I walked over to Wrigley on Saturday morning, wanting to see the marquee in person. My grandfather, a die-hard Cubs fan, always said that Ernie Banks was a “damn fine ballplayer and gentleman” so I figured I could pay tribute for the both of us. It was relatively early but the sidewalks were filled with people, young and old, in their blue and red. It was 43 degrees, practically a miracle for Chicago in January, and the day felt so hopeful. Hopeful for Spring…and maybe just hopeful for the Cubs that this is their year. Now that would be a miracle.

RIP Mr. Cub. Let’s play two.