An inside view from Detroit Lions fans' latest stadium takeover on the road
CHICAGO — They came from around the country as they have all fall, and from all over Michigan, too. They flew and they drove, and they rode trains, and the heartiest of them set up camp in enemy territory soon after sunrise Sunday morning.
A fan from Mount Pleasant arrived by way of Colorado — he lives in Boulder — from where he packed up his Detroit Lions’ flag last weekend for the trip here, a symbol to stake claim in a parking lot squeezed between Lake Michigan and Soldier Field.
I spotted that flag Sunday from a perch on a nearby parking deck, thick with charcoal smoke, buzzing with the sound of flames searing meat, a thumping, bumping bass line vibrating through the tailgates. An icy breeze kept the revelers huddled, and while the Bears fans outnumbered the Lions fans, the road team's faithful were easy to spot.
It’s been that way since the season opener in Kansas City, Missouri, in September.
Matt Quinn tucked the Lions flag into a suitcase and flew in from Denver. He planted the flag on the back of the truck of Tim Smith, who drove from Mount Pleasant to meet him.
JEFF SEIDEL: Listen, Lions pessimists: Your team doesn't stink. It just has fixable problems.
There, hard by Lake Michigan, Quinn and Smith — longtime friends and former college classmates — met up with three other Lions diehards to grill brats and peppers (what else?), knock back a few beers and join thousands of other fellow travelers in this season of the Detroit takeover.
In front of them, Chicago’s skyline hung just beyond the shoulder of the Bears’ iconic stadium, concrete and steel cutting the low-hanging gray. Behind, a chilly inland sea offered bracing wind. All of them were sheathed in Honolulu Blue and silver clothing, layered in their beloved team’s merchandise to gird against the cold.
They could hardly feel their toes and fingers as they stood amid all that frozen, brutal beauty. Ask them if they felt cold, though, and they would have denied it. Of course, they would have; nothing warms the soul like giddiness — or anticipation ... or joy, for that matter.
“I don’t even know how to handle this,” said Quinn.
The scene. The reunion. The team. The season. He has never experienced anything like this. And whether the Lions keep stumbling down the stretch or rediscover their mid-Fall mojo, the first three months of this season have been something akin to magical.
'This season, we're venturing out'
If not magical, then certainly unprecedented. After all, the Lions hadn’t started a season 9-3 since the 1960s. Before the lunar landing, if you’re counting. And while the awakening of a long sodden football team isn’t the equivalent of a moon launch, it stirs something similar inside.
Surely, you’ve spotted it around the U.S. this season, whether through viral video chants or, quite literally, through your televisions. “Let’s Go, Lions!” has become the late-game soundtrack for away games. The chants were so loud at times the noise surprised the commentators.
More than a few Lions players have remarked how they’ve never seen anything quite like it, this rolling, traveling army, this cadre of throaty supporters some six decades in the making.
PLAYOFFS? How can the Lions clinch a playoff berth? Here are 16 scenarios
All that boxed-up angst has been unleashed, from Kansas City to Green Bay, from Tampa to New Orleans. Call it the soul of Detroit, if you will — a region’s essence that has shown up and shown out, a brigade that has grown by the week.
Last week in Chicago, the takeover began the night before the game. Lions gear was everywhere in the Magnificent Mile neighborhood — along Michigan Avenue, of course — flowing from restaurants and bars and spilling into the streets of downtown.
The Weber Grill — named after that Weber Grill — is housed in a hotel on the corner of State and Grand, and by late cocktail hour Saturday night, the bar overflowed with Lions fans.
Anthony Lelekatch was there for his birthday.
“I can’t buy that man any more tools,” said his wife, Kay Lelekatch.
MUST LISTEN: Make "Carlos and Shawn" your go-to Detroit sports podcast, available anywhere you listen to podcasts (Apple, Spotify) ]
And so, she bought a train ticket instead, along with a bus ticket — from an Irish bar to the stadium — and a game ticket. They arrived from Brooklyn, Michigan, by way of Allen Park, retirees settling into the quiet life. She worked as a dental assistant, and he worked as an electrician at Metro Airport.
“I made sure the lights stayed on on the runways,” he said, smiling.
Now they were here, leading the way instead of lighting the way, making friends with the folks donning Honolulu Blue Santa hats behind them, passing crab cakes and clinking glasses. Marvinna Stewart and Kim Dickson wore those Lions Santa hats proudly, and happily let any locals in the bar area know their group now owned the bar.
By day, Stewart works in a dermatology office and Dickson works as a business analyst. On the weekends, they work the corporate suites at Ford Field, just to be close to the action. They’d never taken a trip on the road together and figured this was the season to do it.
“This season, we’re venturing out,” said Dickson, who lives in Detroit.
Strangers in a strange land coming together
The Lions rebirth spurred its own cottage travel industry this fall. Delta Airlines has taken advantage of the rush. Hotels and restaurants have benefited. Booking a direct flight from Metro without plenty of lead time is its own kind of game.
Mike and Katie Salagat didn’t have to worry about boarding a plane. They just walked out their front door in Cloverdale and drove into the city from the suburbs. Michigan ex-pats are everywhere in Chicago, and those folks helped cut all the navy and orange in Soldier Field; relocated Michiganders in Los Angeles did the same when the Lions played the Chargers last month.
SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE: How do Lions historically fare on Saturdays? Better than you may think
The Salagats were lined up at their tailgating lot at 7 a.m. and ensconced themselves in a corner spot just east of the stadium. They set up a table and a burner to heat chili in a cast iron skillet, made sausage and burgers and mimosas.
Next to the hearty spread stood a miniature Christmas tree. Katie fashioned Lions ornaments out of the team’s logo and paper and circled the little tree in silver garland. She figured it was the least she could do to support the team that’s given her family so much mirth this holiday season.
Besides, they’ve been inspired by Dan Campbell’s coaching style and his dedication to being himself.
“We live for those postgame videos from the locker room,” said Mike. “The (players) would run through a wall for that guy.”
Not unlike the way so many have run to the corners of this country to love and celebrate this team. Henry Crook and Isha King drove over from Detroit to see their Lions. She’s a chef and he’s an equipment operator on the construction of the Gordie Howe Bridge, and when they’re not cooking and building, they’re savoring every moment of this newly found place.
“Couldn’t wait to get here,” said King as she stood under a bridge outside the stadium, sporting a Lions’ beanie.
Crook wore Buffs and a thick, iridescent blue chain around his neck with a Lion hanging from the bottom. Fans stopped by to shake his hand and compliment him on his swag.
“We’re building the world,” he said, a nod to his work, and a little trash talk to the Bears fans that slowed to chat.
Monica and John Watson spotted Crooks’ Lions brassy vibe and had to introduce themselves. They were from Chicago but had met in Atlanta when they were in college. While there, they’d met a Detroiter named Eric Ramsey. They became lifelong friends and talked nearly every day, often about sports, often about their rival teams.
“Eric loved the Lions,” said Monica, “he and John would’ve been here together today, and talking trash.”
Ramsey died last year from cancer. And as much as they miss him still, they feel like he is with them through this Lions run.
“We feel like he is the reason the Lions are winning,” said Monica — a Honolulu Blue angel, as it were.
Sports can be mystical like that. It’s what drives folks to drive and fly thousands of miles for a game.
Wherever this season ends, however this season ends, the fans who’ve taken a piece of Detroit to all points around the country this fall will never have to give that up. Their journeys will always be with them.
Contact Shawn Windsor: 313-222-6487 or swindsor@freepress.com. Follow him @shawnwindsor.
This article originally appeared on Detroit Free Press: Inside view from Detroit Lions fans' latest stadium takeover on road