A few sunny February days have the staff here at the “B” wishfully looking forward to the promise of a seasonal spring and the start of the Chicago outdoor sporting season. However, we would be remiss to move forward without admitting to our lackluster updating performance on this hallowed site in the past months...for the brutal winter “Hawk” in combination with political and economic upheaval found many of our writers and readers alike seeking solace in dark fireside libations rather than contemplative thoughts.
So to break these troublesome habits and kick start the spring season in style the “B” turns its attention to an old friend: The Ginty. A longtime favorite in these parts this troubleshooter has helped locals shake all types of bother. We’ve seen this baby make some of the ugliest golfers dance like Chi-Chi Rodriguez after safely navigating some treacherous terrain. The Ginty---- strong enough to clear brush, long enough to retrieve wayward shots, powerful enough to act as a third leg for a bamboozled 18th hole punter----is certainly deserving of an infomercial.
And that’s not all. Due to its elusive nature the Ginty has seen itself shine under the duress of many an unfriendly situation. “Go to my trunk and get the Ginty” was heard more than once when a wayward reveler would find himself in disagreement with a Farnese follower. Like the Holy Grail ,the original Bridgeport Ginty’s location remains a mystery having supposedly passed from Marlo to Stooli to the mysterious son
of a local tavern owner. Though it’s certainly safe to venture a guess that the Ginty will be shrouded and safely stored in some Bridgeporter’s trunk this coming spring.