By fortunate accident, I ended up in Scouts' Row at Wrigley Field for the 2009/09/01/Game with Houston. And, yeah, that's Jerry Krause - the architect of the rise and fall of the Chicago Bulls in
the 1990s

So when I finally got to my seats at the Church of Baseball – Wrigley, I ended up sitting in the denomination’s front office seats along Scouts’ Row. Section 22, Aisle 6.

“Ended up sitting?” Yeah, ended up sitting. “End” would imply a journey, and the implication would be correct because in this case, the journey was even more fun than the destination.

We got to the city early enough so me and mama Finn started to walk to the stadium. Save a little on the cab fare, get in a little walk.

When we caught the taxi, we ended up getting into the place in fine fashion. Dropped off at Clark and Addison, right at the footsteps of the Cathedral.

There wasn’t a wait at Will Call so picking up the tickets should be a snap. And they were, right up to the point where they didn’t say they have my tickets.

After they said they didn’t have my tickets, I had to show them ID and give them my order confirmation. That’s when they told me that my tickets were for the previous night’s game.

So I rolled on over to the next window and asked if they had tickets for the night’s game. The ticket vendor said, “How ’bout 6 rows behind home plate.”

And that’s how I got in scout’s rows at the the Church of Baeball – Wrigley.

To Recap…

I went to Church of Baseball – Wrigley to watch a game

Church of Baseball - Wrigley, preparing for the night's game

The Church of Baseball – Wrigley’s Field looked immaculate

The Church of Baseball - Wrigley looks ready for the festivities

I thought I bought tickets for this section

This is where the seats were for the first set of tickets I bought

I ended up buying seats with this view

This is the view I ended up having - first pitch

I would show more pictures, but the battery in my iPhone 3G died. Great smartphone; not-so-great battery life.

So by fortunate accident, I had a great seat at the Church of Baseball – Wrigley. It cost twice as much, but life blues that way from time to time.

Now it’s time to prepare for Ft. Myers, Margaritaville.

Anybody else buy tickets for the wrong night?

I’m distracted, frazzled. Procrastinating. Afraid of taking the next few necessary steps to get my my publishing career on track.

In three days I get to attend the home Church of Baseball – Wrigley. Some people go to places to laugh and experience. I usually like to go to places to screw my head on straight.

Like the Church of Baseball – Wrigley.

Speaking of places where to screw my head on straight, I bought my tickets for Ft. Myers, Margaritaville. Need to inform the office. I think I’m going to be there a day longer this year. And that’s okay.

Once I’ve finished at the Church of Baseball – Wrigley, I’ll be preparing for my pilgrimage.

And then year starts anew.

Life sent me to Chicago this past weekend. A lifetime love had me, my sister, and part-Cassidy sharing good times while sitting in pampered club seats at a baseball game Saturday.

It started last Tuesday night when I was playing co-ed softball for the company. Being 40 lbs. overweight & 8 months from the gym away from playing the way I know I can didn’t keep my instincts from becoming heightened when the cooled humid sundown breeze kissed my face as I jogged onto the field. As if awakened from a coma, I remembered why I loved the game.

Spend enough time in an office without fresh outdoor air & the body starts to shut down. As if caved in hibernation, the body waits to get back outside and into the heart of a day.

I take walks at night, but when you spend most of your life being athletic n fiercely competitive, the body runs on minimum systems during even long walks.

But once I was out on the field, hearing the limestone crush under my spikes as that soft breeze whisked by me, my body slowly opened up an eye to look around an see what was going on.

The following Wednesday morning after the softball game, my athletic instincts remained alerted when my sister called, suggesting we go to a game while I’m up in the City. Her suggestion resonated with my instincts & I bought tickets within minutes.

The downside was that the Church of Baseball denomination I am a member of was in Colorado for the weekend, so we went to the other church because they were the one in town. But to make myself feel better I also made reservations for the next time my Baseball Mecca is in town.

And it was great, theraputic times. Once the Red Line stopped at our destination, my sister & I stepped out to see that part-Cassidy was in the car ahead if us. And the rest if the night was as harmonious.

From the newfound synergy between my sister & part-Cassidy to the Tamale Man finding us at Lottie’s as if he heard my sister’s calls, the night flowed together like an old Blues song. That’s what a Summer night in the City of Blues is like.

The only potential downside might be that my sister & part-Cassidy might have gotten spoiled by the club seats: air-conditioning, servers, lounges… And now that they’re FaceBook friends I probably won’t be able get away with that dig (or this one.)

As part-Cassidy just text me, I don’t want this summer to end.