I had The Barn in mind until I got hit with an aggressively Murphy's Law level trip through Central Illinois tonight.
Instead, I once again made the mistake of trusting Naperville to not be a massive disappointment (.086 career average) and never even touched Liquid Chicago.
Well, at 12:52 AM, I'm at a dive bar south of Joliet, drinking $2 Busch Lights and being gifted Jagerbombs like I invented the wheel.
You could say we clutched up and saved what was turning into a brutal eve of Game 3 and didn't let it kill the vibes.
However, I can confirm that this experience will almost certainly cause me to wake up prepared to absolutely pound the gas and refuse to acknowledge brakes once I (finally) enter Chicago on my way to Bridgeport.
Buckle up folks. If the Sox are alive, we ride, and they haven't found a way to kill us yet.
Staying in Joliet tonight, but stopping for a beer in the best city in the world sounds like the lock of the century.
Building a bit of tolerance before walking into the madness of Bridgeport tomorrow just feels like the move.
Back to that same old place, see you soon. 馃