After hemming and hawing like a jerk I say yeah, because this is like a dream - to go to a Cubs/Sox game. I've never gone to one before. It's a hot ticket in Chicago, and there is no way I could afford to go. God was clearly smiling on me the day that he made this girl my friend.

AdventureDog gets on the Red Line and meets his companions outside the hellhole. I haven't been to Wrigley Field since I was twelve. So now I can buy beer and smoke cigarettes and stuff while I watch my boys take out these fools on their home turf.

I wear my Sox hat. Had to represent. My buddy and her sister represented by wrinting "YEAH WHITE SOX" on duct tape, and then strapping it over thier chests. Solid. People look at us like we're crazy, cute girls in Cubs shirts instantly become ugly. It's like that. The brainwashing took hold long before I could form complete sentences.

We get to our seats, which are insanely good. We sit behind home plate, about a hundred rows back on the slope. You can see every pitch and every fielder. You could argue with the umpire for a lack of consistency in his calls.

I am surrounded by Cubs fans. Before the game starts, we take our seats. The man next to me reminds me of my dad. Salt and pepper hair, tan, leathery skin. A good face: handsome. I like my dad, so when I sit, I nod and smile and say hi. We're going to be sitting here together for a couple of hours, why not be friends? The man next to me looks into my eyes coldly. And his face does not change it's expression.

So it's like that. His boy's keeping score, a student of the game. In front of us sit another son and father. The kid's about ten years old. Goodlooking, decked out in all his blue Cubs gear. He even brought his mitt to the game, which I used to do once upon a time, so I instantly liked him. His father's got grey hair, he's thin and he looks happy, a constant half grin on his face and behind his grey eyes.

Then the game starts. Now, I've already said that I'm a Sox fan, and it should go without saying that I'm going to get excited if the Sox do well... it should also be said that I'm going to make fun of the Cubs mercilessly if they do anything silly on the field.

And they did. By the time the second inning rolled around, the Sox were up by six runs. That is, the Sox had six runs and the Cubs had ZERO.

I'm thinking that this is quite possibly the best day of my life. I mean, I'm going to frame this ticket stub. And I can't stop talking shit about the Cubs. And it's only fair, because if the Cubs were winning, I'd have to sit there and take all the shit talking from the Cubs fans. The Cubs fans around me were not pleased. The Sox fans, though, were very pleasant.

It could of been when Willie Harris broke his bat and got a single, and I mentioned that there was no cork in that bat... It could've been when I laughed out loud at the fact that Mark Buerhle knocked in the first run of the game for the Sox.... Or when Buerhle came up again and I said that they should walk him - and then another Sox fan mentioned that there was no where to put him - since the bases were loaded.

It could have been any one of those things....But when the cute little boy in front of me told his father that he wanted to punch me in the face....I relaized that, without a doubt, I was in hostile territory. Not that I stopped or anything. That's just the way it goes at the ballpark. You got to take your lumps, son. It's not like we're at the Opera. The capper came when The Sox popped up a bunt. The Cubs got the force out at second, because no one could catch the ball. Nice.

All in all it was a great time. No attacks were made, many scowls were given. It's interesting that they haven't upgraded their men's bathroom to actual functioning urinals, though. They still use troughs for the men. There is no room for modesty at Wrigley Field. But if you're a fan of a team this bad, what sense of shame could you possibly have?

Sox win 7-6