At Harry Caray’s Restaurant, surrounded by mementos of baseball legends, The Ball sits safely inside a display case–watched over by 13 surveillance cameras, two anti-theft alarms and 24-hour security guards.
All this to protect, at least until Thursday night, what superstitious Cubs fans see as the ultimate symbol of bad luck. This is the baseball that Steve Bartman, the hapless yet loyal Cubs fan, inadvertently knocked away from outfielder Moises Alou during last year’s National League championship series.
“If we destroy that ball, it’ll finally be all right,” said Jeremy Dougherty, 38, a construction worker who dropped by the downtown restaurant for a last peek before the ball is obliterated. “The curse on the Cubs will be lifted.”
Dougherty is among the nearly 30,000 Cubs fans who have sent e-mails, made phone calls and scrawled notes on the bar’s cocktail napkins to Grant DePorter, managing partner of the Harry Caray’s Restaurant Group.
DePorter bought the ball in December for $113,824.16.
The Cubbies faithful all want one thing: to destroy The Ball.
They have suggested DePorter roast it, incinerate it, crush it, put it in front of a firing squad, even launch it into outer space. Someway, anyway, get rid of it.
“This ball is baseball’s anti-trophy,” DePorter said.
On Thursday night, the fans’ pleas will come true. A special-effects expert will obliterate the ball at a street party hosted by the restaurant.
How it will be destroyed remains a mystery, although RedEye learned the ball won’t be dipped in liquid nitrogen, set on fire or cooked. The method will be revealed Thursday morning on NBC’s “Today” show, which is broadcasting from Chicago for the day.
On Wednesday, the ball enjoyed VIP treatment, from a last night on public display in a hotel suite to a final “dinner” of prime steak and lobster and even a massage.
DePorter said he worried at first about spending a small fortune on the ball, but in some ways there was no choice.
“What would happen if we didn’t destroy it and some Marlins’ fan got a hold of it? What if someone used it to psych out the Cubs next year? No, it’s got to go.”
Meet the blast man
Michael Lantieri, a Hollywood special effects expert, agreed to donate his time and figure out the perfect way to vaporize the ball. Lantieri, who won an Oscar for his work on “Jurassic Park,” was raised in the Chicago area and is a longtime Cubs fan.
Practicing for the big moment, Lantieri has been torturing baseballs in various ways, trying to destroy as many as a dozen a day. “They’re harder than you’d expect to blow up,” he said.
The final moments
At 7:32 p.m. Thursday, the Bartman Ball will be destroyed. Hurry and you can still catch a glimpse of it–either whole or being demolished before a crowd of gleeful fans.
– The baseball will appear at about 6:35 a.m. on NBC’s “Today” show, which is broadcasting Thursday from the local NBC 5 studio. The destruction method, a secret so far, will be revealed on air.
– Stop by Harry Caray’s restaurant, 33 W. Kinzie St., from 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. The ball will sit in the display case for the afternoon, under the watchful eyes of two security guards.
– Tickets to the restaurant’s tented street party are sold out, but the event will be broadcast live on MSNBC, as well as at bars around the city, the nation and in 50 different countries. Go to www.toast.citysearch.com for locations.
Chicagoans also can find coverage on CLTV, WTTW and Fox Sports Chicago.
REDEYE Q&A
With the goat
With the Game 6 foul ball being served a final meal, RedEye caught up with the notorious billy goat responsible for the Curse of the Goat. It began in 1945 when the goat’s owner, Bill Sianis, wasn’t allowed to bring the beast into Wrigley Field. Sianis vowed the Cubs would never make it to the World Series again.
First, what the hell is a goat doing trying to get into Wrigley Field?
Sianis had tickets. He used to take me. Then one day, Mr. Wrigley says I stink. So no World Series for you, Cubs. Who stinks now?
It’s been 59 years. You really hang on to your angst.
It keeps me sharp.
OK, so they’re blowing up the Game 6 ball. You must be getting a lot of calls from reporters?
We get a lot of calls from telemarketers. Is that the same thing?
That stings.
You’ll live.
The Billy Goat Tavern brought other goats to Wrigley in 1984, 1989, 1998 and even last year to try and lift the curse. Nothing. Why?
Because the Cubs shortstop needs extra infield.
For a goat, you sure are catty.
Look, once you’ve had the real thing, there are no substitutions. And a curse is a curse. You can’t just walk any goat around in front of the TV cameras. Where’s the passion? Where’s the emotional investment?
And where’s a little something for the original goat?
I’m not saying, I’m just saying.
Seriously. People believe in this thing. What’s the secret solution?
Am I getting paid for this?
No.
Then why would I ever tell you?
Well, OK, how about this: If you could say anything to Steve Bartman, what would that be?
I’d ask: What drew you to “Police Academy 3”? And don’t say “the script.”
No, not Guttenberg. Bartman, Steve BARTMAN.
Oh the kid. Nothing. I’d leave him alone.
