Wrigley, contd.

My father would take me to between five and ten White Sox games a year.  We always had hot dogs, but never at the game.  The game itself was the treat, and the only things I wanted or expected after that were a scorebook and some popcorn.  Then, after the game, we headed out in search of a new hotdog stand or cart to try.  My father was always on the lookout.

We followed this same tradition with Clare, who never complained at not having the cotton candy or nachos or licorice or…And let me tell you that one of my proudest achievements as a father was teaching my daughter how to score a game.  When she goes to the Cell now, people comment on her having this nearly-lost skill.  What, we should depend on the scoreboard, when it’s not playing a baseball version of the shell game?

I also remember taking the bus—actually, two—to Comiskey Park by myself once I reached high school; Michele took the bus and ‘L’ to Wrigley at the same age.  I can’t imagine any South Side parent doing that nowadays, and I wouldn’t bet on that many North Siders allowing it, either.  Times change.

But the older we get, the more we need things that stay relatively the same.  Hence, Wrigley Field.  Lucky are those parents who are like my father and want their kids to focus on the game.  Otherwise, look for the nearest ATM machine, because you’re gonna need it.  The cost of a baseball game could give college tuition a run for the money.

Here’s one difference between Wrigley and the Cell—we sat in perfect upper-deck seats on Monday; in the 25 years the Cell has been open, I have yet to sit in the upper deck.  Here’s why—the last row of seats in the upper deck behind home plate at Comiskey Park was closer to the field than the first row of seats in the upper deck behind home plate at the Cell.  This is an object lesson in new being different, not better.

And here’s another difference between the two parks—the concourse is wider at the Cell.  Generally, I’d say that’s a good thing in terms of crowd circulation, though I’d never cite it as a reason for tearing down a landmark the way the Sox did.  What I would do if I ever wake up to find myself inhabiting the body of Warren Buffet is build a new ballpark—with my own money, of course—that incorporated both load-bearing posts to bring the upper deck so close to the action, like at Wrigley and Fenway Park, and modern concourses.  Maybe an MLB owner will do that, someday.  Maybe.