At the ol' ball game!

Just a couple of weeks ago, I was able to attend a church conference in South Bend, Indiana. I went with several other staff members from our church. We flew into Chicago, Illinois, on a Tuesday morning, spent the day driving around Chicago looking at the sites before driving the 90 miles to South Bend late Tuesday evening. By the way, Chicago is an absolute beautiful city! If you have never been... go. It's worth it. Make sure you visit the Navy Pier and walk down Michigan Avenue - amazing.

One of the things I had to do while in Chicago (I had never been before) was visit Wrigley Field. Now, for those of you who care nothing about sports, let alone baseball...let me briefly explain the significance of Wrigley Field. It isn't just the baseball home of the Chicago Cubs, it is one of the oldest sports stadiums in our country. It is a piece of "Americana". It is the "Mona Lisa" of ball parks. It is the "Romeo and Juliet" of sports history. It is a landmark - a classic - a place you tell your grandkids that you went...okay, catch my drift?

Obviously, I wanted to see Wrigley Field for the nostalgia...but my real reasons for visiting this place was a little more personal. You see, I root for the Cubs but I am not a Cub fanatic (that loyalty goes to the Red Sox - I know, right now the Indians are laying it to them). My Cubs memories go back to when I was a kid. Every summer, I would spend a lot of my days with my grandparents who lived in a little town in East Tennessee called Lenoir City (hee haw salute here!). I was the baby of 8 grandkids, so I got spoiled quite a bit. My grandfather, Billy McNabb, was retired and spent his days whittling under the large tree in the back yard, working on his beans and tomatoes in the garden, hanging out with his ol' buddies down at the laundry mat, and watching one of his favorite teams play every day - yep - you guessed it...the Chicago Cubs. I spent many days as a kid watching Cubs games with my Papaw. At that time, I really couldn't tell you the difference in a double play and a squeeze play....but I remember vividly watching my Papaw chew on his cigar (didn't smoke 'em, he chewed 'em), wear his baseball cap pulled down just over the top of his eyes, watch every play of the game, and make comments about every play (good and bad - some of which I cannot repeat here that would make my Granny yell at him for saying it in front of me...ha...that was funny to watch!).

On that day a few weeks ago when I figured out a way to sneak into Wrigley Field to take a few pictures - I thought about my Papaw. I thought about how much fun I had watching him watch the Cubs. I thought about how he'd cut that familiar grin at me and say "Think they're going to win it?" I thought about how he wouldn't believe that my feet were standing on the right field grass. For me, it wasn't just a trip to an old baseball field, but a journey through my memories. I was all by myself standing in the outfield of this great ball park with a smile on my face and a few tears in my eyes.

It was a quick moment, but one that I will never forget. As I turned around and began to leave the park, the workers were there re-sodding the grass. The security guard who let me sneak inside was standing by the door as I left. The Cubs were about to win the division and make it to the playoffs that week. As I walked out, I stopped...looked at the guard and asked with a grin, "Think they're going to win it?"