But I was only 8 or so. I remember the scoreboard being pretty shitty :)

My friends dad had ’gunnections, so during my early teen years I doled out promotional items as the fans entered The Stadium. (We mostly worked ’Hawks & Sting games, as back then neither Dave Corzine, Orlando Woolridge, nor Reggie Theus would draw a big crowd to the Big Barn.)

We would have to arrive well before the game, and used Gate 3&1/2 (the players entrance) to access the stadium (which made us kids feel pretty special). There is a box of autographs in my mother’s attic somewhere from that era. Some old-timers may remember this robust, mid-teenage (neighborhood?) kid who hung out at 3&1/2 (hounding players for autographs & trying to get inside for free), his only word, “Solid.” which he periodically repeated as he pounded his chest. He always seemed to be out there, rain, sleet, and snow.

I got to know some of the Andy Frain employees who regularly worked 3&1/2, so in my later HS years they would let my friends & I sneak upstairs to watch the action. Those of you who have skipped the crowded escalator and instead walked all the way up the ramps to the nosebleed seats at The Cell will be able to relate to the Stadium experience. One subtle difference… substitute tight, crowded STAIRS for RAMP. I don’t remember precisely how many flights there were, but they seemed to keep going up, up, up, and then up some more. The worst experience was when the ‘Hawks/Bulls lost and the mass of us mostly-buzzed, irritated fans would have to descend those same humid, cramped stairwells. This often seemed to lead to fights with the other team’s mostly-buzzed, exuberant fans.

As mentioned, all of the seats seemed to be right on top of the action and faced straight out (forward). I mostly remember the wave of fans standing to see the action, especially on break-away plays. You HAD to stand if you wanted to see the action, which was literally to the left or the right of those in the first several rows (of each level) and in turn caused those behind to stand as well. (During the Bulls glory years I remember standing for most of the games.)

I flew back to Chicago for the last Hawks playoff game in the Barn (Damn you, Felix Potvin!) and pried off our seat number placards as memorabilia. I tried to take home a toilet seat as well, but that’s another story for another day.