Let’s be honest. If there’s one thing worse than Heidi Montag’s 19-surgery day, it’s the Chicago Cubs. They are the epitome of the laugh factor inside the MLB and have been since their last championship in 1908. Yes, 1908 – twenty-two years after Henry Ford invented his first horseless carriage, aka car. So a long ass time ago.
Rather than dwell on the negativity of all things Cubs, because Lord knows that’s been done in overabundance, I’ve decided to take the high road or positive approach if you will, and talk about the lone admirable part of the franchise – Wrigley Field. It’s not like fans can boast about a recent pennant chase but they can sure as hell boast about their ballpark. I’ve been to my fair share of ballparks, but none do I love more than Wrigley. There’s a funny thing about Wrigley – it’s all about baseball. I hate to state the obvious, but not all ballparks are created equal. Not by any means. And it seems this one, which spews history off every baseline, was created for the truest of baseball fans.
Last week I went to an Astros game and my seats were behind this cute little suburbia-esque family. The dad was sporting his bright white Reebok high-tops, Lance Berkman jersey and jean shorts, and the mom had her Ralph Lauren nautical themed polo neatly tucked into her pleated khaki slacks with their son and daughter sitting between the two of them. The little girl asked, “Daddy, when is halftime? I have to go potty!” It was kind of cute and funny until the reality of what she said sank in and I felt a pit in my stomach. It was cute and innocent that she asked when halftime was AT A BASEBALL GAME, but her dad’s response was anything but cute and innocent.
