Yesterday is all coming back to me.
After some admittedly nervous anticipation, I made it down to 35th and Shields around 6:15. Yes, I was informed, I was in the right place. Cheat and e-gus greeted me almost immediately, restraining themselves from sending me to some distant lot in search of the "real" SSS meet-up. I proceeded to quickly down four Burning Rivers while lightly mingling with the fine folks that make up this site. Drinking, eating, and trivia-question-answering ensued before hsa finally loosened her stranglehold on our precious tickets and we could, with her great blessing, enter our cathedral.
The whole group took up about five rows of our section on the left field line. Not too much trouble was afoot, and we weren't too rowdy or rambunctious. Remember, this was a pleasant family night. Everyone was very well-mannered; I was drunk, but I think I recall even larry smiling at one point. It's kind of hazy. Highlights included everyone cheering for Mark Kotsay (no joke!) and chanting for Sergio when he came out of the pen. Attending games with knowledgeable Sox fans is fun!
Then the fireworks went off, over a fog-covered outfield. Awesome. A White Sox winnah (Blackhawks, too!) under our belts, it seemed time to completely open the faucets. TAeG, Dr. Emilio Lizardo and I considered starting a Komedy Korner, or at least a witty retort fanshot. Security attempted to stifle our fun by kicking us out of the lot, prompting many characters to leave, but a small core of us continued on. Cheat totally invited himself to sleep on my couch, meaning we would continue drinking near my place. Where Cheat goes, people follow, and we soon made it to Whirlaway, on Fullerton near Kedzie in Logan Square. LT_sox_fan wouldn't go easily, though, being caught with a beer on the Red Line platform by the CPD, and 15 minutes later drunkenly hitting on a random Blue Line rider. To his credit, I remember her graciously accepting his drool and being fairly attractive.
Okay, here's where it gets dreamy/disgusting: So you guys know, Whirlaway is my favorite bar of all time. Maria, the bartender, is like a second mother to me. I've met tons of good people, cried in my beer plenty of times and made an assload of great memories there. It's my Cheers. So the fact that my new internet family AND my bar family were combined... holy crap, guys, it was awesome. I'm so damn happy that, what, like 12 of you made the trip all the way up there. Not so awesome: Cip looking too drunk (and likely being one of the more sober of us), and Maria refusing service. By the time I was able to talk her into putting Cip in my protective custody (and get him a damn beer) he and pierzynskirules had fled(!). This should not have happened, Cip, and when I see you again I'll make it up to you. Maria had likely been dealing with a large drunken Hawks crowd, made drunker by overtime, not an hour before we arrived. Anyway.
Eventually everyone trickled out, leaving just me and Cheat and a couple of bar regulars to close the place down, Cheat sipping his glass of water. Pfft. Then we made it back to my place, where he proceeded to drink all my milk, rape my dog, and vomit all over my area rug. But not really. We just watched some fuckin' Sportscenter. Want a SSS editor to sleep over? Write a knob-slobbing essay, invite yourself to a meth-up and get Schlitzed. How's that for sucking up to the editors, white stains?
In all seriousness, thanks a lot guys. What a great night.