Alright so yesterday I got obsessed with this idea – can you really shove a football field into Wrigley? Grabbed my coffee and notebook and headed straight for the ballpark at like 7 AM. Talked my way past security by flashing an old press pass from a Cubs game years back. Worth a shot right?
First Impressions Were Rough
Started pacing off the dimensions near the famous ivy wall. Dropped a tape measure near home plate and instantly saw the problem. This place is tiny! Barely squeezed an NFL sideline between the dugout and that brick wall. Imagined linebackers smashing into the bullpen doors mid-tackle. Cold wind whipping through the upper deck almost blew my notes into left field.
Got weird looks from groundskeepers while I sketched end zones:
- North endzone disappears under the bleachers – feels like playing in a cave
- South endzone practically kisses the outfield wall – two steps and BAM
- West sideline – players would sit on folding chairs in freaking foul territory
The Money Pit
Later met Joe from the Bears facilities team. Dude brought blueprints over lukewarm stadium hot dogs. Watched him slap the papers with gravy-stained fingers: “See this corner?” Told me they spent $400k just moving ONE camera platform last time. Took three weeks to paint temporary lines that faded by halftime. Laughed when we calculated how many seats disappear because of the angled grandstand.
Game Day Disaster Zone
Stayed for a youth game just before dark. Watched teenagers get tangled in coach’s legs along the cramped sideline. Beer vendor blocked half an aisle near the third base line. Third quarter a quarterback overthrew into Section 203 – ball ricocheted off an aluminum bench like a pinball. Even drunk fans complained they couldn’t see over players’ helmets from the front rows. Drank three overpriced beers just to tolerate the chaos.
Why Do They Even Bother?
As I packed up, found two rusty nails near the makeshift field goal post. That’s when Joe dropped the truth: “We only do this crap for the TV cameras and nostalgia money.” He kicked the base of the bleachers. “Three guys twisted ankles on this concrete lip during the ’21 game. Turf guys quit after the third overtime game ripped up the grass.” Walked out past the marquee feeling like I’d uncovered some dirty secret.
Final Verdict?
It’s like trying to park a monster truck in a bike lane. Looks cool in photos until you realize the driver’s side door opens into traffic. Wasted $28 on a “FIELDHOUSE” sweatshirt that now smells like stale peanuts and regret. Should’ve just watched the damn tape instead.
Yeah they’ll keep doing it. Yeah it’s terrible. Don’t @ me.
