Thanks for the Memories...
There are more than a couple hundred players enshrined at Cooperstown and they are paid homage by something like 350,000 annual visitors to baseball’s Hall of Fame. At Wrigley Field a mere three Cubs have been immortalized in statuary and only half a dozen’s numbers flutter atop the foul poles. This Mecca draws in excess of three million pilgrims per season. Maybe Ron Santo was on to something when he listed the corner of Clark & Addison in Chicago as the address of his personal HOF.
Wednesday night my two sons and I were at the fringe of the mob assembled in the street to witness the unveiling of Santo in bronze, caught in the act of making an off-balance throw to nip a runner in a close play at first. I am no critic of the sculpting arts but I think the rendering of #10 is exquisite. The blue casts to the socks, cap and numerals; the facial likeness, the stitching on the ball about to be thrown – all are vivid. Justice was done to the fans’ memories.
An hour before the ceremony the three of us took a few meandering, strolling laps around the square block of Wrigley. On Waveland we staged a brief reenactment of the ritual game of catch we used to play there while ballhawking during batting practice on trips to Chicago when they were little leaguers. Now Max is 20 and Ben is 17. On Clark we detoured into McDonalds where the clubhouse attendant used to fetch a pair of Big Macs for Sammy Sosa after BP on game days. On Addison we tossed a few coins in the pail of the wheel-chaired beggar who’s been as permanent a fixture on our past visits as the statuary will be on future ones. On Sheffield a ball arced over the bleachers, ricocheted off of some landscaping ironwork and bounced directly to me with a small band of ballhawks in pursuit; a fitting memento of the occasion that I received in the spirit of a child opening a gift.
From our vantage point the remarks of the assembled dignitaries were mostly muffled. I did make out Pat Hughes repeating a laugh line we’d heard more clearly on the car radio as we drove into town that afternoon. He and Santo’s HOF teammates from the fabled ’69 team had keynoted a sold-out luncheon downtown that was broadcast by WGN. More importantly we did manage sightlines to the statue. After it was revealed and roundly approved we went inside and took up seats in the right-center field bleachers. While the Cubs fashioned one of their occasional victories we enjoyed dollar hot dogs and reminisced. Even cheaper was the glowing sunset that rang down upon the day's stage.
We left after eight, me and a couple of the grandsons of the guy I used to listen on the radio with when Santo was routinely making plays like the one immortalized now on the street corner. As we passed by on our way to the redline depot I was able to touch the cleats of someone who autographed mitts and caps for us when he was still able. The cheers boiling over the rim of the stadium just then reported on Carlos Marmol’s progress towards a fanning of the side in the 9th but I imagined them for someone else, some other time.
Awww shit, it's Tony Rizzle, my nizzle,
so hot at the plate that, you can damn near hear me sizzle.
Len and JD been calling me the main ingredient
and opposing pitchers know the IBB is just expedient.
And if the ump is a chump and I find myself down
0-2 I'll choke up, still make the pitcher look a clown;
got this lightning in my wrists, the pitch inside just can't 'cuff me,
hitting longballs up until we do the World Series Shuffle.
I just was looking at the Times Home page today, and was reading about (RIP) Prince. Didn't catch the Sports...
Yup to that. Also really unfortunate Soler just has not been able to grab this opportunity by the balls.
...and Kalish with the start over Soler. Wow.
With Heyward's injury/slow start, Soler's struggles, and injuries to Schwarber and Szczur -- it's a really good thing Fowler fell into the Cubs' lap. Like, a really, really good thing. I just really, really, really hope his name isn't one of the upcoming PED announcements.
I take heart that it's so early in the season that this is nothing but silliness. In fact, I'd be much more nervous doing this in September.
Heyward not starting tonight, Ramirez to Bereavement List, Patton up.
Awesome! Also, dammit! I just finished a Russell verse!
I’m Addison Russell, flashin’ leather and muscle
Hit a grounder up the middle, damn right ya better hustle
I don’t miss, you know this, my D is the dopest,
I’m lovin’ it and glovin’ it and shovelin’ it to Zobrist
Another twin killing, score it six-four-three
If I keep this up they’ll name another street for me
There ain’t no SS better than Russell
And I’m just here to do the World Series Shuffle
Addison Russell is the youngster with the hustle--
you couldn't make his game tighter if you cinched it in a bustle.
For the pinch you got La Stella and little Matty Szczur,
two real "gritty" fellas. And then there's the geezer,
grandpa Rossy, for when you need a team leader
or just a catch and throw guy, to keep the runners at first,
or to nab them on a pick off; he's got 'em mic'd in the shitter,
yeah, caught with their pants down
[MIKE D and MCA]: Like my boy ROBERT DURST!
E-man, you should stay away from the NY Times sports page today, based on your last comment
Save this post for late September please. Let us not taunt the Gods of "Cubbery" please.
They are waiting for us, and are apt to pounce at the slightest hint of positive projection.
Awesomeness - bravo!
Thanks. If there's anyone who knows anything about insightful comments, it's definitely you.
yeah, it's hard being me. i don't know why anyone would want to do it, but someone's gotta do it.
thanks for the insightful additions here and below you've made in this thread to The Crunch Reporter.
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