The Cubs and construction season

It was my first trip to Chicago. Back in 1995. March, I think. Bone-bitingly cold. (Locals say they have only two seasons in ‘the windy city’: winter and construction season). A former girlfriend and I caught a train out to Wrigleyville because I wanted to see Wrigley Field, the legendary home of the Chicago Cubs baseball team.

It never occurred to me that winter and unlocked doors at a ballpark don’t necessarily play on the same team. We walked around looking for an opening. No, nah, not here, not there… ‘Wait a minute, what about this one?’ Good luck favours those who take gloves off and turn frigid handles. Yes, we were in. After a few steps along a dark hallway, we were stopped by a man wearing a construction hat. (He obviously didn’t adhere to local beliefs).

“What are you doing? How did you get in?” he asked.

I pointed at the door we’d entered through.

“Please, we’ve come all this way from Australia to see this place.”

The man paused and thought. He scratched his head, then nodded. The helmet nodded too.

“Ok, but don’t tell anyone. And once you’ve had a look, go out the way you came in. I’ll be locking the door in five minutes.”

He then guided us up and along a few twists and turns until…

Goodness, how the imagination can be stirred by empty seats. The taste of a hot dog, the crowd’s roar, the seventh inning stretch, a slide into second base.

I dared not step onto the turf. It wasn’t my turf to step onto. But my imagination took me out there. And what a game I played. Then, a few snaps for the album, some hurried steps, and back out onto the streets. A hefty man who was just a few burgers short of a coronary saw us leave.

“Did they win?” he asked.

Laughter dawdled behind him as he rolled away.

I’ve been a Cubs fan ever since.

STUDENT ACTIVITY

If you could be any sportsperson just for a day, who would you be? And what would you do? Could you tell a story about it?