T. J. Schuyler watched player introductions from the 300 level at the United Center.
John Konstantaras/Chicago News Cooperative
Describing a subset of sports enthusiasts as “300-level fans” doesn’t stir the imagination — it lacks the catchy panache of, say, “Bleacher Bums.” But the third balcony at the United Center during a Blackhawks game is filled with the same type of quirky behaviors, faith-based knowledge and deep-seated passion that was so unerringly recounted in “Bleacher Bums,” the long-running play about the eccentric, obsessed regulars who hung out in Wrigley Field’s bleachers more than 30 years ago.
Any playwright or filmmaker who visited the balcony would come away knowing plenty about hockey and the Hawks, who face Vancouver in the second round of the Stanley Cup playoffs beginning Saturday night.
“This is where the real fans are,” said Eddie Nieves, a financial analyst from Chicago, as he downed a between-periods beer with his friend Carissa Scherber on the 300-level concourse at a recent Sunday game. “There’s nobody on a BlackBerry, no business transactions going on. Everybody’s into the game.”
“Jersey City” would be an appropriate title for a 300-level adaptation. Probably 80 percent of the population wears replica Hawks home sweaters, transforming the balcony into a circular sea of red. Most of the remaining 20 percent are in white road tops or throwback black ones. Red, white or black, all the shirts bear the proud Indianhead logo.
The names on the backs cut across generational lines: Toews and Kane — shout-outs to the current Hawks stars Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane — are the most popular and a reminder that standing-room crowds and record TV ratings are recent developments. Marian Hossa, Duncan Keith and Brent Seabrook are also well represented.
But this is a team with a history of charismatic players, as evidenced by the abundance of Savard, Chelios and Roenick jerseys. There are still a few for Bobby Hull and Stan Mikita, and at least one for the bad boy Bob Probert. Nieves’s shirt salutes Steve Larmer, a winger who played with Savard in the 1980s.
Jessica Santevere, a social worker from Aurora, sports a red No. 10. “Patrick Sharp is my guy,” she said. She’s one of many No. 10-wearing women in the house. It’s probably not a coincidence that Sharp, a hard-working, 27-year-old Hawks winger, is movie-star handsome.
Johna Vazquez, a middle-school administrator from Oak Lawn, blends in among the red horde, but the symbol on her shirt is a winged wheel, and the name on the back is Zetterberg, as in Red Wings standout Henrik. Vazquez is a Detroit émigré. It’s nervy to flaunt her allegiance to the hated Red Wings in this environment, but the husky presence of husband David, in his Toews jersey, probably discourages taunting.
“Everybody’s really cool,” Vazquez said. “We just talk hockey, and if anybody gives me a hard time, it’s good-natured, like, ‘We’ll get you in the playoffs this year.’ ”
She added: “Detroit is a great hockey town — maybe the best. But Chicago is getting there.”
Detroit fans are a bit puffed up over their “Hockeytown” reputation, and since last year’s Winter Classic they’ve been critical of the ear-splitting roar at the United Center that accompanies every note of Jim Cornelison’s “Star Spangled Banner,” dismissing it as a disrespectful gimmick.
But the 300-level patrons are Cornelison’s loudest accompanists.
“I don’t have a problem with it; I don’t think it’s disrespectful at all,” said Lee Nega, a Vietnam veteran who works for the Village of Hawthorn Woods.
“I think people are acknowledging what a great job” Cornelison does with the anthem, Nega added, and they’re working up their energy for the game.
The energy is unceasing from anthem to final horn. Nobody has a clue about the lyrics to “Chelsea Dagger,” the Hawks’ unofficial goal song, but who needs words. Boisterous chanting and improvised dancing greet each playing. The ditty was nearly drowned out last week by the roars after the desperate tying and winning scores by Kane and Hossa against Nashville. United Center regulars said the building had never been louder.
The volume was reminiscent, almost, of venerable Chicago Stadium, where a Bobby Hull lamp-lighting blast or a Keith Magnuson fight — win or lose — would generate wave after wave of joyful noise. The United Center has it all over the old barn in terms of comfort and amenities, but it will never match the raucous Chicago Stadium atmosphere.
Rocky Wirtz, the Hawks chairman, has become a hero for the moves he has made to reconnect with a disenchanted fan base, including reasonably priced 300-level tickets. The price went up for the playoffs, and it’s increasing next season, but the grumbling is minimal as long as the on-ice product matches the flashy presentation — steak to go with the high-glitz sizzle that is part of a modern hockey game. A first-round playoff exit would have been unacceptable.
Not to worry. The Hawks advanced in Game 6 after surviving Game 5, which made for a smoother ride home for Dan Proctor and his family of youth hockey enthusiasts. Proctor could probably get nicer seats through his business contacts in the food-service industry, but he prefers the 300 level for the view — he can see plays develop and has a better sense of the game.
The Proctors try to make 10 games a year from their home in Champaign. “It’s not bad, two hours door-to-door,” Proctor said. “And it’s a shorter trip home when we win.”
