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A Barstool Chicago Tradition - Recapping The Police Blotter From St Patrick's Day Saturday

Bringing a tradition unlike any other back this year, the Chicago St. Patrick's Day Police Blotter blog, made famous by Blogcat. 

These were some of the best blogs ever to appear on the site. Just layup blog material. 

As Dan perfectly put it-

There is something special about waking up on St Patrick’s day Saturday in Chicago. The winter feels like it’s finally over (we all know this isn’t the case). Conference tournaments are on, March Madness is coming up, the Masters is around the corner and summer time Chicago is not too far away. There’s that whiff of spring in the air and you wake up knowing you’re about to drink far too many Jameson shots and Irish Car Bombs. A day drinking affair that EVERYONE looks forward to. So what if you’ll be violently hungover on Sunday and Monday. So what if you’ll probably watch one of your friends puke and fall or your buddy will break up with his girlfriend in the middle of a bar. That first drink is the absolute best. Usually on an empty stomach and it always goes down smooth. Nirvana.

-12:21 AM - Hot start. Welcome to Chicago

- 12:25 AM Sorry but I laughed out loud at this one. A potpourri of a police complaint. Little bit of everything.

- 12:30 AM - You've gotta pull out all the bedroom tricks for St. Patrick's Day. Everybody knows that. Soon as the clock strikes midnight the freaks come out.

- 12:40 AM Our first official St. Patrick's Day fight. We're back

- 3AM 

I feel for this guy. Nothing worse than getting left behind by the pack and then striking out. This guy obviously went out for just a few pops with the boys at the Ohare Marriot Hotel bar. Flew in for the weekend to catch up with the old college crew and get into some crazy shit. Hopefully get some strange. One jamo shot leads to ten and next thing you know he's outside sharing a smoke with the barback who he bummed a grit off. Barback goes inside and leaves your boy out there solo, but he left his room key and cell phone on the bar. Now he's outside, freezing and hammered. The rest of his boys snuck upstairs to bed when he went outside so he's forgotten about. Banging on the doors isn't getting the attention of the hotel's skeleton crew so his only choice was to try and break in. We've all been there.

- 7AM - To start things off this year, the city gave us plebes back our river dying. So that was nice.

Nothing gets the blood flowing like seeing highlighter fluid in the river. It's like the Bat Signal. You know its going to be a fucking day.

- 7:30AM the front liners aka the expendables are out and about. Already beginning to lineup outside the bars in Wrigleyville (St. Patricks Day Ground Zero). One thing you gotta know about Wrigleyville is if the Cubs aren't playing, or they suck at the time, Wrigleyville is a ghost town. Unless there's a bar crawl (which there are hundreds of like once a month now) or its TBox or something. St. Patrick's Day is a totally different animal. Kids come in from the suburbs in droves, they come down from Loyola, Northwestern, and Depaul. Wrigleyville is a melting pot of debauchery on St. Patrick's Day. 

No porta johns or bike rails setup to keep people on the sidewalks down Clark. Interesting strategy Alderman Tunney, let's see how this plays out.

- People showing up at 7:30 to get in line for a 9 am bar opening are just built differently. Takes a special kind of passion to get fucked up that they don't teach you in school. You can't learn it, you have to be born with it. Salute to you degenerates. Probably still in the Green Beer Day routine you became accustomed to at Miami Ohio (sneaky top 5 party school in the Midwest). Wake up at 5am. Roll your keg out onto your front lawn (or in this case onto your third story back deck of your apartment in Lakeview. Turns out the girls below you are already out on there's and there's about a hundred empty High Noon cans scattered around. They must have been up early, or probably never went to bed.) It sucks that the Weisman brothers haven't opened a Brickstreet Chicago location yet, so I guess Old Crow Wrigleyville will have to do. You text your boy Lance (you went to Miami Ohio remember) to make sure he got your eventbrite ticket.

(sidebar/pro tip- do NOT under any circumstance purchase an eventbrite ticket to any St. Patrick's Day event. Ever. This isn't New Years Eve. People aren't getting dressed up, doing dinner and then heading to a bar for an all you can drink package that ends promptly at 11:59:59 at which point you're riding cash bar the rest of the way. So you better get fucked up off the cheap shit the severely understaffed bartenders are pouring. No, this is St. Patrick's Day. A fucking free for all. You're talking doormen that have never worked a door before in their life, or are only working at the bar you're going to for that one day only. Every place in the city with a liquor license is open at the same time and needs security. These guys give zero fucks about an event "ticket" and their managers giving them the orders to keep the count at just under 150% of their establishment's legal capacity doesn't either. He's been one-in-one-out for the past 3 hours so that $30 you spent for "guaranteed entry" to Deuces and Diamonds just went to some promoter's cocaine fund. Welcome to the party.

- 7:41 AM - "We've got a call in that people are dumping shit in the river to dye it green. Caller is furious. Says nobody has been able to celebrate for a year so the Irish shouldn't be able to either. No this is not a joke."

1- Welcome to 2021…

2- Somebody needs to get laid. Badly.

- 9AM. Now we go.

- Noon - Mark your scorecards, we have our first reported public group sex of the afternoon. If you're holding a devil's threesome betting slip please come collect your winnings.

- 1 PM - The reinforcements are arriving.

These are the people that went a little too hard the night before and weren't able to answer that 7am bell. They snoozed it off for an extra 3 or 4 hours but now they're as good as new and ready to fuck and party. 

Nothing better than randomly checking your phone and noticing your have a text from one of these friends that reads "Where are you guys?" when you open it. You send them the coordinates and they usually come in looking like a million bucks, hair still half wet from the shower, ready to go hard.

- 2 PM They've called in the military

- 3:30 PM "There's a man in our Walgreens pounding a bottle of Svedka and he's not supposed to be here"

Every group needs one of these guys that honestly forgets Chicago is not an open container city every year on St. Patricks day. He just wants to walk around with his bottle of medium priced, medium grade alcohol of choice and not be bothered. Let him live will you?

- 4 PM Mark your scorecards, we've officially had our first vagina stabbing of the day

- 5 PM - DUI on Fremont

Guessing this guy stumbled out of Goose Island expecting it to be dark outside but was blinded by the light and immediately puked. Like a vampire reaction. You can't be chugging rumpleminze and IPA's for 7 hours straight and then walk into blasting sunlight.  (We had incredible weather this weekend). That'll make you puke every time. Which I'm assuming threw off his train of thought and made him forget that we live in civilized times now and that there's no excuse not to get an Uber or Lyft 

- 6pm - we're officially back baby.

Cool calm and collected. 

-  6:30pm - Now the paranoia is setting in. It's been a long day. You might have partaken in just a few too many party favors and you're no longer thinking sharp. Back at your buddies place waiting to catch your second wind (it's not coming) and waiting for the postmates guy to show up with your Portillo's order when you notice it…

Remember the end scene in Goodfellas when the helicopter is following Ray Liotta everywhere? 

Nobody takes you seriously, because you've done enough coke to kill an elephant, but it's there. You see it. They're watching you.

"Who is watching us?"

"The man is"

"Why is the man watching us?"

"I dunno but he is"

Who hasn't been there?

- 7 PM

No it's officially St. Patrick's Day in Chicago. It took us a little longer than usual, but give us a break. We were on IR last year and we got zero training camp reps this year. 

But this? 

A bald fat guy going dick out for the girls putting on an Orange Theory class in the middle of the street means we are back in mid-season form. 

- 7:25 PM - we've got some young guys looking to steal some booze from a Jewel

Clearly, these are kids who don't have fake IDs or had theirs taken away. Pro-tip,- you don't need to become thieves to get booze when you're underage. Work smarter not harder. Head into the hood, find the most ratchet liquor store you can, and go in there and flash your hard-earned cash. They will be blown away to see you for one, they'll be even more blown away you've got big bills (anything over a $1), and pretty sure you could flash them your high school ID and they'll ask if you want paper or plastic. Just keep your head on a swivel coming out and driving back home.

- 7:30 PM 

Definitely a Timmy O'Tooles casualty. The only thing that can make those wings better is being stoned out of your mind when inhaling them. Looks like this guy over calculated. 

- 7:50 PM

2 things either happened here.

1- The probable assumption here is that some guy thought he'd be a big shot and have a chance with a girl he was hitting on at Country Club by telling her he had a sick boat. She asked if she could see it sometime and he said of course. She proceeded to turn around immediately and tell her 5 girlfriends they were going on that guys boat later that night. The guy realized he was up shits creek but decided to play it out and sink with the ship. There would be no way those girls would still be standing in a few hours, or even remember the boat. But to his dismay they not only showed stamina, they proceeded to invite everyone else in the bar. "Where's it docked? Waldron? Right by Soldier Field? In March? Awesome, can't wait"

2- Or this guy was so fucked up that in the midst of buying everybody at the bar a round of shots, he screamed out for everybody to take the after party to his boat at the Waldron dock. Before leaving he made sure to double check with everybody "you're coming right? Gonna be the best night ever". Only to realize upon pulling up to the dock that it's March in Chicago and his boat has been in dry storage since September. 

- 8 PM - Classic Northwestern Wildcat. Lock some poor schmuck uber driver into accepting your ride and having to take you all the way to Evanston from Parlor Wicker Park. Rather than be a gentleman, and ask to pull over so you can throw up 4 seltzers that aren't sitting so well, you puke like a little bitch all over the poor guys backseat. And now you're arguing about it? "I'm not paying for that. You can't prove it was me. Mike Greenberg went to my school. Ever heard of him?"

- 12:30 AM - These are my kind of people

I wish I had the balls to do this back in college when I had a backyard (Rogers Park). Nothing is better than live music. Nothing. Even if the band sucks it still creates an electricity that your Bluetooth speaker and spotify never can. A band that begins playing in the wee hours of St. Patrick's Day night? That's just a power move. 69% of people are zombies by this time, 30% are in bed, and the remaining 1% are the heroes still going strong like these people. Bet you the cops that showed up didn't even make them cancel the party, probably told them turn it down for 10 minutes, pour them a cold one, then let them crank it back up once they left.

- 2 AM - "Tyrese and Vin Diesel are on lower wacker getting fast n furious"

All in all a pretty tame St. Patrick's Day by regular Chicago standards. 

Looking at it from a glass half full perspective, and coming from not even being allowed to really celebrate last year (legally), this was a big W overall. Gotta walk before you can run. Next year being 100% back you can bet your ass we can expect a lot more lewd behavior, public indecency, group sex, drug use, vomit stories, and couple fights. 

p.s. - Indy I see you back in full swing