28 June 2009
Cubs game: Overpriced, Completely Worth It Ballpark Dogs (Especially When They Win)
The last six times I have attended a Cubs game, they lost. I know this is a trend with the Cubbies, but frankly, I think I'm a losing charm. I never get to see them win. There was one time when the victory was glorious, but it was in Milwaukee against the Brewers, and the glory was overshadowed by wayyyyy too much Old Style. I believe I even drunk dialed my mother to shout "Cubs win! Cubs win!"
Let me explain. I don't really care about sports, and I don't generally care about team spirit or school spirit or any kind of competitive cheering you throw at me. I did my undergrad at a school whose mascot was the Cougars, and when I entered grad school at WSU, I soon realized that all anyone cared about was how the "Cougs" were doing. I really despise when people shorten/"cuten" words that roll off the tongue, and even more so when education is at stake. I've watched students walk into my classroom demanding special treatment because they are athletes, and I've watched poor, student loan laden peers struggle to work a couple of jobs while trying to make it through my classes, and I have to say, I'm not thrilled with the pat on the back athletes get. I'm going to hold back my tirade for now, but let's just say, the only *ONLY* sport I care about is baseball. More specifically, the Chicago Cubs.
The first time I ever stepped foot into Wrigley Field, it was like a magical experience. Even before I checked my ticket, the crowd outside was like a magical, enchanted forest of people who were excited to attend a game. There were songs, chants, dances and face paints that made me feel passionate. I went home the first time I ever attended a Cubs game, and I wrote four full, handwritten pages in my journal about the experience. I was a nerd at a very young age.
Yet the Cubs always lose, despite my passion for Wrigley, for Chicago and for baseball. Once my greatest friend ever (hi, Jason) and I sat during a heat wave and watched the Arizona Diamondbacks defeat the Cubs in a 14-2 margin. I cried. I believe I also had sunburn. I flew back to Pullman with a heavy heart.
Last year, if you recall, Ian and I were forced to leave Wrigley after 10,000 lightning strikes occurred in one hour and a massive tornado watch overtook the north end of Illinois. A microburst meant an interesting commute home, and I was bummed to not witness a Cubs miracle.
This year, we *won*. We were 7-0, losing to the Indians until in the latter innings the Cubs pulled off a comeback that was nothing short of miraculous. After several hotdogs (no ketchup, people! no friggin ketchup!!) and many plastic cups full of Old Style beer, I went home to my parents' house full and satisfied.
Ian and I not enjoying the humidity, but thoroughly enjoying the game.
Expensive Chicago dog: $4 but well worth the satisfaction. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.
W!!!! Display it proudly, Chicago!