Bears may move to Arlington? The suburbs are back, baby!
I can’t lie. For a while it was rough out here in the suburbs.
A bunch of companies abandoned us for the bright lights and gritty streets of Chicago, concluding their millennial workforce preferred Divvy bikes and ethically sourced matcha to GMC Yukons and Costco pizza. Beguiled by ex-Mayor Rahm Emanuel, McDonald’s, Motorola, Gogo and many others dumped us like a boomer with fresh hair plugs and a six-pack of Viagra.
Even sports franchises stuck it to us. The Chicago Sky left Rosemont for the Rahmdome — I mean, Wintrust Arena — in the South Loop. The Chicago Fire even paid $65 million to break the lease at their purpose-built stadium in Bridgeview so they could chase the skinny jeans crowd by moving to Soldier Field.
A soccer team tired of the suburbs. That’s like a fish tired of the ocean.
On and on it went. Chicago persuaded the state legislature to let it have a casino, crippling the prospects of gambling joints outside the city. Affluent young families converted North Side two-flats instead of building McMansions in a cornfield as the Good Lord intended.
It was grim, all right. But look at us now.
The pandemic has reminded city slickers there’s something to be said for not having people cough in your face on a packed CTA train, and that a backyard is a godsend when the mayor shuts down the parks.
Home prices are soaring from Wheaton to Worth. Developers can’t build apartments fast enough in suburban downtowns. New restaurants are blooming like geraniums in a window box.
Then, just Thursday, came the crowning glory: The Chicago Bears announced they might move to Arlington Heights.
Technically speaking, I guess, they just said they had submitted a bid for the Arlington International Racecourse property that will come open once the ponies have their final race in September. But we all know what’s going on.
The Bears are casting a covetous glance at a 326-acre parcel of revenue-spinning potential that lies near two interstate highways and a Metra station. They have no doubt learned from their NFL peers — and, for that matter, from the Chicago Cubs — that you can make a fortune when you own the property around your stadium.
They are clearly unhappy with Soldier Field, even after taxpayers shelled out hundreds of millions of dollars to top its proud Doric colonnades with a flying saucer. It’s small, as NFL stadiums go, it’s not particularly easy to get to, and without a roof it will never host a Super Bowl or a Final Four.
Worst of all, from the Bears’ perspective, they can’t build a bunch of condos, a gold-plated hotel or fancy restaurants nearby, as sports franchises from the Los Angeles Rams to the Milwaukee Bucks are already doing, because the stadium sits on public land.
In Arlington Heights, that kind of development would be possible. There’s even a hospital nearby for fans who guzzle a few too many pregame Fireball shots, and a courthouse across the street to handle those who square up with visiting Cheeseheads.
Chicago Mayor Lori Lightfoot, displaying her trademark diplomacy, issued a statement mocking the Bears’ on-field woes and dismissing the bid as a hoary negotiating tactic that’s being employed as the team presses for improvements at Soldier Field.
She might be right! Team owners do this all the time when there’s a dollar to be snatched from the public treasury or a zoning dispute to be won. Did anyone really think the Cubs were going to move to Rosemont back in 2013 if they didn’t get their jumbo video screen above the Wrigley Field bleachers?
But the amount of revenue at stake for the Bears makes this showdown feel different. If I were the mayor, I wouldn’t take much comfort in the team’s lease terms or count on the NFL rallying to the city’s defense. With enough money and lawyers, all barriers vanish.
In the end, Chicago might well cave. The city has a long record of allowing private interests to help themselves to public resources, whether it’s the lakefront, parking meters or the Chicago Skyway. Losing the city’s signature sports franchise to a suburban horse track would be a legacy no mayor could stomach.
And from the Bears’ side, who knows? The McCaskey family might decide they hate the idea of the Goodyear blimp showing a game day panorama of ranch houses and gas stations instead of the glorious lakefront.
As a die-hard suburbanite, though, I’d kind of love it. After years of being told our quarter-acre lots and oceans of free parking will be irrelevant in the high-density, Uber-ized future, this turnabout would feel like sweet payback. Sure, the traffic would be godawful and taxpayers undoubtedly would be stuck with a huge chunk of the tab, but those are worries for another day.
For now, it’s enough to picture all these bungalow babies who don’t know Northwest Highway from Northwestern University wandering among our split levels and strip malls. Ever so slowly, our discreet charm and lack of kiddie pool-sized potholes would win them over.
So if the Bears actually decamp for the suburbs, don’t be afraid to come on out, city folk. You have nothing to lose but your speed camera tickets.