A day at the cubbies game :: essays research papers

Growing up in the suburbs of Chicago and being a sports fan resulted in one and only true outcome; I am the Chicago Cubs’ biggest fan. True, I am not the only person in the greater Chicagoland area who will claim the title, but I stick to my guns and refuse to relinquish the self-appointed title. Every time I go home, I join the thousands of other self appointed â€Å"biggest fans† in the usual afternoon at Wrigley Field. There is nothing quite like a day at a Cubs game. For me, it’s a fun filled day of drinking watered down beer and eating cheap hot dogs and nachos with the guys. Yes, it may sound rather crude to many but to us, its bliss.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  The day usually starts early in the morning, an eight o’clock train into Chicago, with the throbbing pain of a hangover after being out too late the night before catching the game at the local sports bar. After the mochas and lattes have crested over the appropriate sets of lips the whole group perks up with anticipation over the days events. Players’ statistics are discussed, along with the usual hopeful, â€Å"Maybe Derek Lee will hit a grand slam today!† and, as always, Nate and Mike get into it at least once over whether Kerry Wood or Richard Prior is a better starting pitcher. Friendly jabs are exchanged in all directions, and by the time everyone agrees to disagree the train is pulling into Union Station and we’re one step closer to the game.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  After catching a taxi, the short ride to the ballpark takes far longer then it should due to the hundreds of cars that are assaulting the Wrigley Field parking lots and attacking the local traffic cops. As the taxi creeps impatiently up the street, edging closer and closer to the unmoving vehicle in front of it, Wrigley Field slowly climbs out of the Chicago skyline. A beautiful thing occurs every time this happens†¦silence! Mike, Nate, Nick, Andrew, and James have all stopped their usual â€Å"guy talk† to take in the glory of our team’s home field. The striking red brick of the building, with bold green ivy lazily climbing it’s walls, and the â€Å"WRIGLEY FIELD, Home of the CHICAGO CUBS† sign screaming out from the front, all receive the deserved moment of silence and respect they demand from all who walk within their walls.