Apropos of Nothing: Disco Demolition Night, 1979

The gentlemen you see here are, as you can probably tell by the intelligent-looking expressions on their faces, citizens of the city of Chicago. Or, if not citizens of Chicago, they were at least in Chicago on the night of July 12, 1979 — a.k.a. Disco Demolition Night at Comiskey.

My friend Daniel has alerted me* — apropos of nothing — to some pretty excellent photos of the event by Diane Alexander White.

*It’s been brought to my attention that the photos were linked to by South Side Sox. So, merci to those guys.

For anyone unfamiliar with the significance of Disco Demolition Night, it was a promotion devised by Mike Veeck (son of then-White Sox owner Bill Veeck) and members of Chicago rock radio station WLUP. Fans could gain admission to the July 12th doubleheader for just 98 cents — provided, that is, that they brought a disco record. Between the two games, local DJ Steve Dahl would blow up a crate of the collected records.

Apparently, things didn’t go exactly as Veeck planned.

Blockquote, courtesy of Wikipedia:

The turnout for this promotion far exceeded all expectations. White Sox management was hoping for a crowd of 12,000, about double the average for a Thursday night game that year. But an estimated 90,000 turned up at the 52,000-seat stadium. Thousands of people climbed walls and fences attempting to enter Comiskey Park, while others were denied admission. Off-ramps to the stadium from the Dan Ryan Expressway were closed when the stadium was filled to capacity and beyond.

White Sox TV announcers Harry Caray and Jimmy Piersall, who were broadcasting the game for WSNS-TV, commented freely on the “strange people” wandering aimlessly in the stands. Mike Veeck recalled that the pregame air was heavy with the scent of marijuana. When the crate on the field was filled with records, staff stopped collecting them from spectators, who soon realized that long-playing (LP) records were shaped like frisbees. Some began to throw their records from the stands during the game, often striking other fans. The fans also threw beer and even firecrackers from the stands.

You can read the rest of the account for yourself, but there’s a hint: it didn’t go so well. In fact, after Dahl blew up all the disco records, a number of fans took to — and rendered useless — the playing surface. In the end, the second game was forfeited by the White Sox.