Think again if you assumed I was being a good son and taking my dad to the game on Father's day. However, I have a good excuse, kind of. I bought the tickets months ago originally as a birthday gift for my brother. His birthday was about three weeks ago, but these were the closest weekend tickets I could get to his birthday because the Cardinals and White Sox were the previous weekend series.
We get to Wrigley and I ask my brother whether he wants to sit in left or right field. He doesn't really care, so I tell him we should go to left, Alfonso Soriano will spend half the game looking at you, you can wave to him in the middle of the third inning, and he'll likely wave back.
We got there a little later than the last game I went to, and by that I mean we arrived about a half hour before the gates opened (2 hours before the start of the game). We wanted to sit in the front row, so we made our way all the way down to the left field foul pole. It was a beautiful view as always, and better than sitting a few rows up, because your view isn't cut off when the ball is hit to the wall.
Our section was the last in the bleachers to fill up, and my brother seemed to take offense to that. Are they idiots? This view is amazing, what's wrong with them? The people next to us tell him that this is always the last section to fill up.
One of the more fun things we did while waiting for the game to start was discuss how we could get on TV. The most obvious way would be to make a sign. The two best signs we could come up with: "We ditched our dad to go to the Cubs game," and "Growing up, the Cubs were my father." Both would have been great signs, in my opinion, especially the second one. Although I'm not sure they'd show that second one on TV.
We both have World Cup fever, so we were thinking that if one of the Angles hit a home run to left or at least a double, we could raise our hands on our head, lean back and scream, like a soccer player after missing an easy chance.
Another moment that made me proud was my brother's reaction to about two rows of Red Sox fans who showed up in all Red Sox gear, and were sitting down the left field line. Like me, my brother assumes everyone from the Northeast is rich, and a douche bag. He complained that those rich douche bags were taking up good seats from the real fans. The dad of the group also spent the entire game on his cell phone, to which my brother replied, "I know he's an investment banker and has business to take care of, but he can give it a rest for a few hours." Couldn't have said it better myself.
As far as the game goes, there was really too much scoring to recount here. I remember that the game was over in the 3rd inning, once we scored our 8th run. My brother and I went back and forth before deciding on 6 runs being the line which Zambrano wouldn't be able to blow. Truth be told, there was never a doubt in my mind that the Cubs would win, even though they dropped the first two games to the Angels by a total of 13 runs. They've made a habit of losing the first two games of the series and then winning the third.
Sitting on the train on our way back home, an entire family sits behind us, all of them drunk. The dad says how happy he is to see Soto play well because he's always loved him. "He's such a nice guy, too," the dad says. Ten minutes later he reiterates his statement, "Wasn't it nice to see Soto out there though? I'm so happy for that guy."
In the 7th innings I broke one of my cardinal rules: Do not take part in anything that will cause you to miss any of the game. In order to break this rule I had to break another cardinal rule: Do not consume more than two beverages at a game that does not have a halftime. Two beverages I'm ok, three and I need to take a piss and won't be able to hold it in because it's all I'll be thinking about.
So after the 6th ends, I head to the bathroom, hoping I won't miss too much. I've eternally thankful that they've decided to install urinals for reasons I don't care to go into. By the time i make it back to our seats, the bases are loaded with one out. My brother informs me that Zambrano gave up three singles and struck out one. Juan Rivera pinch hits for the pitcher and grounds into a double play. At least I didn't miss the important part.
I realized that sitting in the front row isn't all it's cracked up to be. The last game I was at, I noticed that the guy in the front row kept leaning back and hitting me in the knees. I chalked it up to the guy being a jackass and drinking too much. I was wrong. It's really difficult to not lean back when you're sitting in the front row. I think it has something to do with grabbing the railing or something like that. Either way, if someone in the front row continually leans back into you, give them a break.
As an added bonus, Lou brought in Andrew Cashner and Carlos Marmol for the 8th and 9th because they hadn't pitched in a while. Losing 12-0 in the previous game will do that to you. I believe I said it last time, but I'll say it again. Even from the bleachers, Marmol's slider caused my knees to bend. You truly have some incredible movement if you can notice it from 350 feet away.
It was a great Father's Day, for two sons at least.
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