It's All History
by Stephanie Fravel
The remaining base runners hustle back into the Cubs dugout in between the second and third innings of what could be their last game of the season. A packed Wrigley field is filled with hot and steaming Cubs fans – all of whom are determined this would be the year the team will make it all the way to the World Series. Even the bleachers are full at this game. The usual hecklers are present, ready to be a part of Cubs history.
“Ain’t it sad ‘dis the last season with Yankee stadium?” a man asks his co-hort.
“Yeah, yeah so sad it’s exactly whad I’m thinkin’ about,” he swigs Miller Light. “What da fuck I care?”
“Hey you a baseball fan ain’t ya?”
“Yeah but whadda fuck I care for da Yankees?”
“History, man. It’s history.”
“Yeah fuck the Yankees and their stadium,” he glances at the manual score board. “They probably gonna tear dis piece a shit down too.”
“Ain’t nobody gonna touch Wrigley.”
He turns to finally face his friend. “Why you think they getting’ rid a Yankee Stadium? S’about money, man. Fuck history when someone’s makin a buck.”
“All I’m sayin’ is it’s sad.”
“Yeah, yeah, sad, sad and you’s the one cryin’ when they got ridda Sosa, too.”
He laughs and gulps some beer. “Now fuck Sosa. History or no history – that man a baby.”
“D LEE YOU MAKE THAT CATCH!” he yells to the field, on his feet among other fans.
“All I’m sayin’ is –“
“All I’m sayin is stand the fuck up and watch the game,” he gulps some beer and wipes sweat off his face as the focus has now turned to a full count at the plate.
The man looks at his last sip of beer and mutters to himself, “Yeah they tear dis place down an’ it’s da only place you come all summer long getting’ away from your wife an’ gettin’ shitfaced and yellin’ at D Lee and you tell me who be cryin.” He tosses his head back finishing the drink. “I’m goin’ da get more beer.”
His co-hort responds with a fist-pump and a grunt toward the field as the third out is made.
A girl sitting in front of the two men, about twenty years their junior turns around and addresses the remaining one, “Your friend’s right, you know.”
He sizes her up, not recognizing her and therefore leading him to believe she has no credibility. “Excuse me, little lady?”
She smiles at him. “Your friend. About Yankee Stadium? He’s right.”
The man rolls his eyes and brushes away more sweat. “Oh man what is it today? I miss da memo for nostalgia day at Wrigley Field or somethin’?”
“You don’t think there’s nostalgic value in Yankee Stadium?”
“I don’t care about da Yankees. All I care ‘bout is gettin’ dis team here offa da laugh list and into the Series.”
“Yeah but I mean…don’t you just like baseball?”
He finally looks directly into her eyes. “Course I like baseball, why da hell am I here if I ain’t like da game?”
“Then you’ll miss it when it’s gone,” she turns back to the field. “I will.”
The first man returns with two plastic cups brimming with Miller Light.
“Yo you can give that beer to your little softie in front of us here.”
“Huh?”
“Excuse me, miss?” The girl turns again. “Miss, here, here take this so you an’ my frien’ here can cry over your beer ‘bout the damn stadium.”
The girl raises both hands in surrender, “Oh, no, thanks I –“
The man has snatched the beer out of his friend’s hand and is shoving it into the girl’s. “Nah nah, our treat,” he smiles. “You shoulda heard’er talkin’ bout missin’ da stadium. Funny shit.”
“Hey hey now. None a dat with the young lady,” he addresses the girl, “You hear whad I was sayin’?”
“Yes and I think you’re completely right. It’s a big letdown for all baseball fans. First Busch, now the Yanks and…well…” she looks at her surroundings.
“Don’t even get me started on dis place.”
“I’ll drink to that,” she chuckles and clinks cups with the man.
“You know it really started when they started doing things like renaming
He laughs, “Yeah you know ‘bout dat, too?” he slaps his co-hort on the arm. “Joe she even pissed about Comiskey.”
“Yeah yeah cry inta your beers and whatever. Fuck da Sox.”
The girl makes a face to her new friend in reaction to Joe.
“Don’t mind him. He’s actually sad too but he’s just so worried ‘bout the Cubs blowin’ it for annudda year, ya know?”
“Yeah. The Flubbies,” the girl smiles back at him.
“How you know that term?”
“Is it surprising to find me well versed in
The man chuckles and takes a drink. “Not at all, little miss. Just don’t expect a Trixie-lookin’ girl like yourself to know much ‘bout dis stuff.”
“Well,” she drinks, “My father is a baseball fan. Mom is too. They have their favorites but still when it comes down to it…they just love the game.”
“They musta taught you well.”
“Ha, well I can’t quote any trivia other than what’s hanging on my dad’s wall, but I can cry over my beer for the loss of a nostalgic landmark.”
“You two done pissin’ around yet? We got a game here makin’ history.” Joe looks around the stands, “Yo Blowie get me annuda Miller Light here!”
While his focus is on the beer salesman, the girl asks, “What’s his deal?”
“Oh, Joe? Yeah he act like he don’t care but he’s been in that spot on these bleachers for years. You got your dad’s walls; he has dis place. Can’t miss a spec a da game.”
“I got you.”
“What you learn from your dad’s walls anyway?”
“Well, a lot of the stuff we gave him for Christmas and birthdays. A collage of old trading cards from when Joe Torre and Mike Shannon played, the ’67 World Series team plaque – “
“You must have a cool dad.”
She smiles and looks back to the field. “Yeah. Yeah I like him a lot. Baseball brings me close to him.”
“My dad got me inta baseball too. Course he was draggin’ me all over the little league fields throwin’ pitches and teaching me howda slide an’ shit….” They both take a drink and focus on the game after hearing the crowd boo and missing a run on the Brewers’ side.
“Missing a good game,” the girl says.
“Yeah but I think we both know how dis one’s gonna turn out.”
“I don’t know, man, we may not have Flubbies today!”
“Man – fuck the Flubbies. Watch da game an’ drink yer beer. We got history,” Joe sputters.
“All I’m sayin’ is –“
“All I’m saying is –“
“Yankee Stadium’s gonna be gone an’ all a you’s baseball fans gonna be sad.”
“Hey,” said the girl, “You’re the one obsessed with missing history you know.”
Joe looks down at the girl. He shakes his head and silently focuses back on the game, then back to her. “You tell your dad where you are. He’d understand. History fo sho.”
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