An abk Summer Day in Chicago

It could have easily been the pizza at local favorite Pequod’s Pizza, but it wasn’t.

It could have easily been the family boat ride on Lake Michigan, but it wasn’t.

It could have easily been the beautiful skyline views, but it wasn’t.

It could have easily been the 90th minute winner at Soldier Field, but it wasn’t.

It could have easily been the 36 hole walk at North Shore Country Club, eating, drinking, making birdies and new friends, but it wasn’t.

It could have easily been taking my kids, one in my arm and one by my side, into a liquor store on the north side of Chicago to get Mama a bottle of wine, but it wasn’t. (But it was close.)

No, without a shadow of a doubt, the moment of the trip was Wrigley Field. Red Sox at Cubs. Sunday afternoon. 1:20pm first pitch. Perfect weather. When the two gentlemen, one playing acoustic guitar and one playing saxophone, started playing God Bless America, it was on. When the 35,000+, myself included, started singing along, it was really on. I looked down at my son and thought, It just doesn’t get any better.

Roughly two hours earlier, minutes after parking in some secret garage that made me wonder if the car was going to still be there after the game, I saw a sign that read Kids Run the Bases Today. Intrigued, we set off on a mission to make this happen. When we arrived to the sign up area, we were greeted with corn hole boards and a giant television showing the Wimbledon final. We played. We watched. We signed up. Then it was time to enter the cathedral.

The first order of business was to get a Cubs hat. Next, a program. Next, Chicago hot dogs.

If we were going to do a Cubs game, then we were going to do it right. At first glimpse, I was in love. The atmosphere was buzzing. It was a perfect mix of old school and modern. Hell, as an homage to the history of the game, I scored the game real time on a paper scorecard. I felt like it was 1950.

But the stars of the show were the two musicians that got the party started. Their rendition of God Bless America and The Star Spangled Banner, accompanied by all of us, brought chills to my arms and tears to my eyes. When done correctly, they are still the best hype songs to get the action underway correctly.

In a remarkable coincidence, the Cubs starting pitcher was from Lucedale, Mississippi, a town 45 minutes from where we live. Unfortunately, he got rocked. We saw multiple home runs, a grand slam, and before we knew it the score was 11-0 Red Sox. On the flip side, the Sox pitcher was brilliant, striking out nine and only giving up one hit. The pitching legend Rick Sutcliffe led us in Take Me Out to the Ballgame, and then things got a little weird for the last two innings.

I had told Christy that we would be back around a certain time, and at this point, we were right on schedule. But inexplicably, the last two innings featured a pitcher’s first outing in the major leagues, five runs that didn’t matter, and a backup catcher throwing 35mph lob balls from the mound, a la The Floater from the movie Rookie of the Year. Entertaining, yes. Time consuming, also yes. I mean, my son still had the bases to run.

An hour later, it was time to go down on the field, a tittilating, yet chaotic experience for sure. What a wonderfully surprising way to end what was already such a great experience, a true modern throwback of a day.

Big Tony (not his real name) at the liquor store looked at me with a puzzled look. Hey! What’s going on here? He was referring to the one year old in my arm, the eight year old by my side, and the twist top bottle of wine fancy enough for an I’m late apology but not too fancy to be drunk from a hotel plastic cup in my right hand.

Here’s the situation, I said. Me and my boy just went to the Cubs game earlier while Mama stayed with this one. The game went a little longer than anticipated, and then he got to go down on the field and run the bases. Mama is slightly annoyed, so here we are. Please help.

As if Big Tony and I had known each other for decades, he laughed, rang me up, and asked me if it was worth it. Before I could say a word, my son emphatically answered Yes, and that was that.

I thanked the clerk for his understanding as I giggled to myself. Who knew that an already epic day would now have a new ending? Instead of finishing when my son touched home plate at Wrigley, the story would now end at a liquor store on the north side of Chicago.

With one child in my arm and one child by my side.

Have a great week.-Benj

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