When word first broke three years ago that the state was going to build the White Sox a new stadium, Pat and Pudi (pronounced “Puddy”) Senese cheered. Never once did they imagine the project meant trouble for them.
“We’re not looking for money; we don’t think the taxpayers should subsidize our bar,” says Pudi Senese. “We only want the state to rent us two lots across the street from the park, like we were promised. We’ll rebuild McCuddy’s with our own money.”
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The conflict might have been avoided if it hadn’t been for the giddy reaction a certain public official had to the Illinois General Assembly’s surprising last-minute decision to finance a new Sox stadium, a decision that would keep the team in Chicago and out of Florida. The General Assembly vote took place June 30, 1988. One week later, just before a legislation-signing ceremony at the old park, Thompson marched into McCuddy’s for a celebration brew. Greeted by dozens of cheering fans, Thompson doffed a green McCuddy’s baseball cap and made the pledge that has haunted him ever since. “McCuddy’s will be moved across the street to preserve it as a historic structure,” he told Pudi Senese. (Thompson would not return phone calls.)
Thompson’s reasons for wanting to save McCuddy’s were sound. Over the years it had become a hallowed gathering spot for baseball fans. Babe Ruth once drank there (legend has it that he occasionally dashed across the street for a brew between innings). In later years Bill Veeck, the late Sox owner, was a regular patron. Actor George Wendt and former Bears lineman Dan Hampton had frequented the place too.
The Seneses say that in August 1988 they met with Bynoe and that Bynoe offered them a site between 35th and 36th just west of where the new stadium would be. “Bynoe got his map of the new Comiskey Park and we picked our site,” says Pat Senese. “We said ‘Thank you,’ and that was it.”
At a later meeting in George’s office, Bynoe unveiled the authority’s offer. The state would lease a tavern rent-free to the Seneses in a building at 33rd and Wells, roughly three blocks from the new stadium.
In late December, George arranged one last meeting with Thompson. It was a week before Christmas, less than a month before Thompson would step down as governor. “Thompson said, ‘Pudi, that’s a terrible place. I’m going down and personally find you a location,’” Pat Senese says. “I said, ‘Governor, you made my Christmas.’”
