I’ve never been to Wrigley Field. I’ve chewed Wrigley’s gum, watched the ivy grow on the wall, but never walked into the park looked up at the marquee and thought,”This is it.”
I hear the hot dogs aren’t the greatest, but I can believe that watching the game, the hot dogs go down easy.
Is it because it’s an old park? Is it because of careful marketing that Wrigley has become such an institution? The beauty of baseball is part of the places they play. Unlike hockey where the arenas are essentially the same. A sheet of ice surrounded by 20 000 seats. It’s not much different anywhere you go. It used to be, The Forum in Montreal, Maple Leaf Gardens, The Spectrum and the Gardens in Boston was the seventh player on the ice, but not anymore. Perhaps Madison Square Gardens is the only one left.
No, I think that Cubs fans have something special. Not only do they have the privilage of watching the team play in a beautiful park, but I know even watching the games on television, it’s a chance for me to hang on three more hours to that part of my childhood when baseball was about the sun getting in my eyes or the floodlights illuminating the neighborhood in the background.
It’s funny how children change the perspective. I used to think I wanted to go to Wrigley and see the Cubs play. Now, I can wait, perfectly content to tune into WGN and watch the game. The only way I’d ever want to set foot at Wrigley is with my wife and our son to be there. I want to see our son’s eyes light up at the marquee and say to my wife,”This is it!” and singing off key at the top of our lungs,
“..and if they don’t win it’s a shame, cause it’s one, two, three strikes you’re out at the old ball game!”