The Field

We used to live in an apartment within walking distance of Wrigley Field.

This was back before Wrigley had lights so all of the games were played during the day. I was a Cubs fan as a kid and I went to many a game with my Mom's room-mate Annie and her boyfriend Rocco. One of the best days of my childhood was when my grandfather talked to his buddy, the legendary Cubs announcer Jack Brickhouse, and managed to get us out on to the field before a game. I will never forget the thrill of walking through the gate and past the guard near the dugout and being introduced to Pete Rose at the plate as he was warming up to take on my Cubs. He extended his hand and the vivid memory I have of that greeting is looking down my tiny arm to a lost hand swallowed at the wrist by the grip of the largest fist I've ever seen in my life.

For the most part we were Bleacher Bums and my love of baseball will forever be tied up in the memory of those afternoons spent at 1060 West Addison.

Now I live in New York and we have two teams here just like we had back in Chicago. I'm not a huge fan of either, but I've been to a couple of Mets games and I do like it when my home team wins. Last night Chris and I watched the opening game of the World Series at his place and ate some take-out and we saw the Yankees get their hats handed to them.

It ain't over till it's over and the fat lady hasn't sung yet--she barely seemed to warm her voice last night--but I'm looking forward to watching some baseball in the coming weeks and remembering the day my grandfather became my hero by walking me out on to the grass at Wrigley Field.