A cotton candy vendor roams the Wrigley Field stands in 1994. (Jonathan Daniel\/Getty Images)<\/p>\n<\/div>\n
\u201cI went to high school at Ida Crown Jewish Academy, and it was just like a rite of passage there,\u201d said Jon Blumberg, 41, an investment fund manager who vended for five or six summers beginning in 1989. \u201cOnce you were at the age where you no longer were going to camp or didn\u2019t want to be a counselor, it was just what guys did.\u201d<\/p>\n
The tradition long predates Blumberg. The late Rabbi Moshe Kushner, the Chicago Rabbinical Council leader and Camp Moshava-Wisconsin director who died last October at age 68, vended in his youth.<\/p>\n
Twenty years ago, it wasn\u2019t unusual to have upward of 25 Orthodox Jewish vendors working the stands at Wrigley, selling everything from beer to peanuts.<\/p>\n
It was seen as an ideal summer job for observant teenagers. The ballpark is a short ride from Chicago\u2019s Orthodox neighborhoods, it wasn\u2019t too onerous to join the union required to vend, you could make a decent amount of money in just four hours\u2019 work, and vendors could choose when they wanted to work and when they didn\u2019t — perfect both for Sabbath observers and teens uninterested in committing to a regular job.<\/p>\n
Plus, there was the baseball.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis was a dream come true,\u201d said David Porush, 40, a lawyer who vended for a couple of years starting at age 16. \u201cI\u2019m a huge Cubs fan. I love baseball. I love Wrigley Field. If you were a very big fan like me, I\u2019d make $30 or $40 and then sit down to watch the game. But if you were a very aggressive vendor, you could make a lot of money.\u201d<\/p>\n
Danny Altschul, now a partner at the accounting firm McGladrey, credits his five years of vending with helping pay for his wedding and the down payment on his house in the Chicago neighborhood of West Rogers Park.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor those few hours you were out there it wasn\u2019t the time to be lazy,\u201d said Altschul, who could make up to $300 on a good day. \u201cYou work hard, try to work swiftly and take advantage of an opportunity when you\u2019re in a commission-based business. It helped me pay for college.\u201d<\/p>\n
Like many of the vendors, Altschul also hawked wares at Chicago\u2019s other sports arenas. He remembers fondly the day he managed to sell 31 loads of pop (Midwest parlance for soda) at a Cubs-Astros day game and then headed downtown to Comiskey Park to work a White Sox night game.<\/p>\n
Porush says he wanted to vend ever since he was a little kid, when he\u2019d watch Orthodox vendors at Wrigley slip free beer, ice cream and peanuts to his father, a teacher at the Hillel Torah North Suburban Day School. The vendors were former students.<\/p>\n
David Landsman, an accountant who now lives in New Jersey, used to cut school to vend on Opening Day and used a similar tactic to avoid trouble.<\/p>\n
\u201cIn Chicago, everyone would play hooky on Opening Day,\u201d Landsman recalled. \u201cAs long as I gave the assistant principal something from what I was selling, it was fine.\u201d<\/p>\n
In recent years, the stream of young Orthodox Jewish vendors has slowed to a trickle. Seniors at the two Orthodox high schools that served as the main feeders — Ida Crown and Skokie Yeshiva — told JTA through an administrator that students aren\u2019t becoming vendors anymore. Vending isn\u2019t as lucrative as it once was, the rising number of night games makes the job less suitable for teens and the setting isn\u2019t that compelling to young people.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy kids, they don\u2019t get it,\u201d Blumberg said. \u201cThey don\u2019t understand why you\u2019d ever go to a Cubs game because they\u2019re so pathetic. The ones who want to go say they want to go to the Sox.\u201d<\/p>\n
The number of young Orthodox Jewish vendors at Wrigley has shrunk to just four or five, plus about an equal number of older full-timers, according to Joe Bulgatz, an Orthodox Jew in his 50s who has been vending at Wrigley and other sports venues in Chicago since 2004.<\/p>\n
\u201cBetween the Cubs\u2019 performance and the economy, a lot of people are just saying, \u2018Hey, it\u2019s not worth it,\u2019 \u201d he said.<\/p>\n
Bulgatz juggles his hours working in the credit department of a cable provider so he can supplement his income by vending at Wrigley and venues such as U.S. Cellular Field, the United Center and Soldier Field. His modus operandi, he says, is to \u201cprovide the best quality service possible and make a connection with the fans, and make a kiddush Hashem at the same time.\u201d<\/p>\n
If he sees fellow Orthodox Jews, Bulgatz often drops a hint to let them know he\u2019s a member of the tribe — informing them, for example, that the hot chocolate is kosher-certified.<\/p>\n
Orthodox Jews have a few unique restrictions when it comes to vending. They can\u2019t work on Shabbat or Jewish holy days, which cuts out about a quarter of the games. On Passover, they may not handle beer — often the most lucrative product — because it\u2019s hametz, or leavened. And many won\u2019t sell hot dogs for fear of unwittingly selling non-kosher meat to a Jew.<\/p>\n
Years back, when the hot dog buns apparently carried dairy ingredients, Orthodox vendors often debated whether selling franks violated the Jewish law prohibiting profiting from the sale of food that mixes meat and dairy, even if the meat isn\u2019t kosher.<\/p>\n
Rabbi Sholem Fishbane, kashrut administrator at the Chicago Rabbinical Council, says he fielded this question from a vendor\u2019s mother not long ago. The prohibition, he says, applies only to foods in which the dairy and meat have been cooked together, so ballpark franks are OK (as long as you\u2019re not selling them to a Jew).<\/p>\n
As the kosher certification agency for the kosher food stands at the United Center, the rabbinical council maintains an onsite mashgiach, or kosher supervisor, at Bulls (NBA) and Black Hawks (NHL) home games. Wrigley has no exclusively kosher concessions — a subject of some consternation among Orthodox fans. A call to United Center\u2019s kosher concessionaire, Kosher Sports Inc., was not returned.<\/p>\n
With so many God-fearing Jews vending — and sometimes praying — at Wrigley, the Cubs\u2019 dismal performance might seem like a challenge of faith.<\/p>\n
Porush says he doesn\u2019t see it that way.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019d like to think we\u2019re getting our reward in the next world,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019ve seen lots of heartache as a Cubs fan, and I think it is parallel to being a God-fearing Jew. We live through difficult times and all we can say is, \u2018Next year in Jerusalem.\u2019 A Cubs fan is always saying, \u2018Wait till next year.\u2019 That\u2019s who we are.\u201d<\/p>\n
So what will happen first — the coming of the Messiah or a Cubs World Series title (the last was in 1908)?<\/p>\n
\u201cI really hope Moshiach comes first,\u201d Porush said, \u201cbecause the Cubs aren\u2019t going to be a contender for at least another two years.\u201d<\/p>\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.crescentcityjewishnews.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/05\/wrigley-vendor.jpg\" "\\"San")