The concert that I wanted to attend has happened.
From the Chicago Tribune:
Rock, where is thy Sting?
Every little thing they do is mellower now, but fans are as well
The denizens of Wrigleyville, accustomed to bars and baseball, are choosy when it comes to rock shows, unwilling to let a band with overly raucous followers invade their friendly confines.
So when The Police’s reunion concert arrived Thursday night at Wrigley Field, there was excitement but not mania, a comfortable buzz but a distinct lack of edginess.
More here.
Tribune rock critic Greg Kot also weighs in:
The members of the Police are now multimillionaires, men of leisure who played leisurely versions of many of their hits Thursday in the first of two sold-out concerts at Wrigley Field.
“Sold out” is a relative term, as scalpers were dumping tickets at well below face value outside the ballpark. Inside, the Police occasionally played as if they were mentally counting up the $100 million they will pile up on their current tour, the band’s first in 23 years, rather than focusing on the task at hand. The crowd took its time getting into the show as well; while waiting for the Police to heat up, the fans applauded the hits politely and otherwise made as much noise as a typical summer theater crowd.
More of Mr. Kot here.
I spoke with my coworker (I’ll call him “B” for sanity’s sake) about his efforts to sell his tickets. He confirmed that it was very difficult to part with them. He said to me he had been a little concerned about his success in selling them, as the crowd that was going to the show was probably not made up of people that are going to go on the night of the show to score some tickets.
I joked, “Honey, I’ve got a wild hair I need to scratch. What say we drive down from Barrington to Wrigley Field, park the minivan, get something to eat, then score us some Police tickets? I’m feeling a little crazy tonight.”
“B” ended up selling his four tickets to a scalper. The scalpers had a racket, where they would give you money for two, then turn around and try to severely undercut you on the remaining ones, figuring you were just trying to unload some tickets and were still going to the show. The first scalper tried this on “B”, but he wouldn’t sell his remaining two tickets for the price the scalper wanted.
So, the scalper then tries to get his money back, saying he is a cop! “B” wasn’t buying that, but the guy was several inches over six feet, so he did give the money back.
All told, after over an hour wandering around the outside of Wrigley Field, “B” sold his four tickets for a grand total of $100. But it’s all rock ‘n roll, idn’t it?
That sucks– he should have just sold them to you. Sounds like you didn’t miss much, though.
Kim lived just a few doors down from Wrigley when I met her. My stepdaughter told me a while back at how much happier she is here (about a mile and a half west of Wrigley). Seems that the height of drunken Cub fan comic genius is to play “ding dong ditch” at midnight or so. Hilarious.
As a kid, I LOVED The Police. Now I think they’re okay. Much of their music hasn’t aged very well. I contemplated gettting tickets since I never saw them before. But passed. But if someone had offered me free tickets I probably would have gone.
jy, I’d still have been happy to have seen them. It would somehow plug a small void in my adolescence (though most likely it would just make me realize there wasn’t really a void). Re: your stepdaughter, just tell her that public urination is what distinguishes us from those snobbish Brits (but not the French).
mr. miller, I agree that much of their music has suffered over time — primarily the heavy-handed and intellectualish lyrics Sting would occasionally lapse into, but I recently downloaded all of their albums (I had all their stuff on cassette, woo!) and a lot of it still makes me boogie. I would have tried as hard as hell to get a babysitter if my coworker was offering me the tickets for the price he ended up selling them for, too.
I used to like the Police, and Synchronicity was one of my favorite early 80’s records…but I’ve gotten so tired of, and irritated by, Sting, that I would’nt bother to see them now unless it was free.
When girl Yen and I lived three doors down from Wrigley, we were coming home from a trip over Labor Day weekend. I thought I was going to have to park eight miles away, but when I drove down Sheffield I got the very first free parking space kitty-corner to Murphy’s….as we were walking up the backsteps, all of the Jimmy Buffett fan’s were singing Margaritaville…
That was a great American moment.
He really should have given them to you.
Not only were The Police there (as reported by your rapier wit), but so were pigs.