Good Sports
by Budd Glassberg
Reprinted
with permission from the Zionsville Times Sentinel on May 9, 2007
The Cubs Complied (part 2 of
2)
Last week this column chronicled the
April 25 journey of my daughter Elle and me to Wrigley Field in
Once the game began, routine conversation ceased and I became the baseball maven mentor to my daughter’s part as the young inquisitive apprentice. As the wizard of baseball lore, statistics and general savvy, I versed my student on the finer aspects of a game that can only be appreciated once the nuances are pointed out by another. Elle, ever the anthropologist, made a quick study of the fans as well as the group dynamics of fans peculiar to the Wrigley Field crowd. We were engrossed in the subtleties and ever expanding amount of activity going on around us on and between each pitch. The magic had begun.
For three and a half innings, neither team scored, but there were plenty of opportunities for me to point out the lore of the game. In the first inning, Cub shortstop Ryan Theriot was called out for hitting the ball, running and then hitting the ball with his bat a second time in fair territory. Sweet Lou Piniella, Cub manager, made a half-hearted attempt at arguing the call, but calmly strolled back to the dugout. After each single, I instructed Elle to watch the second baseman and shortstop between each pitch signal each other as to who would cover second base should the runner try to steal it.
Finally, in the bottom of the fourth inning, the Cubs broke through for five runs with an offensive display that was reminiscent of the Boys of Zimmer in 1989. Elle was swept up in the frenzy of the rally and responded like a veteran die-hard Cub fan. The emotion we felt from this kind of scoring spree is as close as one may ever get to pure joy.
Despite fine pitching by Cub Ted Lilly, the Brewers scored twice in the fifth. The Cubs responded with a run in the bottom of that inning and held the 6-2 lead through the top of the seventh inning.
Michael Keaton sang “Take me out to the ballgame” before the bottom of the seventh inning. I looked at Elle as she shivered from the cold winds. I asked her if she would like to leave as the lead looked like it would hold up and I knew how cold she was. What happened next brought me such delight. It was evident from her response that she indeed was laced liberally with my genes. She looked at me as though I’d lost my mind. “No Dad. The game is still going on.”
I made a trip to the rest room and on my way back to our seats I saw Cliff Floyd, Cub left fielder, had doubled with two men on. As both runners scored I looked to our seats to see Elle on her feet, applauding with gloved hands and giving a yell. She was hooked. It brought pleasure to my heart to know she is one of us.
We spent the next two innings
watching from the front row of the upper deck, witnessing a home run by
Milwaukee hit onto Waveland Avenue, thrown back into the park by someone on the
street. Elle was amused at the Cub
tradition of throwing back, onto the field, home run balls hit by opposing
teams. Even I was surprised to see it
thrown back from someone not even inside the park. Unfortunately, the ball did not land on the
field. Instead it found its way in the
seats along the third base line. From
that moment until the game ended, the
Barely able to bend my frozen fingers around the steering wheel, I maneuvered my vehicle out of its easy-out space and with the heater full blast it took fifteen minutes for our bodies to warm up. Soon we both forgot how cold and wet we were during the ballgame. Neither of us will soon forget the magic time we spent together that afternoon. We could not have planned a better time together and that in itself is a blessing for which I will always be grateful.
Budd Glassberg is a resident of Zionsville who is active in the local running community. Visit www.runz.com for reprints of all his columns. You can reach him by email at budd@runz.com.