Yesterday I attended the home opener of the Not-the-Cubs at Not-Wrigley-Field on the Not-Northside. The fun of a home-opener with 40,000 people, a few even sober, on a Spring afternoon with the sun out and temps around the mid-50's and the home team pulling out a victory is something we all should experience. We had seats just to the left of the left field foul pole (or is it the "fair pole?",) just a few yards away from where Joe Crede's grand slam in the seventh went out. The seats were also right next to the Not-the-Cubs bullpen, so I got to see just how fast these slingers can bring it. The cosmic POP of the Bobbie Jenks's fastball hitting the catcher's mitt is a special sound of the game.
The closer in baseball is like a prizefighter or a bullfighter ---one against many, with everything on the line----- Hemingway would love how this position has evolved.
I spent the third and fourth inning waiting in line for the mens room. Now I remember why I hated locker rooms in school ---the forced macho "comraderie" is
just out and out dumb. A friend told me he was in a mensroom during the eighth inning, when some guy offered the man next in line to pee $20 to take cuts. (He took it...)
So we all cheered for the Not-the Cubs in a wonderfully played game (even though they had just won three straight from my team, the Detroit Looking-for-the-Tigers.)
Oh well, 156 game to play. Come on, sunshine!
Forsake the "stadiums"! Shun the "Arenas"! It's almost summer; get to the PARK!
"Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go out and do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."
(Howard Thurman)
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