Baseball, Not the Mall

I'm sure I've mentioned it on ye ol' blog before, but Kev is a rampant Sox fan. Rabid. Hates the Cubs. Won't wear blue to Wrigley. Ironically, both Cubs games at Wrigley that he's attended this year, they've won. I think he is secretly their lucky charm, but I digress. We live in the city, and we are fortunate enough to attend baseball games frequently.

While I rarely sit and watch a baseball game at home, I love going to the stadium. I love the noise, the collective gasps of the crowd. I love being outside, in the open air. I guess what it really comes down to is that I love the tradition of baseball. In my mind, my grandparents, my parents, myself, and hopefully, my kids will all have a very similar experience or memory when attending games. Maybe we keep score. Maybe we eat peanuts. Probably, we eat a hot dog. Ideally, the Cubs don't choke.

One thing I love about Wrigley Field as it is today is that it preserves my time capsule of baseball memories. When you look around, you don't see more screens with ads. You mostly see the field. A scoreboard that requires you do actual math to figure out the score and that you actually pay attention, because there is no instant replay. Just by nature of being at Wrigley, you get away from the technointerference that can so permeate our world and chill. It is the antithesis to U.S. Cellular Field, which is covered in ads and at times feels like a mall with a baseball diamond.

I know that change is inevitable, and for the most part, I'm okay with Wrigley being renovated. Honestly, I think they should keep the red marquee in the front and replay the ivy. However, I think the old, green scoreboard needs to say. It is updated by hand, and mercifully free of all the electronic clutter that clouds the rest of my life. Plans are already in the works to add a jumbotron, and I'm going to cry. Sometimes, a baseball game should just be a baseball game. Taking away the old scoreboard just feels like another place where I can't escape technology when I need to. Sometimes, low-tech is better than high.