Weather Report

If Chicago’s weather ever turns resort-like, it happens in September and October.  Hot becomes warm, and nighttime sticky feels cool with earlier sunsets; the sun visits for weeks at a time without too much rain.  If it weren’t for all the yellow-jackets on the prowl for targets to sting, you would think like Shoeless Joe Jackson that such a place could be heaven.

Baseball also feels different these last weeks of the season; the approaching end typically means the planning for next year has already begun.  Deacon Jones gets his cup of September coffee, and Luis Andujar, too.  They could’ve gone on to become stars, and, if not them, then the hopefuls brought up next September and the one after.  You know, Deacon hit .409 with Dubuque in 1956.  It was too bad about that shoulder injury.  He still looked good that time at saw him against the Orioles on a September Sunday in 1966.

With October, you know the run of good weather can’t go on indefinitely.  November will come, bringing far nastier months in its wake.  You treasure watching what few games remain on the schedule and rejoice at the extra ones the result of your team making the playoffs.  Damn’ Cub fans, so lucky.