Let Us Now Praise 10 Cent Beer Night

Photo by Jose Gonzalez on Unsplash

Before my basement went out of commission, I’d occasionally go down there to listen to my old records.

While thumbing through my collection recently, I came across an LP from 1981 that I’d forgotten about: Jefferson Starship’s Modern Times. If the album is remembered today, it’s for the opening track, “Find Your Way Back,” which still occasionally surfaces on classic rock radio.

Upon its release, however, the most talked-about song was the one that closes the album: “Stairway to Cleveland (We Do What We Want).”

The song is a musical middle finger to critics. It reportedly was inspired by a negative review of the band’s 1979 album, Freedom at Point Zero. The chorus, as it were, is a sneeringly yelled declaration: “F*ck you. We do what we want!”

At 13, I reveled in any excuse to use that word and loved the song’s irreverence and defiance.

Soon enough, though, even teenaged me recognized that much of the music Jefferson Starship was channeling its irreverence and defiance into creating was lousy.

For example, “Mary,” another song on Modern Times, opens with, “Mary, I’ll love her all my life. But she’ll never be my wife.” The chorus doubles down (literally): “I will never marry Mary.”

They must have spent weeks coming up with those lyrics. I hope Mary got the message.

Also, it must be pointed out that, a few years later, a different incarnation of the band, going by the truncated moniker Starship, would release “We Built This City.” It’s probably the most reviled hit song of the 80s.

As for “Stairway to Cleveland,” it hasn’t survived closer scrutiny, either. My problem with it is that it’s a cheap, unfair swipe at Cleveland.

America’s funniest city

It doesn’t happen as much now, but belittling certain American cities was once an accepted comedic trope. And Cleveland was one of the most inviting targets.

That Cleveland gave us rock & roll, Life Savers candy, both the modern traffic light and the modern golf ball, Chef Boyardee, Thurston Howell III (Jim Backus), Daisy Duke (Catherine Bach), and legendary jazz guitarist Jim Hall didn’t seem to matter.

Cleveland was industrial. It was blue-collar. It was located on Lake Erie, assumed to be the dirtiest of the Great Lakes. And it didn’t help when, in 1969, the then heavily polluted Cuyahoga River caught on fire (and not for the first time).

Fair or not, the jokes wrote themselves.

A 21^st century metropolis

Today, Cleveland enjoys a much better reputation.  It’s one of my favorite cities to visit.

It’s still, though to a lesser degree, an industrial city in the middle of the rustbelt. But it also has good restaurants and great museums, including the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, a beautiful lakefront, and a livable, walkable downtown.

If you visit, stop for a drink and a giant pretzel at Bar 32, the rooftop bar in the Hilton Cleveland on Lakeside Avenue, and take in the amazing views of the lake and skyline.

You can also see the house used for the exterior shots of the Parker’s home in the classic 1983 holiday film A Christmas Story.

If you have kids, or just want to feel like a kid again, check out any of the three locations of Apple Jax Toys (owned and operated by my cousin and his wife).

Stop in at one of Cleveland’s many breweries, as well. And be sure to take in a Cleveland Guardians game at beautiful Progressive Field.

A legendary anniversary

Speaking of beer and baseball, June 4^th marks the 50^th anniversary of one of the most legendary moments in the game’s history, even though Cleveland native son Joe Posnanski didn’t include it in his otherwise wonderful book, Why We Love Baseball: A History of the Game in 50 Moments. (My guess is it just missed the cut, coming in at Moment #51. But it should be higher.)

I’m referring, of course, to the infamous and ill-fated 10 Cent Beer Night at Cleveland Municipal Stadium.

On June 4, 1974, the Cleveland Indians (the team changed its name to the Guardians in 2021) played a home game against the Texas Rangers. That season, the Rangers had become a bitter rival. This wasn’t surprising, as the Rangers were managed by the fiery and combative Billy Martin.

In those days, the Indians were bad—really bad—and struggling to attract fans to their games at the cavernous, Depression-era lakefront stadium they shared with their pro football brethren, the Cleveland Browns.

Someone in the Indians’ front office came up with an idea. An Ohio-centered moment of promotional genius only to be outdone a few years later by the writers for WKRP in Cincinnati.

The idea was 10 Cent Beer Night. It must have seemed like a winner at the time. Buy a ticket to the game and drink for a dime.

It sounds exactly like the sort of promotion that would resonate with a baseball fanbase in a blue-collar city. And resonate it did! More than 25,000 people came through the turnstiles, double the typical attendance for a Tuesday night home game that season.

What could go wrong? Well, let’s just say it wasn’t thought through very well.

Trouble brewing

For starters, no one accurately predicted how much beer might be consumed. And given that the historical record is, not surprisingly, a little foggy, it’s not clear what the exact rules were.

By one account, customers were limited to purchasing six beers. But there was apparently nothing stopping them from coming right back and buying six more. Or six more after that. Or six more after that… until they ran out of dimes.

(There is also some dispute about serving size. Depending upon the source, each beer was either 8, 10, or 12 ounces.)

Then there was another small detail that wasn’t considered. No additional security was added to keep the large crowd of overserved fans in check.

The drunken shenanigans that followed have been well-documented. If you need a primer, read this or listen to this. Or, better yet, watch this.

If you have only experienced the family-friendly atmosphere found in today’s major league baseball stadiums, you might be appalled to learn what went down that night.

Or, if you’re like me, you might be a little jealous you weren’t there.

Here are just a few of the highlights:

• An inebriated fan ran onto the field and tried to steal the cap off the head of a Rangers player.
• Multiple people went streaking or otherwise frolicked on the field while in various states of undress.
• A female fan flashed the crowd then attempted to kiss an umpire.
• Fans tried to rip the foam padding off the outfield wall.
• Fireworks were thrown into the Rangers’ dugout and bullpen.
• Surprisingly, only 12 people were arrested.
• Not surprisingly, the Indians were eventually forced to forfeit the game because of the beer-induced chaos.

In spite of—or perhaps because of—these events, 10 Cent Beer Night lives on in memory as a monument to both poor planning and bad behavior. Sure, it was a mess and a disgrace, but over time it has somehow taken on a patina of fun.

It was basically an epic party that got out of hand.

Alcohol and sports: an obnoxious combo

The enduring appeal of 10 Cent Beer Night is easy to understand. It brought together two things Americans love: sports and drinking to excess.

I can personally attest to this combination’s appeal.

More than once, in my younger days, I consumed so much alcohol at a college football tailgate that I fell sound asleep in the stadium bleachers during the game.

And I don’t want to hear from any of you about how by “younger days,” I may or may not mean as recently as last football season. How dare you!

One summer evening when I was in my early twenties, I attended a baseball game at old Riverfront Stadium in Cincinnati with two close friends. I don’t recall how many beers the three of us consumed while sitting in the upper deck of that now long-gone stadium. Let’s just say it was … enough.

However, I do still recall the parents and their young children sitting nearby. And how they either left or relocated mid-game to other seats. To get away from us.

Thinking back, I’m sure those parents weren’t avoiding us because we were intoxicated. They moved because we were being loud and obnoxious.

In memory, it all seems like it was harmless fun. Spilled drinks. Boisterous inside jokes and insults. My friend’s scorecard, on which he had meticulously captured eight innings of baseball, getting shellacked with a thick handful of nacho cheese.

I have no doubt that if we behaved like that at a game now we’d be escorted out by security.

Ruminating on this memory as an older, more mature adult, I should be embarrassed. I really should.

But I’m not.

I never laughed so much

After the game, we skipped the shuttle back to our hotel and headed toward downtown Cincinnati in search of more alcohol and fun. We found both.

After a few stops, we ended up in a bar with a good band and girls to talk to. And being how the only “game” we had was the one we had just attended, talking was the extent of these interactions.

Now, I’m generally not the kind of person who drinks and then does outlandish things. I don’t steal. I don’t destroy. I don’t (often) go streaking.

Relatively speaking, I’ve always been much more cerebral when I drink. But, of course, as those parents in Riverfront Stadium could have attested, you can be both “cerebral” and an ass.

Still, I never laughed as much as I did that evening.

If I’d been old enough and had the opportunity to attend 10 Cent Beer Night, I doubt I’d have done anything I would have been ashamed to one day tell my children about. But I’d have been proud to have told them I was there.

I also wouldn’t have told them everything.

Yeah, I know, binge drinking is problematic and shouldn’t be encouraged. Ever.

But I also must admit that I never tried to drink a binge.

Embracing the legacy

On June 4^th the Guardians are hosting the Kansas City Royals. I was going to call the Guardians to ask if there were any plans to mark the golden (lager?) anniversary of 10 Cent Beer Night.

I decided not to bother. I figured I already knew what they’d say.

And who could blame them? The Guardians have been one of the happiest surprises of the 2024 season. They’re among the best teams in baseball and have entered June sitting atop the American League Central Division.

I’m sure the Guardians would prefer to keep fans’ attention focused on their winning present, instead of on a drunken, embarrassing night 50 years in the past.

But as for Cleveland itself, I think there’s something inherently healthy about embracing the legacy of 10 Cent Beer Night.  A renewed city that once was laughed at can now, with confidence and swagger, look back and laugh at its own mistakes.

There will never be another

I’m happy to see there are multiple events planned around Cleveland this week to commemorate 10 Cent Beer Night’s 50^th anniversary.

And why not? After all, there will never be another 10 Cent Beer Night. And the Cuyahoga River’s flammable days are (hopefully) behind it.

I’ll be marking the day by attending a major league baseball game in another city. I’ll probably buy a beer—and it will cost me much more than 10 cents.

But I’ll pay it anyway.  Like Jefferson Starship, I do what I want!