threw records as well, or gathered them together and burned them in bonfires.[29] Detroit won the first game, 4–1.[6] The first game ended at 8:16 pm; at 8:40 Dahl, dressed in army fatigues and a helmet,[27] emerged onto the playing surface together with Meier and Lorelei. They proceeded to center field where the vinyl-filled box awaited, though they first did a lap of the field in a Jeep, showered (according to Dahl, lovingly) by his troops with firecrackers and beer. The large box containing the collected records had been rigged with explosives. Dahl and Meier warmed up the crowd, leading attendees in a chant of "disco sucks". Lorelei recalled that the view from center field was surreal. On the mound, White Sox pitcher Ken Kravec, scheduled to start the second game, began to warm up. Other White Sox, in the dugout and wearing batting helmets, looked out upon the scene. Fans who felt events were getting out of control and who wished to leave the ballpark had difficulty doing so; in an effort to deny the intruders entry, security had padlocked all but one gate.[6][22] Dahl told the crowd, This is now officially the world's largest anti-disco rally! Now listen—we took all the disco records you brought tonight, we got 'em in a giant box, and we're gonna blow 'em up reeeeeeal goooood.[25] Dahl set off the explosives, destroying the records and tearing a large hole in the outfield grass.[30] With most of the security personnel still watching the gates per Mike Veeck's orders, there was almost no one guarding the playing surface.[23] Soon, the first of what would be thousands of attendees rushed onto the field, causing Kravec to flee the mound and join his teammates in a barricaded clubhouse. Between 5,000 and 7,000 people are estimated to have taken the field. Some climbed the foul poles, others set records on fire, or ripped up the grass. The batting cage was destroyed; the bases were pulled up and stolen. Among those taking the field was 21-year-old aspiring actor Michael Clarke Duncan; during the melee, Duncan slid into third base, had a silver belt buckle stolen,[31] and went home with a bat from the dugout.[32] As Bill Veeck stood with a microphone near where home plate had been, begging people to return to the stands, a bonfire raged in center field.[6][18][22][33] Years later, Lorelei remembered that she had been waving to the crowd when she was grabbed by two of the bodyguards who had accompanied the Jeep and placed her back in the vehicle. The party was unable to return to home plate because of the rowdy fans, so the Jeep was driven out of the stadium and through the surrounding streets, to the delight of the many Cohos outside the stadium who recognized the occupants. They were driven to the front of the stadium, ushered back inside, and taken up to the press room where they had spent most of the first game.[28] Caray unsuccessfully attempted to restore order by the public address system. The scoreboard, flashing "PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR SEATS", was ignored as was the playing of "Take Me Out to the Ball Game". Some of the attendees were dancing in circles around the burning vinyl shards.[25] Dahl offered his help to get the rowdy fans to leave, but it was declined.[34] At 9:08 pm,[16] Chicago police in full riot gear arrived to the applause of the baseball fans remaining in the stands. Those on the field hastily dispersed upon seeing the police. Thirty-nine people were arrested for disorderly conduct; estimates of injuries to those at the event range from none to over thirty.[22] Bill Veeck wanted the teams to play the second game once order was restored. However, the field was so badly torn up that umpiring crew chief Dave Phillips felt that it was still not playable even after White Sox groundskeepers spent an hour clearing away debris. Tigers manager Sparky Anderson refused to allow his players to take the field in any event due to safety concerns. Phillips called American League president Lee MacPhail, who postponed the second game to Sunday after hearing a report on conditions. Anderson, however, demanded that the game be forfeited to the Tigers. He argued that under baseball's rules, a game can only be postponed due to an act of God, and that, as the home team, the White Sox were responsible for field conditions. The next day, MacPhail forfeited the second game to the Tigers 9–0.[2] In a ruling that largely upheld Anderson's arguments, MacPhail stated that the White Sox had failed to provide acceptable playing conditions. The day after the event, Dahl began his regular morning broadcast by reading the indignant headlines in the local papers. He mocked the coverage, "I think for the most part everything was wonderful. Some maniac Cohos got wild, went down on the field. Which you shouldn't have done. Bad little Cohos." Tigers manager Anderson stated of the events, "Beer and baseball go together, they have for years. But I think those kids were doing things other than beer."[6] Columnist David Israel of the Chicago Tribune commented on July 12 that he was not surprised by what had occurred, "It would have happened any place 50,000 teenagers got together on a sultry summer night with beer and reefer." White Sox pitcher Rich Wortham, a Texan, suggested, "This wouldn't have happened if they had country and western night." Looking back............ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I1CP1751wJA
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Escape while you can!
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