Listen, here's the thing — you can't call yourself a Chicago sports fan if you've never argued about the bullpen at a bar with a Bears game on eleven screens. I've spent thirty-plus years splitting Sundays between Soldier Field and my brother's couch, and I'm telling you, the shrines and the watering holes matter just as much as the standings. This is the South Side gospel: four houses of worship (the Rate, the Stick, the Madhouse, the friendly-confines one) and four bars where you go to actually process what just happened. Bourbon's optional. The arguing is not.
TheLysts
