The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

 I belonged to a group that wanted to save Comiskey Park, in the way that Fenway has been and Wrigley most likely will be.  We argued history—the first All-Star game, Larry Doby breaking the color line in the American League, Joe Louis winning the heavyweight title—along with policy—if welfare is bad, it’s especially bad for professional sports’ franchises—and design—the upper deck at Comiskey virtually hovered over the field of play.  But all critics wanted to talk about was obstructed views and trough urinals.

When the park came down in 1991, I spent a couple of very unhappy seasons rooting against the White Sox.  Then Clare came along.  What was I supposed to do, sit her down and pass along my grudges?  So, I let it go in order to be a good father and fan.

On Wednesday, Clare took her Oak Park kids on a field trip to a day game at the Cell.  They had what are known as “nosebleed seats.”  Clare told me, “We were so high up the sound was different,” maybe because the crack of the bat travels more out than up.  “And I couldn’t see the scoreboard.  It was like watching the game at home.”  Why?  “Because there was no sense you were there.”

I delicately suggested that Wrigley Field was a better place for the serious fan to watch a game, and my daughter agreed.  Let it be noted that architect Zachary Taylor Davis designed both real Chicago ballparks.