That Time I Got Trapped in the Stairwell at Rate Field

June 23, 2026

Rate Field, southside of Chicago. 6:30pm. Number 10 out of 30 on my quest to visit every ballpark in the MLB. By this point I’ve had the full gamut of varied experiences at different ballparks, so nothing should surprise me, but the ingress at this park was particularly slow. Crowds of people shuffling through Gate 5. Eight security stations in place, maybe two in actual use. Incredible bottlenecking at play as I see a couple of people at a time make it past the gate and up the stairs to the ballpark itself.

Once inside, I went through my usual checklist I go through at every ballpark thus far: Get my MLB Ballpark Passport stamped, purchase a baseball with the team’s logo on it for later display, and grab what I gather to be the ballpark’s signature food item.

The first two I accomplished rather quickly at once: The team store not only sold the ball, but also conveniently had the stamp on hand (some parks may have you go to a guest services office).

That just left one task before I meet my friends at our seats, the signature food item. In doing research online and speaking to a few Sox fans, the consensus is that if I were to get one thing, it’d have to be The Cuban Sandwich.

In my research, I found that there’s a Cuban Sandwich stand in Section 536, very conveniently near where my group had seats, Section 527. So I trekked up four stories of ramps to the 500 Level and hopped over to 526 to find that there was indeed a Cuban Sandwich stand… But it was closed…

Determined, I took out my phone to search for an alternative location.

The MLB Ballpark App is a convenient resource for seeing a ballgame, not only housing your tickets, but also featuring maps and concession guides for every ballpark in the league!

So, I searched for the elusive Cuban Sandwich and found that the only other location is back down where I started on Level 100, Section 148.

“Can’t quit now,” I told myself.

The MLB Ballpark App also very conveniently gives you step-by-step directions from wherever your are to wherever you need to get to in the ballpark!

So I set course for Section 148 and headed off!

The app directed me down the Level 500 concourse.

I follow.

The app told me to “Take stairs down to 100 Level,” as I noticed a door to a stairwell to my left, mirrored in the app.

I followed.

Down four stories to a door marked “Level 100.”

“Exit stairs and head right,” the app said.

I tried the door.

It’s locked.

I rattled the door a bit just to make sure.

It didn’t budge.

“Well shit.”

I tried knocking on the door a few times, hoping a passer-by would investigate and open the door from the other side.

No response.

I headed down one level. To my left, I find the emergency exit, with a stern warning that opening this door will trigger an alarm. To my right, doors to the access tunnels underneath the park, locked via keycard.

I headed up two stories to Level 200. Locked

300. Locked. 400. Locked. 500, same door I got in through. Locked.

I headed back down to 100 and began to search for a way to contact the ballpark. They don’t seem to have a direct phone line available, but they do offer a text-only line for contacting the park about security and accessibility issues.

I tapped out a quick message to inform them where I am, and I immediately got an automated response telling me that the message was received.

Five minutes later, I received a single text asking, “Hello, are you still in the stairwell?”

I immediately responded, “yes,” got a cryptic message about my number being removed from the blacklist…

I patiently waited for security to come and open this damn door, taking a seat on the stairs and making use of a portable fan I had brought with me. The stairwell is poorly ventilated and it’s getting quite stuffy…

After about another half-hour of solitude, a ballpark employee happened to come down the stairs.

I flagged him down and told him, “Hey, I’ve been locked in this stairwell for the past 45 minutes, can you please let me out?”

And he just looked at me, wild eyed and flabbergasted. He wasn’t trained for this, he doesn’t know what to do, but he has me follow him down and through the tunnels underneath the park, as I tell him of my endeavor.

We eventually wound up topside again, where I got handed off to a security officer. I explained to him what had happened, and he just stubbornly refused to believe it.

“I don’t know how you got in there, it’s supposed to be locked! I don’t know anything about any apps! That app might be out of date, they renovated the park to add ramps and bridges a little while back!”

Those renovations happened in 2009.

He took me over to Guest Relations where I am introduced to a ballpark manager, guy in a blazer and everything. I retold him the whole tale, once again…

He headed to his office to make a couple of calls, and came back to me to report:

“So, I checked with security. They got your message saying that you were in the stairwell, and they sent you a message asking if you were still in the stairwell, but they never heard back from you.”

“...Okay so, why wouldn’t they just check anyway? Anything could have happened, I could have been passed out in there for all you know, why didn’t anyone just radio someone nearby to open the door I specified and check? Not to mention that if your security line isn’t receiving my texts reliably, that’s a whole other issue. This is kind of fucked up!”

And the manager went full customer service mode,

“I’m so sorry about this, we’ll look into this right away, is there anything we can do for you, are you thirsty, have you eaten yet? Wait, who’s your favorite Sox player?”

I’m not really a Sox fan, I’m a ballpark tourist, but I just named the first Sox player to come to mind. Hot off the Tokyo Yakult Swallows in the NPB league in Japan…

“Murakami.”

“Anyone but Murakami, he’s too popular.”

“Look man, I’m not after merch or anything, I’m just trying to let you know what’s up with your security processes here.”

“And I hear you, but wait here a sec.”

He went back to his office, came out a moment later, and handed me a photo of a player, autographed, authenticated and verified with an MLB hologram sticker. I did not recognize who it was.

“Okay… cool… thanks.”

“Is there anything else we can do for you? Have you eaten yet?”

“...I still want the Cuban Sandwich.”

“Okay sure, but I’m not exactly sure where the nearest Cuban Sandwich stand is.”

“Well, that’s what the MLB Ballpark app is for!”

Moments later, we finally arrived at the illustrious Cuban Sandwich stand. A line was wrapped around it a couple of times over. There was one employee working the stand, pulling multiple duties, making the sandwiches, assembling the orders, and ringing them up. The line appeared glacial.

For a moment I thought that this important-looking emblazered man would use his managerial powers to get me to the front of the line so I can get my sandwich and try to enjoy the rest of the game…

We waited over half an hour in this line, forcing small talk between the fractional-steps forward we’d take every few minutes.

We eventually got to the front of the line, and knowing whatever I get is about to be comped, I just grab one of everything they offer: one Cuban Sandwich, one bag of Lay’s chips, and one can of Miller Lite. $40 or so in value.

Items finally in hand, I stood by and watched him and the concessions employee struggle back and forth to use their Official White Sox Staff card to comp the meal…

After a few minutes, they got it to work, the meal was paid for, and the manager handed me his card, asking me to send him a message if I plan to return.

“I’m coming back for Pope Hat day!”

“We’ll see you then!”

Cuban Sandwich finally in hand, I trekked back up to Level 500, and met my group at our seats.

“We thought they had to silence you.”

I took my seat.

It’s the top of the 8th inning.

The game was nearly over.

“Well, at least I got the Cuban Sandwich.”

It was a pretty damn good sandwich.