Go To The Ballpark

If you ever feel the need to restore your faith in humanity, go to the ballpark.   My husband and I went to Wrigley Field yesterday afternoon for an afternoon of baseball Northside Chicago style. The day started out rainy and gray but by the time the first pitch was thrown, the sun was shining and it was a beautiful afternoon for a baseball game.

As the ballpark filled and time grew closer to hearing the familiar words "Play Ball" shouted into a microphone by two very excited young boys in blue t-shirts, I began to notice a wonderful phenomenon happening all around me.   Fans and ushers alike offered to help couples and friends and families take pictures to commemorate their day at the game.  It was evident that the usher responsible for getting handicapped fans and visitors settled into their section to the right and left of our seats behind home plate loved his job.   This man smiled and laughed and rearranged seating to make sure each visitor would have the best experience possible and half-way through the game, he returned to check on his new friends, offering thumbs up as a sign that they were comfortable and enjoying the afternoon.


Strangers passed money along rows from buyers to vendors and passed back to purchasing fans bags of peanuts, bottles of water and cups of beer.  High fives were shared for a home run.  Cheers went up for a fan in the upper deck who caught a foul ball with his bare hands.

There was a capacity crowd at the ballpark yesterday. By and large, there was also a capacity of good will, kind gestures and mutual joy in sharing not only the love of the game, but a few hours of sunshine and hopefulness and release from the world outside the friendly confines.  Oh, and by the way . . . the Cubs won.