For those of you who watched the Chicago Cubs game on Thursday night knowing that I was there with Josiah, you may have felt a little bad for me.  After all I had traveled all that way to watch the Cubs, only to see every infielder make an error, only to see seven unearned runs, only to see the Cubs get spanked in a 10-3 loss.  I had a great time!

First I had a great time because I was with Josiah.  We just don’t get to spend enough time together, with my busy schedule and his starting college and living in the dorms I have really been missing spending some time together.  No matter what the score of the game, it was great just to be with him.  Second, it was great to be at Wrigley.  Sure, our seats weren’t the greatest, and I had to lean out to look around a pole in order to see home plate, but I still say that there is no better place in the world to watch a game than Wrigley.  It was a cool Chicago night and the place was packed with Cub fans (nary a Dodger’s cap or shirt to be seen) who wanted nothing more than to see their team draw even in the series.  The ivy was starting to turn, and the rooftops were packed, in what many hoped would be a chance for the Cubs to draw even in the series.  Wrigley field, est. 1914, is a real baseball field (even though they have added lights), not some carpeted cement dome.

Third I had a great time going back to see the place where we lived while I was working on my Ph.D.  I took Josiah back to his old first-grade school and he said “I remember it being a lot bigger.” A typical memory I think.  In a candy store that we frequented he remembered that one day when he was five I had refused to let him get a bag of “Big League Chew” chewing gum (maybe I thought it would lead to chewing tobacco) so I bought him a package to wipe that memory away.  I remembered playing ball with Charity and Josiah out in a back yard that now looks overgrown and yes, much smaller.

Mostly, it was a wonderful time because it seems like such a crazy thing to do.  To fly halfway across the country to see one game, who does something like that?  A crazy person.  My hope is that in fifty years, when Josiah is telling stories to his grandchildren, he will remember to tell them that yes, sometimes his dad was busy because of the ministry, sometimes he had to miss a few things because of the church, but there were other times . . . and then he will launch into the tale about the time he and his old man flew to Chicago to watch the Cubs play in one playoff game. 

Those are great memories.  The score doesn’t matter, it’s the trip, . . . it’s the game, . . .  it’s the memories.  Don’t let the score scare you, sometimes you just need to take off and go to the game.