ahhh...Wrigley...

The "w" flying high...


Ryno's number retired at Wrigley


Our view from the back...


He's a Cards fan, but he's wearing a cubs hat...he knows what up...




...where Ryne Sandberg spent all but one year of his major league career...where Harry Caray used to sing take me out to the ball game as the crowd stretched in the middle of the seventh...where the ivy grows to cover a brick wall. This is very hallowed ground.

It's not like an opportunity comes like this comes around very often. How many more chances will I have to take in a game at the great Wrigley Field. I simply hope this was not my last. There's an overwhelming feeling of tradition and history (not really a topic of high value on my dry erase board) as soon as you walk in to these confines which have always been so friendly for those who make the pilgrimage. The smell of hotdogs, cut grass, and beer...you may can get that at Fenway, but I guarantee you it's still a little different. I could've done without the smell of beer, but it probably wouldn't have been the same.

Our seats were as far away from the field as you could get, but in no way was I removed from the game. The other fans won't let that happen. It didn't matter if it was a single or a fly ball that had a chance of going out (no matter how small of a chance), the crowd showed it's appreciation by a grand applause. It truly is a glorious place...a glorious atmosphere.

And this is a place made by man a long time ago. I can only imagine what it's going to be like in heaven. The applause, the praise, the grandeur of it all. I'm excited that I'm going to get to be apart of that.

But for right now, I'm pretty happy with something kinda close...minus the beer.