(670 The Score) On Thursday evening, the White Sox will recognize the fateful Disco Demolition Night of July 12, 1979 by handing out commemorative T-shirts.
It's a night I remember well. I was a snot-nosed kid just out of college who was sent to cover the twi-night doubleheader between the White Sox and Tigers at Comiskey Park. I was working at Sports Phone, which was the 976 number that people called to get the scores and headlines of the day. Little did I know that the event that I was at would be not only the headline of the day but also an infamous night that would be remembered forever.
Disco Demolition Night was billed as an event in which local disc jockey Steve Dahl would blow up a host of disco records in between games. That sounded innocent enough, but it turned out to be a disaster that reverberated through both Chicago and the baseball landscape.
Nobody -- including White Sox owner Bill Veeck -- expected such a large crowd at Old Comiskey that day. I was told after the fact by police on hand that upward of 55,000 people came to the park and many more were turned away. The gathering of so many meant the potential for trouble, and that's exactly what happened.
Dahl had asked his listeners to bring their disco records to the game. They were then to be gathered so he could literally blow them up in between games. At some point, the ushers and attendants could no longer keep pace in gathering the massive amount of records. With records in hand and many in an altered state, some fans started throwing the records on the field even as the first game was still being played.
For the record (pun not intended), the Tigers won the scheduled first game 4-1. After that, the demolition of the discos was set to begin.
Dahl was dressed in some sort of military garb, and he had all the records in a giant cardboard box in short center field. With some form of pyrotechnics, the records were blown to smithereens. What that also did was light the figurative fuse for what was next to come.
It wasn't long before a few fans decided to rush the field to join the festivities. That trickle of fans soon became a flood, as thousands descended on the field, going right by the outnumbered security.
It didn't take long before the field was trashed, as some fans ripped up the bases and started running off with them. Fires broke out on the field and also in the stands -- I still recall flames shooting out from the upper deck in right field. This was now a full-fledged riot, and a call must have been put in for more security and police to quickly get down there to try and alleviate the situation.
But it was too late. The field was torn up by the rowdy crowd. I remember later that the umpires and the two managers walked around the field after it was finally cleared, and it was ruled unplayable. The White Sox lost the second game by way of forfeit.
I observed all of this from up in the press box. Soon, the phones started ringing off the hook and the various network radio outlets wanted a first-hand account of what was happening in Chicago. I remember fielding calls from the Associated Press, United Press International, The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation and many others. This was my entree into being a stringer (correspondent) at that time.
Eventually the rowdy crowd was ushered out of the park, and head groundskeeper Roger Bossard worked through the night and into the next day to get the field and ballpark back to shape. Bossard recently told me that this was the only time in his long illustrious career that he didn't want to come back to the park the next day. He also told me that Veeck was upset for weeks afterward and kept fielding calls from real and well-behaved baseball fans. Veeck himself tried that night to physically keep fans off the field, but he was overwhelmed just like the limited number of security officers on hand.
It's a night that I'll never forget, but it was also a night that allowed me to use my skills as a reporter and paint a picture across the city and country. Perhaps the T-shirt the White Sox are set to give away Thursday evening can even become a keepsake.
David Schuster is a reporter, update anchor and host for 670 The Score. Follow him on Twitter @Schumouse.
