Five Ballpark Promotions That Went Wrong

5teamparlay · Jul 25, 2007

from mentalfloss.com

Five Ballpark Promotions That Went Wrong
by InternJason - July 24, 2007 - 7:25 AM

I may be a die-hard Cleveland Indians fan, but that doesn’t mean I’ll go to the ballpark just for the games. I often choose what tickets I buy based on the promotions. So far this season I’ve bought tickets to fireworks night, half-price college ID night and dollar dog night. While I always enjoy my free flashlight or bobblehead, there have been some fan promotions that didn’t go so well. Here’s a look at five that failed:

Cleveland Municipal Stadium, 1974
The Promotion: 10-Cent Beer Night. To bring fans to see the miserable Cleveland Indians, management decided to sell 10-ounce cups of beer for only 10 cents at a game against the Texas Rangers.
What went wrong: Management forgot one small detail: drunk people get restless. More than 25,000 fans showed up for the event, most of them already tipsy at the gate. Among the more tame incidents was a woman who flashed the crowd from the on-deck circle, a father-son team mooning the players (good bonding experience, I guess) and fans jumping on the field to meet shake hands with the outfielders. Then, in the bottom of the ninth, the Indians tied the game, but never got a chance to win. Fans started throwing batteries, golf balls, cups and rocks onto the field and one even took the glove of the Rangers right fielder. As the player rushed into the stands to get his glove back, fans starting swarming the field to stop him and threw chairs to block his way.
The Outcome: The Indians were forced to forfeit the game and nine fans were arrested. The AL president forced the franchise to abandon the promotion idea after understating “There was no question that beer played a great part in the affair.”
Cash drop night, All-you-can-eat seat night, and more bad ideas after the break.

Comiskey Park, 1979
The Promotion: Disco Demolition Night. White Sox fans were encouraged to bring old disco records to the park in exchange for a reduced admission price of 98 cents. The records were to be destroyed in between the two games of a doubleheader against the Detroit Tigers.
What went wrong: Believe it or not, a lot of people wanted to see disco records destroyed. 50,000 people showed up at the gates and many who were turned away at the gate tried to climb the walls of the stadium to get in. The crowd, who were reportedly heavily under the influence, soon realized that records could double as Frisbees, which naturally led to fans throwing firecrackers and drinks. When the demolition moment came, the explosion was bigger than expected and ended up ripping a hole in the outfield grass. Thousands of fans ran onto the field to join the mayhem, burning banners and throwing objects. The batting cages were even destroyed in the riot.
The outcome: The Tigers refused to take the field, forcing the White Sox to forfeit the game. The quick patch job on the outfield left the grass uneven and players complained about it for the rest of the season.
Dodger Stadium, 1995
The Promotion: Ball Night. Fans entering the game were given a souvenir baseball.
What went wrong: Turns out baseballs are pretty convenient things to throw. In the seventh inning, fans threw balls at an opposing outfielder when he bobbled a play. The real drama happened in the bottom of the ninth, though. Dodger Raul Mondesi and manager Tommy Lasorda were ejected for arguing a strikeout call, inspiring about 200 fans to throw their promotional balls onto the field. The umps urged the Cardinals to stay on the field, but finally decided to end the game after more fans decided to contribute their gifts to the game.
The Outcome: The Dodgers were forced to forfeit the game, the first forfeit in the National League in 41 years.

Fifth Third Ballpark, 2006
The Promotion: Cash Drop. The West Michigan Whitecaps, Detroit’s class-A affiliate, had a helicopter drop $1,000 in various bills from a helicopter after a game.
What went wrong: People love money more than they love other people. Two children were injured scrambling for the cash. A girl received a bloody lip being pushed to the ground, while a seven-year-old boy was bruised when he got trampled in the fray.
The Outcome: The boy was taken to the hospital, but released after treatment. The team management summed up the incident by reminding everyone that they had signed waivers.
Dodger Stadium, 2007
The Promotions: All-you-can-eat seats. Undoing the work of Shaq and Cookie Monster, the Dodgers decided to promote obesity by opening up a section of all-you-can-eat seats. Although beer, ice cream and candy are still for sale, most food is just given away. Ticket prices range from $20-$40.
What went wrong: Not everybody can handle an open buffet of hot dogs and nachos. One Slate reporter wrote about his experience in the seats, which predictably ended in vomit. I can only imagine that countless other fans have had their evenings end in a similar way.
The Outcome: Despite the upchucking, the seats remain open and usually draw between 2,000 and 4,000 fans a night. In fact, the Dodgers have declared the promotion a success and have reached the second-highest attendance in baseball. Other stadiums have contacted the Dodgers about copying the idea.

Presto · Jul 25, 2007

Didn't the Padres have some controversy lately with gay day and kids day?

scottw · Jul 25, 2007

Reminds me of the line from BASEKETBALL"

"Oh, what a TERRIBLE thing to happen on dozen egg night!"

mike0187 · Jul 25, 2007

lol, 10 cent beer night what an awful idea....and blowing up shit in the outfield in-between games, brilliant as well

Brock Landers · Jul 25, 2007

LOL

Good stuff!

I grew up just south of Chicago and remember some of the disco demolition night, was about 5 at the time.

But i have seen a good show about it years later, what a fiasco! Biggest crowds the sox saw all year though, their attendance then was pathetic.

WVU · Jul 25, 2007

Someone had commemorative golf ball day too. I forget who it was, but they were littered all over the field.

earl · Jul 25, 2007

im thinkin 20,000 baseball's (or baseball bats) in the stands is not a good idea.

ivyconniver · Jul 25, 2007

I remember going to Bat Day at Yankee Stadium as a real young kid, and getting a full size louisville slugger along with about 20,000 other kids. There is a cool picture in the 7th inning stretch when everyone in the stadium holds the bat up at the same time. They changed it to miniature bat day after opposing fans started getting the shit clubbed out of them in the bathrooms.

tooran · Jul 25, 2007

I always knew that the "Hard Liquor & Handgun" night was a bad idea in Detroit, can't believe they tried that one.

pinom · Jul 25, 2007

I can easily see where those promotions can go wrong. Makes
for good stories though. thanks for sharing.

5teamparlay · Mar 7, 2008

Dodger Stadium, 2007
The Promotions: All-you-can-eat seats. Undoing the work of Shaq and Cookie Monster, the Dodgers decided to promote obesity by opening up a section of all-you-can-eat seats. Although beer, ice cream and candy are still for sale, most food is just given away. Ticket prices range from $20-$40.
What went wrong: Not everybody can handle an open buffet of hot dogs and nachos. One Slate reporter wrote about his experience in the seats, which predictably ended in vomit. I can only imagine that countless other fans have had their evenings end in a similar way.
The Outcome: Despite the upchucking, the seats remain open and usually draw between 2,000 and 4,000 fans a night. In fact, the Dodgers have declared the promotion a success and have reached the second-highest attendance in baseball. Other stadiums have contacted the Dodgers about copying the idea.

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tHIS ONE IS CATCHING ON: 13x

<TABLE id=topTools cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 border=0><TBODY><TR><TD>Eating away the innings in baseball's cheap seats</TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
By Michael McCarthy, USA TODAY
Baseball and gluttony, two of America's favorite pastimes, are merging in a controversial trend taking hold at Major League Baseball stadiums across the nation: all-you-can-eat seats.
Fans in these diet-busting sections, for a fixed price usually ranging from $30 to $55, are able to gorge on as many hot dogs, nachos, peanuts and soft drinks as they can stomach. Some teams charge extra for beer, desserts and candy.

MORE TEAMS: All-you-can-eat seats for 2008
At least 13 of the 30 major league teams are offering all-you-can-eat seats for all or part of the 2008 season, up from six last year. Some of the teams that offered them last season are expanding their all-you-can-eat sections this season.
All-you-can-eat seats, usually in distant bleacher or upper-deck sections, are allowing teams to squeeze revenue out of parts of ballparks that used to sit empty game after game, team officials say.
"We're getting rid of (tickets) and making the public happy" by offering them a way to save money, says Andrew Silverman, executive vice president of sales and marketing for the Texas Rangers. The Rangers saw sales of 616 seats in their stadium's left-field corner take off last year after the seats were designated as all-you-can-eat areas.

Silverman says the Rangers will offer nearly 1,100 all-you-can-eat seats at 48 of the team's 81 home games this year.
The seats are drawing criticism from diet and health specialists who say they are symbols of binge eating, supersized fast food and poor nutrition. At a time when the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reports the USA is in the grip of an obesity crisis with 1 in 3 adults obese, the idea of setting aside places for fans to gorge on high-fat foods is irresponsible, many specialists say.
"It's disgusting," says Christine Gerbstadt, a registered dietitian and national spokeswoman for the American Dietetic Association (ADA). "Why can't people just enjoy the game and eat sensibly?"
Mark Tilson, vice president of sales and marketing for the Kansas City Royals, says it's up to fans to eat responsibly.
"We're not making anybody purchase these seats, or eat seven hot dogs," says Tilson, whose team has 500 seats in its all-you-can-eat section. "We saw plenty of healthy families enjoying it responsibly."
He acknowledges that some fans try to "set personal records" during their first game in the section. By their second or third time in such seats, Tilson says, they eat like they normally would at a game.
For regular fans who have seen teams cater to higher-end clientele with luxury suites and premium seating areas featuring exclusive eating areas or wait service, all-you-can-eat sections represent a grittier, cheaper way to eat at will.
"What attracted me was eating as much as I could," says Toney Fernandez, 20, of Harbor City, Calif., but "then I got hooked by the whole atmosphere: Everybody's friendly and having a good time." He says he went to five games in the Los Angeles Dodgers' section last year and plans to attend 10 games there this season.
Throughout Major League Baseball, the impact of all-you-can-eat sections is becoming clear.
Before last season, the Dodgers didn't open their right-field bleacher pavilion unless the left-field bleachers sold out. Then they began offering 3,300 right-field bleacher seats with unlimited Dodger Dogs, nachos, peanuts, popcorn, soft drinks and water. The section averaged 2,200 fans a game last season — and sold out for one-third of the team's home games.
Before the unlimited food and drink, such seats sold for $6 or $8, if they sold at all. Now, they go for $35 in advance and $40 for game-day tickets. A ticket to a major league game cost an average of $22.77 last season, according to Team Marketing Report.
For Dodgers fans who might have bought a regular bleacher seat in past years and then purchased a hot dog, nachos, peanuts, popcorn and a soda, all-you-can-eat sections could save them $5 or so — and more if they keep eating.
"What's the old saying? A hot dog at the ballpark is better than a steak at the Ritz," says Dodgers chief marketing officer Charles Steinberg, who won't discuss the precise impact the all-you-can-eat seats have had on team revenue.
Among the clubs with all-you-can-eat seats for the first time this year: the Oakland Athletics, Pittsburgh Pirates, Toronto Blue Jays, San Diego Padres, Florida Marlins, Tampa Bay Rays and Arizona Diamondbacks. Besides the Dodgers, Rangers and Royals, those offering them for at least part of last season were the St. Louis Cardinals, Atlanta Braves and Baltimore Orioles.
Ticketholders usually are issued colored wristbands. Special concession stands start dishing out goodies 90 minutes before the first pitch and don't quit until the seventh inning.
Because the food and drink often is self-serve, voracious fans totter back to their seats with as much as they can carry. With little or no money changing hands, lines move quickly. To stop bracelet-wearers from supplying other rows of fans with food, some teams limit fans to four to six items a visit.
The Dodgers operate the biggest section; the Braves seem to have the fanciest menu. It includes beer, for $65 a seat. The Cardinals have the most sections: 10 all-you-can-eat buffets, plus beer, for $65-$200 a game. The Diamondbacks are creating the most expensive section at their park, Chase Field. Their 72 seats run $75 a game. But fans have to buy them as a season ticket, So the cost is $6,075 a seat.
Not everyone's a fan. Author Neal Pollack calls all-you-can-eat seats "the worst American culture can offer." He says he sat in the Dodgers' section last year and it "was a gluttonous orgy of stupidity.
"The smell … was unbearable," Pollack recalls. "By the end of the game, it was like sitting in a sewer."
Teams emphasize that such seats can help budget-conscious fans — families, teens, college students and office groups — save money at a time when many fans have complained about the rising costs of attending major league games.
'It's like a rite of passage'
It's no coincidence that the Marlins, Rays, Royals, Pirates and A's are among those either adding all-you-can-eat seats or expanding such sections this season.
Those teams drew the fewest home fans in the majors last season. They see free-flowing food and drink as a way to get people into their stadiums.
After drawing 1.37 million fans at home in 2007, the worst in the majors, the Marlins are creating a 400-seat section along the third-base line of Dolphin Stadium.
The Rays, with the second-lowest home attendance, will test a 500- to 700-seat area for groups of 20 at Tropicana Field, spokeswoman Carmen Molina says.
The Pirates, with the fourth-lowest attendance, have high hopes for their new 164-seat section at PNC Park, team President Frank Coonelly says. He predicts the concept will attract budget-conscious parents.
"As a parent of four kids, I remember that every inning it seemed they would like a hot dog or popcorn," he says. "Either I would have to say 'no' and deal with them whining or head back out to the concession stand."
For the Cardinals, formerly owned by the beer-making Busch family in a city where breweries are a source of pride, the decision to offer beer in all-you-can-eat packages isn't surprising.
It's a delicate subject, however. Last year, manager Tony La Russa pleaded guilty to driving under the influence and pitcher Josh Hancock was killed in an alcohol-related car accident.
Michael Hall, the team's group sales director, says the team didn't have any significant problems with alcohol in the sections last season. "These areas are controlled," he says. "If we recognize people are not drinking responsibly, we won't continue the service." Major League Baseball stadiums stop serving beer at the end of the seventh inning.
Meanwhile, many baseball fans embraced all-you-can-eat seats with gusto last season:
• At the Braves' Turner Field, some fans had hot dog eating contests, says Derek Schiller, executive vice president of sales and marketing. "It's like a rite of passage. You buy your ticket and figure out how many hot dogs and nachos you can eat."
• The Royals tout their section with the slogan "Eat, drink and be merry!" At one game, a teenage boy scarfed down a dozen hot dogs, nachos and a couple of bags of peanuts. The feat was so impressive, he was interviewed on the game's TV broadcast, Tilson recalls. Then there was the pregnant woman who bought the seats because she was craving ballpark food. "She just went to town," Tilson says.
• At Oriole Park at Camden Yards, there were father-son hot dog eating contests while college kids competed to eat the most nachos, says team spokesman Greg Bader. The team is enlarging its all-you-can-eat section to 1,300 seats this season, up from 800 last year.
How much is too much?
So how much food do fans in these seats consume?
Ron Ranieri, general manager of concessionaire Aramark at Atlanta's Turner Field, calculates that a typical all-you-can-eat customer downed: 3.35 hot dogs; one 20-ounce soda; one 7.9-ounce bag of peanuts; one 3-ounce order of nachos and 32 ounces of popcorn.
Those numbers are "insane," the ADA's Gerbstadt says. They equate to more than three times the daily recommended calories and carbohydrates, four times the saturated fat and sodium, and seven times the fat suggested by the Agriculture Department's 2005 diet guidelines.
That's not counting the beer and desserts many fans also polish off. Those who eat even close to such amounts on a semi-regular basis, Gerbstadt says, are at added risk for heart disease, diabetes, stroke, cancer and erectile dysfunction.
"This is something you do once in a lifetime, and pray you don't get a heart attack," she says. "They're eating the equivalent of four days of food, or twice what the average person eats on Thanksgiving Day. I hope these people have tons of Pepto-Bismol."
Fan consumption was "not excessive," the Braves' Schiller says. There's a difference between people who patronize unlimited buffets at restaurants and those who try it at the ballpark, he adds. "People go to those places because they're hungry. The primary reason for coming to Turner Field, even with all-you-can-eat, is baseball."
The Pirates' Coonelly notes the team offers all-you-can-eat salads in its new section.
The A's offer salads, fruit cups and garden burgers at other stands for fans who want healthier food.
"Eating one extra hot dog won't be the source of health issues in the U.S.," says Jim Leahey, the A's vice president for sales and marketing. "We recognize there's certain fans who are vegetarian and want healthy alternatives. We have 35,000 seats. If the 1,000 (all-you-can-eat) seats don't appeal to you, we have plenty of alternatives."
Does the idea of an all-you-can-eat section appeal to you or repulse you? If you've sat in one of these sections before, how much did you consume? Share your thoughts below.

arniesarmy · Mar 8, 2008

I remember Disco Demolition night in Chicago. I had just graduated from college, didn't have a job, and a high school buddy of mine wanted to go to Atlantic City because he thought he could count cards and beat blackjack. He was smart enough to do it. Me and another buddy--who also didn't have a job out of college--decided to go along. Well, it lasted about four days before my one buddy figured counting cards wasn't as easy as he thought. So we drive back to Wisconsin and we're getting into Chicago in the wee hours. On the radio is Steve Dahl, a famous DJ in Chicago whose station sponsored Disco Demolition. We had no idea what had gone on, but Dahl--who was still obviously drunk--was hoarsely describing going back into the press box from the field after blowing up the records, and seeing a TV screen. He said he thought it was a WWII clip, before realizing it was a live shot on what was going on on the field.
"I can't help it if you cohos can't control your buzz," he said. God, that was funny.

FairWarning · Mar 8, 2008

Disco Demolition Night was the BEST promotion.

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White Sox and Cubs both sucked in the late 70's, but you gotta love Bill Veeck.

quantumleap · Mar 8, 2008

FairWarning said:
Disco Demolition Night was the BEST promotion.

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White Sox and Cubs both sucked in the late 70's, but you gotta love Bill Veeck.

I agree. I think Bill Veeck had several interesting promotions. Let me see if I can find more.

HisIsTheHand · Mar 8, 2008

FairWarning said:
Disco Demolition Night was the BEST promotion.

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White Sox and Cubs both sucked in the late 70's, but you gotta love Bill Veeck.

Jimmy Piersall and a drunk Harry Caray

What a duo!

barman · Mar 8, 2008

The 10cent Beer Night in Cleveland was embraced with open arms by then Texas Ranger Billy Martin - who later in life would be called Out by God while sliding into a tree on a frozen winter street.

FairWarning · Mar 8, 2008

Remember many days after Veeck sold for the final time sitting in the Wrigley Field bleachers.

Wednesday, November 19, 2003
Baseball's showman
[FONT=arial, geneva]By Nick Acocella[/FONT]
[FONT=arial, geneva]Special to ESPN.com[/FONT]

"Bill Veeck was born on the right side of the tracks. And as soon as he was capable, dragged himself to the other side," says Mike Veeck with a laugh about his father, the maverick Hall of Fame baseball owner, on ESPN Classic's SportsCentury series.
Just as he predicted, Bill Veeck, for all his accomplishments, is best remembered as the guy who sent a midget to the plate. And yet, Eddie Gaedel's lone major league appearance, while the most famous of Veeck's stunts, may not even have been his most bizarre. And it hardly ranks among his significant contributions to the game.
Far more important were his innovations in the financial operations of his various franchises -- almost all of them initially deplored by other owners. In stints with the Cleveland Indians, St. Louis Browns and Chicago White Sox (twice) between 1946 and 1980, Veeck was the last person to purchase a major league team without an independent fortune.
Born on Feb. 9, 1914, in Chicago, Veeck grew up in the suburb of Hinsdale. When Bill was four, his father, sportswriter William Veeck Sr., became president of the Chicago Cubs. By the time he was 11, Bill was working as a vendor, ticket seller and junior groundskeeper. When his father died in 1933, Veeck left Kenyon College to work for the Cubs, rising to club treasurer. In 1935, he married Eleanore Raymond.
He left Chicago in 1941 when he bought the financially-troubled American Association Milwaukee franchise in partnership with Charlie Grimm. Arriving in Milwaukee with $11 in his pocket, Veeck turned his promotional genius loose. He gave away live animals and birds and a 200-pound block of ice, scheduled morning games for night-shift workers, staged weddings at home plate and presented manager Grimm with a birthday cake out of which popped a much needed southpaw pitcher.
After Milwaukee won three pennants in five years, Veeck sold the franchise for a $275,000 profit in 1945.
While still a half-owner of the Brewers, Veeck spent almost three years in the Marines during World War II. An accident cost him his right foot and, even after 36 operations over the rest of his life, his leg as well.
Before entering the military, Veeck secured backing to buy the Philadelphia Phillies in 1942. His revolutionary plan was to stock the club with Negro League stars. His mistake was revealing his plans to Commissioner Kenesaw Landis, who rejected the idea.
When the "Sport Shirt," as he came to be known for his favorite attire, finally reached the majors - with the Indians in 1946 - he did it with a creative bit of financing. He used a debenture-common stock group that made remuneration to the partners non-taxable loan payments rather than taxable income.
He broke new ground of a different sort by signing Larry Doby in 1947 to be the first African-American player in the American League and 42-year-old Satchel Paige in 1948 as the oldest rookie in major league history.
Veeck almost lost the goodwill he had accumulated when he tried to trade popular shortstop-manger Lou Boudreau to the Browns. When word of the negotiations got out, there were protests and petitions in support of Boudreau. In response, Veeck went from bar to bar in Cleveland to admit he had made a mistake and announce personally that the deal was off.
Boudreau rewarded his boss and the fans in 1948 when Cleveland won its first pennant and World Series since 1920.
Among Veeck's more popular stunts in Cleveland were the ceremonial burial of the 1948 flag after it became apparent that the team could not repeat in 1949 and "Good Old Joe Earley Night," staged for a fan who complained that Veeck was honoring everyone but the average "Joe."
After selling his shares in Cleveland to settle his obligations from an expensive divorce, Veeck reemerged as the owner of the Browns in 1951, a year after marrying Mary Frances Ackerman. Expressing a desire to drive the Cardinals out of town, Veeck succeeded merely in annoying Cardinals owner Fred Saigh by hiring former Cardinal stars Rogers Hornsby and Marty Marion as managers (as well as Dizzy Dean as an announcer). He also decorated Sportsman's Park, which the Browns owned but which both teams shared, with Brownie memorabilia.
The Gaedel gimmick took place on Aug. 19, 1951, and was followed five days later by "Grandstand Manager's Day," perhaps Veeck's most elaborate stunt. With himself, former Philadelphia Athletics manager Connie Mack, and thousands of fans holding placards that said yes on one side and no on the other, publicity director Bob Fischel held up cards with proposed moves - steal, bunt, change pitchers - to which the grandstand managers flashed their opinions.
While manager Zack Taylor puffed a pipe and relaxed in a rocking chair, the fans called an excellent game: The Browns won, 5-3, to stop a four-game losing streak.
The end of the Browns began after the 1952 season with a Veeck suggestion that American League clubs share radio and television revenue with visiting clubs. Voted down 7-1, he refused to allow broadcasts of games when the Browns were on the road. The rest of the league retaliated by eliminating lucrative Friday night games in St. Louis. Then, when Saigh sold the Cardinals to Anheuser-Busch breweries with its unlimited resources, Veeck realized he had to move his franchise.
And the only way that would happen would be if Veeck sold the team, which he did. The franchise then moved to Baltimore.
In 1959, Veeck popped up as head of a syndicate that bought a controlling interest in the White Sox, who won their first pennant in 40 years as well as establishing a team home-attendance record with 1.4 million. They broke that mark with 1.6 million the following season when Veeck installed the first exploding scoreboard in the majors. The ostentatious 130-foot scoreboard in Comiskey Park produced fireworks, sound effects and 10 electric pinwheels; all went off after White Sox homers.
Poor health forced Veeck to sell his share of the team in 1961. But 14 years later, Veeck reappeared as White Sox owner. Showing that he hadn't lost his touch for irritating other owners, Veeck and general manager Rollie Hemond set up shop in a hotel lobby and made four trades in full view of passers-by.
Two weeks later, arbitrator Peter Seitz ruled in the Messersmith-McNally case and ushered in the age of free agency. Though the cards were stacked in favor of richer owners, Veeck still hung on for five more seasons.
During this period, Veeck's most creative gimmick was a Bicentennial-inspired Spirit of '76 parade on Opening Day 1976 - with himself as the peg-legged fifer. His "rent-a-player" scheme for taking other clubs' stars in their option years helped the White Sox win 90 games and finish third in 1977 behind leased sluggers Richie Zisk and Oscar Gamble.
In 1976, Veeck reactivated 54-year-old Minnie Minoso for eight at-bats, so Minoso could say he had played in four decades. Four years later, he again reactivated Minoso, who went 0-for-2 but could say he had played in five decades.
Veeck's longest surviving idea was having announcer Harry Caray sing "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" during the seventh-inning stretch. His most copied idea was having players take curtain calls after homering. His least copied idea was putting his players in short pants.
And the worst idea was Disco Demolition Night. On June 12, 1979, a disc jockey's plan to explode disco records between games of a doubleheader resulted in thousands of fans jumping onto the field, policemen futilely trying to restore order and the umpires postponing the second game. The next day, the Tigers got the victory via forfeit.
Finally giving up, Veeck sold the White Sox in January 1981. He spent much of his final years sitting in the Wrigley Field bleachers, enjoying the sunshine, the baseball and the ivy on the outfield walls he is alleged to have planted.
Veeck died at 72 of cancer on Jan. 2, 1986. Five years later, he was elected into the Hall of Fame.

FairWarning · Mar 8, 2008

BadCo · Mar 8, 2008

I remember the S.F. Giants promoting come out and hate the Dodgers.

Dodger Giant series always was a classic in the stands at the Stick anyway.

So after a series of violence there was a political cartoon where a guy says:

OK so I guess the Charles Bronson night was a bad idea.