Mace’s Place

Today, the Cubs traded catcher and my favorite Cub, Michael Barrett. Mike, we’ve been through a lot of good times together. Most notably, and the event you’re probably most known for, I was sitting in right field at The Cell when you drilled A.J. in the face. When the Cubs looked miserable all season and showed no signs of even trying, you weren’t going to let the White Sox literally bowl you over. Even recently when you got into it with Zambrano, you didn’t back down when that headcase started whining to you about a throwing error. Don’t worry, everyone knows who was to blame in that mess… it wasn’t you that gave up hit after hit, blowing the game wide open. When I saw you point to the scoreboard, I said, “that’s my guy.” There have been numerous other times that stand out in my head: going to games and being pissed when I’d learn that Blanco was in the lineup that day; telling my friend Melissa that you and her could be brother and sister (I think she had/has the hots for you); and mainly just coming through when I was sitting in the stands. It didn’t matter if you were slumping or on fire, it always seemed that if I was in the park, you were getting hits that day. Michael, you will be missed by many, not only because of your bat but because of your passion. Cubs fans will show up to the park because it’s the trendy thing to do. Baseball fans show up to watch a hard-fought battle on the field. I hope San Diego gives you more respect than you received in Chicago, you deserve it. Best of luck, #8.

I’ll share some more stories and things later, but all you really care about are the photos

I know my friends and family enjoy my lovely city stories… well here’s another for you all. Yesterday, I was on my way to my friend Ted’s birthday party which was a pick-up softball game at one of the Chicago parks. It wasn’t in a convenient location so I needed to take a couple modes of transportation; bus and cab. Anyway, the bus was the Broadway 36 bus, a true favorite of mine. The 36 has quite the assortment of people on it all throughout the day. Starting downtown and heading north, it picks up Gold Coast/Lincoln Park yuppies, Boystown regulars, Uptown crazies and anything else you can think of along the way. Sitting there with my cleats and glove, I just panned the bus, checking out the daily riders. I thought the highlight was going to be the cranky, not a hair over 5′ lady who couldn’t keep her mouth shut at the front of the bus. She was very opinionated and had a dash of Tourette’s to make it interesting. No friends, I was wrong. The lollypop kid wasn’t the star of the bus. Instead, it was a rather large man who sat quietly across from me. He didn’t say a word, just sat with his right leg up on the back of the seat in front of him. He wasn’t very well-to-do and his clothes had holes… including the crotch of his jeans. At first glance, I thought maybe his underwear were hanging out, but no. No man has skin-colored underwear, especially this guy. He had no underwear. Not only was he sitting on the seat but so was his sack. On Chicago’s fine CTA public transportation, I have seen pee and poo, nipples and butt cracks, pot being smoked, a man threaten another with a gun, and a whole lot more. I’m quite proud that I now get to add testicles to the list.