"You suck, Griffey!"
We got up reasonably early, got ourselves showered and organized, finished up some laundry and got on the road to Chicago. Driving and driving and driving up to the city...still corn. Where is it? Where's the sprawl?
Suddenly, the corn disappears and it's replaced by yummy! chemical plants! It would appear that the bulk of America's chemicals are produced between nowhere and Chicago.
Finally, I saw something familiar to me. Was it Chicago? NO! It was the gigantic chemical plant in Joliet, seen in the opening sequence of the Blues Brothers. Dawn was funny, saying that little kids riding in the car at night upon seeing this plant would say "mommy, is that Chicago?" I was doing that in the daylight.
We arrived at Jason's house around 5:30 or so. We unloaded, talked with Jason and his girlfriend Jen for awhile, and then we began the hustle down to Wrigley Field.
Jason drove us out of the burbs toward the El. As you turn onto a main road, you get your first view of Chicago proper from a distance. The Sears Tower has the same sort of omnipresence as the Washington Monument when you're in DC--sometimes, even in the most obscure and distant corner of the burbs, you can turn your head just right and squint and see the giant black tower.
We got to the EL station, bought transit cards, and hopped on. The El is much cleaner than the NYC subways. Atlanta could learn a great lesson from Chicago; the train lines extend well into the suburbs--and there are several train and other travel options--commuter lines, the El, buses--all pretty affordable.
I'd heard the train ride into Wrigley was fun, and it is--there's a buzz in the air. From the train, you see Wrigleyville's old buildings and fans milling about as you arrive near the park. We walked in and the sights and sounds of arguably the world's greatest ball park filled the senses.
Jason walked really fast--he really wanted to make batting practice, and we did. We took our seat in the bleachers, amongst the bums and then stood up to watch batting practice, hoping for a shot at a baseball. Several well hit balls came very near us, but we didn't luck out. It was fun to watch the players interact with the fans--particularly the Cincinatti players. They were taunting and teasing the bums with balls..will he throw it? won't he?
A couple of the more committed bums who very strictly maintain Wrigley rules tossed balls caught from Reds players back onto the playing field to resounding cheers .
Before game time, Dawn and I went out to fetch some food--the park isn't known for its food, actually, the Southsider's U.S. Cellular field is alleged to have better eats. We did get a couple of beers and a right decent bratwurst though! I enjoyed it. We got back to our seats. As we finished up our food, the inevitable happened. . . Dawn became ground zero for gull poop. She got beaned on the side of the face by one of Wrigley's nastiest inhabitants, a lake Michigan seagull.
Gross!
The game started. I paid most attention to Carlos Zambrano, the Cubs' great pitcher. He had a mediocre night--of course, he bookended this performance with two near no hitters...and to Ken Griffey, Jr. who, according to Cubs fans, 'Sucks.'
Which really means you don't suck, but you're good and you're keeping our team from winning. Therefore you suck to me. Anytime Griffey made a great play or got a good hit (he got on base most every time and launched a homer) he was reminded of his suckin'. He looked back at the bums a lot and was just kinda smilin'. He's pushing 600 homeruns and he's won a bunch of gold gloves. The guy knows he doesn't suck.
The Cubs fans know this too, and I think to tell a player from the opposition he sucks is a gesture of respect...if someone really sucked, why bother telling them? They know...
Late in the game, we had a Ronnie Woo sighting. I have to admit, I was not familiar with him and his mojo, but this guy is a very interesting story!
Apparently homeless and destitute, he makes his living being the world's greatest Cubs fan:
"Wickers is a celebrity around Wrigley Field, and he works the crowds as if he were the mayor of Wrigleyville. We won’t deny that to many Cubs constituents he is an irritation: his trademark call sounds like a sea gull in heat and he sings it relentlessly.
Woo Woo walks the stadium with his trademark chant "woo cubs!" "woo Lee!", in earlier years "Woo Sandberg!" The bleacher fans loved him--he signed autographs, got food and beer sent his way, got hugs from girls--he seemed to be really enjoying himself and enjoying cheering.
The Cubs were behind when he came into the bleachers, and his inspiration and cheerleading really seemed to turn the momentum of the game and the cubs came back a bit...
...Of course, they still lost.
There's no arguing with consistent mediocrity. Go Cubs!
We left the game and circled the stadium, taking a few pictures of the famous Wrigley Marquee.
Elwood: I'm gonna quit work first thing in the morning.
Jake: And how are you gonna get to work Mr Lead Foot, Mr Hot Rod, Mr Motor Head? Those cops took your license away. They got your name, your address.
Elwood: No they don't got my address. I falsified my renewal. I put 1060 West Addison.
Jake: 1060 West Addison? That's Wrigley Field.
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