Imagine yourself behind the steering wheel of a 2010 Lexus ES 330 for a few moments – interstate 90, stretched out as far as the eye can see. Gas pedal to the mat, anxiously anticipating that first, glorious moment of seeing 9 of your favorite men skip over the white chalk line and trot out to their respective places on the field. Nothing can compare to that moment of sheer joy as the pitcher winds up and delivers a perfect strike to begin the game.
Baseball season is right around the corner and the countdown to seeing the Boys of Summer suit up this season is at 60 days. The anticipation is building daily.
While the old adage, “Everybody loves the Cubs,” is a relative statement, it rings true for a large group of people. It seems as though people love the Cubs as a team so much, they lose sight of the glorious structure that supports their love for this team and this sport.
That structure, of course, is Wrigley Field. To some, it is merely the place where the Cubs play half of their regular-season games, while to others it is the closest thing to heaven they will ever see. Heaven, with clear blue skies, perfectly manicured lawns, and deep brown dirt seems to be the perfect place for a ballpark.
Wrigley Field has a charm about it that hits you as soon as you see it from Addison Street. It is filled with rich history and great stories that would entertain a person for a lifetime. When the scoreboard lights up with “Go Cubs, go!” the excitement of going behind the walls of the stadium consumes you.
People say that Disney World is the happiest place on Earth, but I would like to politely disagree with them. Why waste your money on fairytales? Why entertain the false hope of having perfectly combed tresses and consistently flawless makeup, when you could spend it on learning the invaluable life lessons of patience, sportsmanship, and the proper technique for calling somebody out? I can tell you that Disney World is not that place.
Disney is filled with empty promises and stomachaches from consuming too much cotton candy. At least at Wrigley the stomachaches are from hot dogs and nachos.
When Ernie Banks dubbed Wrigley as “The Friendly Confines,” he could not have found a more perfect nickname for it. (That is, as long as you love baseball and do not go around looking for trouble.)
Day games at Wrigley are like nothing else on the planet. The colors and sounds of the game are amplified. The beauty and precision of the crisp foul lines and the groomed dirt of the infield are mesmerizing; it’s like a whole different world inside the ballpark. Everything happening in the outside world is of little consequence for that 2 1/2-3 hour glimpse of heaven. Your joy hangs on every move that your favorite player makes – he better not let you down.
If you are a Cubs fan in need of resorting to the sought-after “happy place” that many folks talk about, you should not have to look far. Wrigley Field is that happy place. (Unless, of course, your name is Steve Bartman or Milton Bradley.) Walking where legends have walked, sitting where they have hit foul balls and homeruns, and singing “Take Me Out To The Ball Game” during the seventh-inning stretch are incomparable joys that can cure almost dreary day. Wrigley Field is a special place.
The one, most important thing that makes Wrigley Field so special is the special bond it creates with loved ones. Sharing a fifteen-dollar helmet bowl of nachos with a close friend, heckling the opposing left fielder with your younger brother, discussing the likelihood of a go-ahead home run from Reed Johnson with your father, and getting a wink from Anthony Rizzo as he ducks into the dugout cannot be replicated anywhere else.
Wrigley Field is a happy place. There’s no place like home.