In 1991, when I was two years old, I went on the field at Wrigley and met Andre Dawson. Fast-forward 25 years (plus some change), and he’s back at Wrigley to throw out the first pitch in last night’s second game of the NLCS, and I’m back in the stands. Life’s funny like that — it moves in circles, giving us small bits of nostalgia to remind us no matter how far we might move forward the past is real.
Growing up, I spent summers in my grandpa’s auto repair shop. He’d be under a car, with only his legs peeking out, I’d be sitting on the grease covered floor, handing him the wrong tools, and together we’d be listening to Pat Hughes and Ron Santo call the Cubs games on the radio.