I remember seeing Bill Veeck camped out in the leftfield bleachers at Wrigley Field, in the mid-1980’s - shirtless - had to be pushing 80 at that point - I don’t recall him wearing a Bleacher Bum hard hat, but those had been retired years earlier.
From what I understand, the original hard hats were regulation-grade, and they were often hung across the street at Ray's (now Murphy's Bleachers) when not in use. There was also some kind of dimorphism going on because a lot of the women in the group wore yellow ponchos or raincoats, apparently those were another gift from the Cubs organization.
Even after the group became less prominent, a lot of their ethos remained in the outfield stands, and I'm sure Veeck would have felt right at home there, at least until the re-build. Assigned seats were the death rattle, I think.
"Once, late in the season, the third baseman (Ron Santo) walked out to left field on a bad knee to inform the left field fans he wouldn’t be starting that day because of said bad knee and that he was sorry."
Ronnie would always insist this was the most special relationship between the fans and players in modern baseball history and thus far I have found no equal. There was a closeness (physical and psychological) between some of these players and the Bums that has shaped Cub fandom for the subsequent half-century.
I remember seeing Bill Veeck camped out in the leftfield bleachers at Wrigley Field, in the mid-1980’s - shirtless - had to be pushing 80 at that point - I don’t recall him wearing a Bleacher Bum hard hat, but those had been retired years earlier.
From what I understand, the original hard hats were regulation-grade, and they were often hung across the street at Ray's (now Murphy's Bleachers) when not in use. There was also some kind of dimorphism going on because a lot of the women in the group wore yellow ponchos or raincoats, apparently those were another gift from the Cubs organization.
Even after the group became less prominent, a lot of their ethos remained in the outfield stands, and I'm sure Veeck would have felt right at home there, at least until the re-build. Assigned seats were the death rattle, I think.
My favorite part of this great story:
"Once, late in the season, the third baseman (Ron Santo) walked out to left field on a bad knee to inform the left field fans he wouldn’t be starting that day because of said bad knee and that he was sorry."
Gosh, ya just gotta love baseball!
Ronnie would always insist this was the most special relationship between the fans and players in modern baseball history and thus far I have found no equal. There was a closeness (physical and psychological) between some of these players and the Bums that has shaped Cub fandom for the subsequent half-century.