The Wrigley Field rooftops
The first signs of fall are starting to creep in on a chilly September night as a mist falls and occasionally turns to light drizzle across Wrigleyville. The Cubs are in first place, and a roaring cheer of a crowd echos out onto Waveland Avenue, even though the stands at the Friendly Confines are empty.
“I can hear the crowd noise,” a woman sitting atop one of the Wrigley rooftops across from left field says to her friend sitting next to her. “Which is bizarre.”
“I’m just glad we don’t have the cardboard people,” the friend replies. “I really am.”
The banter continues.
“I didn’t mind the cardboard idea,” the woman says.
Replies her friend: “I don’t like the cardboard people; the cardboard people don’t move.”
A seat on top of these rooftops is one of the few in the country in which fans can get their fix of live baseball. PNC Park is visible from the Roberto Clemente Bridge in Pittsburgh. In D.C., a hotel rooftop has a view of Nationals Park. And San Diego’s Petco Park has a bar and restaurant that remains open to the public. Not all of Wrigley’s famed rooftops are open on this night, and the ones that are remain only at about half-capacity.
The security guard at the door checks everyone’s temperature upon arrival, and patrons are supposed to wear a mask or face covering when they’re not at their seats, a rule the staff says most people are respectful of. Every other row of seats is blocked off to limit capacity to approximately 50 people spread across two levels to see the game. Still, business has been slow this summer, forcing cuts to the staff. The atmosphere on most nights resembles more of an expensive, after-work happy hour. (Tickets sold for between $250$350, up from the usual $150-$300.)
“It’s just way different, the excitement’s not there,” said Aaron Mitchell, 35, of Lakeview. “It’s been hard to get into it, at home watching baseball on TV. It’s not the same, a big, loud bat and ball and no crowd, no reaction. Just a speaker system you know is fake.”
Even during a pandemic, the drive to continue sports is unrelenting.
Mitchell, who grew up in Kentucky, became a Cubs fan by watching the team on WGN, a familiar story across the country. He lives in Atlanta and has a condo in Chicago and usually he brings his 11-year old son with him to watch games. But during this visit to Chicago, he figured he would try to see his team live.
“It’s the only way I can see a live game right now,” he said, staring into the empty stands. “Don’t quite understand why we got a big old stadium and they can’t fit at least 10 or 15% in there. Same ordeal, the way this is going.”