A Bad Day at Wrigley is Better Than a Good Day in Prison

First, let’s get something out of the way. I’ve never been to prison. So when I say that a bad day at Wrigley is better than a good day in prison, my only prison experience is entirely based on The Shawshank Redemption. Still, I feel like my argument has merit.

The Wrigley I’m referring to, for those who are not baseball fans — or even acquaintances — is Wrigley Field in Chicago. Home of the Cubs. Cubs Park. The Friendly Confines. Or Weeghman Stadium, if you just time traveled in from 1914. The historic park has been home to the Chicago Cubs for over 100 years, and I’ve been going to games there since 1974.

I still remember the first game I went to at Wrigley. My grandfather sat next to me and helped me fill out my scorecard. If you’re not familiar, in the Olden Days they used to hand you a paper scorecard as you moved through the gates. You kept track of the runs, hits, errors, and other minutiae of the game, recording it all on your little card. If you’re wondering, yes, they had a scoreboard back then, and no, we did not get paid for our work. It was just fun. I still don’t really understand what constitutes an error, but I’ll search it later. And then I’ll probably forget again. Or they’ll change the rules. Ahhh, baseball.

The last game I attended was last Saturday, for my birthday (if you’re playing Hacker Bingo, go ahead and mark that square now). My family and I made the long-ish drive from the suburbs, navigating lower Wacker Drive as confusedly as the rest of Chicago. The Cubbies lost to the Nationals that day, 5-1. And that’s always the first question people ask me when I say I spent the day at a Cubs game. “Did they win?” Which I suppose is natural. And of course I care if they win or lose, my preference being the win. But my response to the question is always, “It doesn’t matter, because any day at Wrigley is a good day.”

You can probably say that about a lot of things, but just speaking about Wrigley Field, my reasons are several.

First, I can never get over just being in the stadium. It’s a significant piece of history. Seeing the original steel beams, the field itself, and (I suspect) one of the original custodians from 1914 is a thrill. That painted-over wad of gum stuck on that girder? History! There is one holdover from another era that could stand a refresh: the pee trough in the men’s room. Never a thrill, but hey; more history. Communal peeing.

Then there’s the feeling. Before you even get to Wrigley, there’s a palpable vibration in the air. It comes off the people walking to the stadium. You can sense it in the streets. Even the trees seem to be excited. There’s a game today! The Cubbies are playing!You can feel something similar in other ballparks, too. Dodger Stadium has its own vibration, so did Old Comiskey Park. Baseball offers a vibe, if you’re catching my drift (it was a pop fly, hard to miss). But there’s something different about the environment that Addison, Clark, Waveland, and Sheffield surround. When you’re there, it’s going to be a good day.

The ivy in the outfield. The bleachers across the street. The organ music. Filling up a tray with giant pickle spears from the hot dog condiment station. Neon relish and cold beer. There’s a lot to take in.

And yet, we lost. I suppose that could count as a bad day. No W flag flying, no banners. No Go, Cubs, Gosong. But spending the day at The Friendly Confines isn’t about the win — although that’s always a bonus. Some might say it’s a goal. I don’t disagree (I mean come on, guys,it was the Washington Nationals for chrissakes).

There have been uncomfortable winning days, too. Take this past April when none of us could feel our knees for the chilly Lake Michigan air flowing around them. Yet we stayed. We stuck it out and were rewarded with a Cubs win. A bad day? A frozen day. I’ve been to the Arctic and I had some pretty good days there, too.

In the end, a day at Wrigley beats a lot of other days doing other things, hanging out in the Shawshank Prison library being one of them. Come to think of it, it beats most days outside of prison, too.