In the summer of 1998, when the nation was captured by the Great Home Run Chase, I was just seven years old. I knew I liked the Cubs – because my grandmother never missed a game – and even at such a young age, that baseball was likely to be one of my great loves in life.
Growing up in the country, I would hang a piece of paper up on a tree nearby as my ‘scoreboard’ and play as the Cubs against the Cardinals from sun up till sun down on a nearly daily basis that summer.