I had a day off and I did what I sometimes do in a city: Buy a day pass for the transit and go where my nose leads me: It hasn’t led me wrong yet.
I jump on the “L” not far from my hotel and take the Loop. I like the Loop as it is a piece of history from way back in the 20’s. I was wondering where I might get off when I look out the window and see Wrigley Field. Never been there. Never done that.
I bought a seat in the nosebleed section down third base. It was the second game of a doubleheader between the Cubs and the Milwaukee Brewers. Now, most of you know I don’t follow baseball, but I do appreciate it, having been to Jarry Park wayback when and a few years ago, took in a Lynx game at Jetform Park. I have even been known to watch some of a baseball game, from time to time.
So, I went to Wrigley Field. Bought a beer, a hot dog, a soft pretzel and bag of peanuts. Got my keester comfy and watched Sammy Sosa and Frank McGriff hand out a pasting to the Brewers. When I left, in the 7th inning, it was 17 – 0 for the Cubs. That, to me, is a bad football game score, not to mention a horrendous baseball score.
Wrigley is history incarnate. It is ancient, with wonderful sight lines everywhere. You can see the ghosts of the 50’s and 60’s ball players running the bases in the sun. Men in fedoras, with their sleeves rolled up, ties askew, rooting on the Cubs and Ernie Banks while Harry Caray called the game on WGN. Cigar smoke, beer in cups, hot dogs, soft pretzels and peanuts.
Fifty years later, not much has changed. Kids still wear the jersey of their favourite player, lonely guys with pot bellies and acne scars still fill out perfect scorecards in the seats, while others hang with their buddies, discussing every nuance of the game in front of them. Not much has really changed.
Perhaps that is the joy of Wrigley Field. It is a time machine to a simpler time. Your team was the Cubs and your mood was tied to their fortunes. Tomorrow; The Billy Goat.