The Eyes of Texas are upon Chicago
Coming through the speakers: John Lee Hooker for a Chicago trip!On the nightstand: The Gospel of Wealth by Andrew Carnegie. He had problems I don't foresee encountering in my life.
“What are your feelings on sleeves?”With the sun shining down on Chicago, my sleeves became an afterthought for a weekend.There would be 10 of us, at least one of us sleeveless. We were in town for Texas vs Notre Dame. Throw in a Cubs baseball game for good effect.Our apartment: a bachelor pad with a patio overlooking Wrigley Field. With the smell of pizza continuously wafting up from the joint downstairs, it was the kind of place 20 year olds would wax poetically on as they cruised through college.A group of us arrived before the proverbial shit show got into town. We got in a touch of Chicago culture with the architecture tour and a warm-up beer (or three) on the river. It segued nicely into a round at the batting cages(!) in the local bar.
The bus for Notre Dame left Saturday morning at 11:00am. Ed, who booked the bus, told us it left at 10:00am. Smart move on his part. Halfway through the trip, Clint looked up at me as I handed him a beer. “Suns out, guns out,” he said. He knew what hid under my hoodie. The ripped sleeve polo made its debut as the middle aged crowd on the bus cheered. It would be the biggest cheer for Texas all day.
We arrived on the Notre Dame campus early enough to see the sights. Touchdown Jesus. The Main Building. Bascilica of the Sacred Heart. Bratwurst from a student club. And plenty of burnt orange. I felt a pit of revulsion upon seeing it. Texas did me bad and I hadn’t forgotten that. With those friends around me though, it was hard to stay negative.Somehow, someway, everyone ended up with a face-value ticket to a game that was going for $500+ on the reseller market. Travis and I sat in the corner of the endzone. The Notre Dame band played. I smiled. That sound, with the band and the cheers and the students and kids being flung into the air, it’s an atmosphere that rivals any sporting competition. Unfortunately, the atmosphere remained a little too festive for Texas fans. They ended up on the wrong end of a 38-3 drubbing.
After singing the Eyes, I discussed the impending negative situation facing our return trip on the bus: We were out of beer. The nearest beer store was on the other side of campus. With 45 minutes until the bus left, I’d have to hustle. Travis handed me $20. “Don’t let the bus leave without me,” I yelled as I ran down the stadium stairs. I was “on a mission from God.”Two cases of beer is heavy. The whiskey traveler didn’t help. As the cardboard beer cases disintegrated in my hands, I saw a glimmer of hope. A pedicab, with motor and boombox. “Where we going man?” “This way,” I yelled as we took off into the night. With two minutes to spare, I triumphantly stepped onto the bus, two beers lighter after tipping the pedicab driver extra well. “You guys wouldn’t believe what I went through to get this.” They never did hear about the walk or the broken beer case handles or the Texas fan in the bushes who was wearing his belt outside of the loops or the bike's broken spokes during an off-road adventure.Sunday led into game day part 2: Chicago Cubs vs … I don’t even remember. I’m not much of a baseball fan. Regardless, the sun shined down on my sleeveless arms as we watched the the Cubs win from the bleachers!
Deep dish pizza. Drinks on the roof. And suddenly, sadly, (“thankfully,” according to the liver), the trip was over. I laughed and I smiled and I laughed some more in complete absolute grateful appreciation of the rag tag group of guys I call friends.