Mapping the path

EASTERN MIDWEST BASEBALL

Chicago Cubs

We start with a Chicago River Boat Architecture Tour, followed by Italian beef sandwiches at Portillo’s and a trip to the Art Institute of Chicago before our only Major League game of the road trip: the Chicago Cubs at storied Wrigley Field.

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The Great Chicago Fire of 1871 wiped out 17,000 buildings in Chicago’s central district just 14 years before the construction of the world’s first steel skyscraper, the Home Insurance Building of Chicago. The combination of opportunity and innovation drew architects to the city looking to make their marks on Chicago’s booming skyline.

Standouts from earlier decades include the Wrigley Building (1921), a neo-Classical skyscraper with a white façade of glazed terra cotta; Tribune Tower (1923), a soaring neo-Gothic monument just across from the Wrigley Building; and Marina City (1964-1968), two towers that were originally designed to include 900 apartments, stores, offices, a bank, a movie theater, a bowling alley, a skating rink, a marina, and a parking garage snaking around the tower’s exterior.

These classics are literally overshadowed by more modern, glass-forward compositions that cast blue hues on sunny days like ours. The river itself — once filled with garbage, until Mayor Richard Daley’s cleanup campaign in the 1960s — felt pleasant and clean, with restaurants and public spaces lining the busy waterway.

After dropping Dad off at the side entrance to the museum, I parked in the underground garage across the street in Millennium Park. Danny and I walked upstairs into the park to find the Cloud Gate sculpture, created in 2006 by Indian-born British artist Anish Kapoor. Made of 168 steel plates welded together, the bean-shaped artwork was inspired by the reflective quality of liquid mercury. Its highly polished surface creates a mirror that casts distorted images of the steel giants beside it.

Unfortunately, a construction fence surrounded Cloud Gate when we arrived. I just managed to poke my phone through it for a photo, while a worker ate lunch underneath the sculpture to beat the heat.

The Art Institute of Chicago is, of course, much more than Seurat’s famous painting. It is one of the largest art museums in the United States, with a collection of nearly 300,000 works across a million square feet of space. It also has one of the country’s most celebrated collections of paintings from Western culture. But it’s so much more: ancient and Byzantine art, Japanese prints, African art, contemporary American art, European decorative arts, photography, and drawings.

Danny and I peeled off from Dad and did a lap on the first floor to see sculptures and mosaics from Rome, Greece, and ancient India.

We soon found a stairway to the second floor, and there it was: A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. Painted with approximately 220,000 tiny, dot-like brushstrokes, Seurat’s massive masterpiece is a study in color and light, as the musical says, with shadows casting across the languid scene — each hue challenging the artist to place perfect points of paint to create the impression of just the right color when combined by the eye.

The museum is full of famous works, including Grant Wood’s American Gothic, Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks, and The Old Guitarist, by Pablo Picasso. It is easy with such artistic riches to get overwhelmed by the impossible desire to carefully examine and fully appreciate these masterpieces in one visit.

Danny and I proceeded to rooms showcasing the more modern artistic styles of expressionism, cubism, abstract art, and pop art.

We crisscrossed the museum, passing through regions and eras, traveling backward and forward in time at a dizzying pace.

We finished our tour in the Arms and Armor room, an impressive collection of medieval weaponry and armor.

Danny and I found Dad in the waiting area at the appointed time. We had a few minutes to spare, so I popped into the gift shop and returned shortly thereafter to find Danny asleep next to Dad. It had been a big day, and we still had one of the crown jewels of baseball to come.

I sensed the mood would be a little more joyous at Wrigley Field on Pride Night. I dropped Danny and Dad off, parked at a paid lot nearby, and hustled back to the famous Wrigley marquee, first installed in 1934.

The second-oldest ballpark in Major League Baseball, Wrigley Field opened in 1914 as Weeghman Park. It became Cubs Park in 1920, then adopted its current name in 1926 after gum magnate William Wrigley Jr. acquired the Chicago Cubs.

Ironically, the Cubs began in 1870 as the White Stockings and joined the National League as a charter member six years later. By 1890, the team was known as the Chicago Colts, or "Anson's Colts," after player-manager Cap Anson, the first player to reach 3,000 hits. So central was the superstar to the ballclub that they became known as the Orphans after Anson’s last season as a player-manager in 1897.

The franchise was nicknamed the Cubs by the Chicago Daily News in 1902, and it became official five years later. Those early Cubs won World Series titles in 1907 and 1908 but, famously, did not claim another championship until 2016.

It’s rare and wonderful to take in a ballpark like Wrigley Field and know that every star for more than a century played on that same surface: Rogers Hornsby, Dizzy Dean, Hack Wilson, Ernie Banks, Billy Williams, Ferguson Jenkins, Andre Dawson, Ryne Sandberg, Sammy Sosa, and so many more.

I walked down the left-field line to see some of the rooftop seating available across Waveland Avenue, which can accommodate up to 200 fans. I then tried to get a view of the ballpark from the outfield but was turned away by an usher — one of the annoyances of the Major League Baseball experience compared to the minor leagues.

We paid a visit to the team store, with Dad finding his logo baseball for the night. I passed on hats or any other merchandise, because I can’t bring myself to wear gear from any Major League team other than my San Diego Padres.

Dad settled into his seat and began to fill out his scorebook. Meanwhile, I hunted for food options and settled on Polish dogs with mustard and neon-green relish.

Pre-game ceremonies got underway, with mascot Clark taking the field to receive the first pitch.

The matchup began quietly, with both starting pitchers — Javier Assad for the Cubs, Jordan Hicks for the Giants — setting down the sides in order. The pitching dominance continued for three scoreless innings.

The 93-degree day had cooled off just slightly by game time; the overnight low would be 81 degrees. The humidity didn’t help. A big crowd sat close together, with no breeze whatsoever, in seats designed for smaller humans from another era. I made my way to the upper deck to change up my view and find some oxygen.

The Giants drew first blood in the top of the fourth when right fielder Mike Yastrzemski tripled to right field, bringing home Jorge Soler. Both starters left the game after five innings of work, and both teams pounced on the bullpens. Cubs first baseman Michael Busch hit a two-run shot in the bottom of the sixth to put the home team up by one. But the Giants answered with two more in the top of the seventh, including a homer by Heloit Ramos, who I saw play for the San Jose Giants in one of my first-ever Minor League games in 2019.

The Cubs made their reply in the bottom of the seventh. Left fielder Ian Happ lifted a three-run shot over the left-field wall to cap a four-run inning and give Chicago a 6-3 lead. The crowd — a great turnout for a Monday — reached a crescendo on what appeared to be a good night for the Cubbies.

But the Giants were not done hitting bombs. Catcher Patrick Bailey hit a solo blast in the eighth to make it 6-4.

In the top of the ninth, a catcher’s interference and a walk that induced a mass groan from the crowd put the go-ahead run at the plate for the visitors. Thairo Estrada — a .217 hitter for the Giants in 2024 — came through with a home run to left-center, putting San Francisco ahead 7-6. The Cubs reliever who gave up the fateful dinger, Dominican right-hander Hector Neris, got the last two outs and was booed roundly off the field.

Chicago went quietly into that good night. Giants closer Camilo Doval put the side down in order, and that was that. The disappointed crowd grumbled out of the ballpark, and our night at Wrigley came to an end.

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