Origins

There is a great deal that I have enjoyed about fatherhood and I expect and hope that there will be much, much more down the road. My work week flies by as I anticipate weekend trips to the zoo, the Smithsonian museums, the two campuses of the National Aquarium, or other places offered by this city and Baltimore. But tonight, something new and even more exciting: I purchased our first tickets to Wrigley.

I am not terribly enthusiastic about the prospects of the 2010 season for the Cubs. Last year's team left real bitterness for Cubs' fans around the country, including myself. Signing Milton Bradley was cynical, but putting Bradley out in front of the raving drunken yuppie idiots that now populate the bleachers is particularly unforgivable because the front office did not back their guy when things fell apart.

Weirdly, reading Kevin Kaduk's "Wrigleyworld" (which should have been subtitled "Watching Baseball with D-bags" rather than "A Season in Baseball's Best Neighborhood") stoked my excitement for bringing my daughter to Wrigley. Kaduk's book confirms what is glaringly obvious to anyone who has visited the stadium in the last five years; the days of going as a kid to the bleachers and hanging out on a summer day on a meager allowance are long, long past and ain't coming back. But the stadium is still there. And although inebriated Board of Trade employees and their ilk may have changed the feel of the place a bit, they've not change its essential character.

So, no bleachers. But Terrace Infield Box seats are a nice booby prize and I can't wait. Hope springs eternal.