Baseball Fever - Catch
It!
Day 3:
Friday, June 15, 2001
Battle Creek, MI to Lafayette, IN - 502
miles
At approximately 8:30 AM, after less than five hours of sleep, Matt
decides to get out of bed and drive over to Cereal City USA, a museum
across the Battle Creek River from Kellogg's corporate
headquarters. Rob opts for another couple hours of sleep, hoping
the extra snooze time will help him more fully enjoy the upcoming
Wrigley Field experience.
The history of cereal in Battle Creek is actually quite
interesting. It all began in the late nineteenth century, at a
health and wellness center called the Battle Creek Sanitarium, run by
Dr. John Harvey Kellogg. Kellogg was a strong proponent of
nutritional diets, strict exercise regimens, and frequent yogurt enemas
(not to mention life-long sexual abstinence, the use of electrical
shocks and carbolic acid to discourage masturbation, and segregation to
preserve the purity of the white gene pool). His obsession with
the human gastrointestinal system led to constant experimentation in
the kitchen, in the hope of creating foods that would promote the
health of the digestive tract. One day Kellogg and his brother,
Will, stumbled upon the idea of the corn flake when they tried to press
some stale wheat into a sheet of dough and instead ended up with little
flakes.
Dr. Kellogg enjoyed a good yogurt enema. But then again, who
doesn't?
This image from the Project Gutenberg
archives is in the public domain in the United States
Over the years, the toasted flakes became quite popular with the guests
at the sanitarium, and led to a dispute between the brothers.
Will, the more business-oriented of the pair, thought that adding sugar
to the flakes would make them more palatable to the average consumer
and would allow the brothers to market them as a new breakfast
food. John, never one for impurities, vehemently disagreed, and
the two split up, never to speak again. Will went on to found the
Kellogg's cereal company in 1906, while John continued his work at the
sanitarium. Meanwhile, C.W. Post, inspired by his stay at the
sanitarium, went on to found his own cereal company, also in Battle
Creek. His first creation was Grape Nuts, followed soon after by
his own version of corn flakes. A bitter rivalry broke out
between the two companies, seeding acrimony that lasts to this very
day. Perhaps that last sentence was a bit overdramatic.
At any rate, Cereal City USA captures almost none of this intriguing
tale, and seems more interested in getting people to buy handfuls of
Corn Flakes from a vending machine. The factory tours have long
since ended, due to fears of industrial espionage, and the museum
visitor is left watching wax-coated flakes carried by fake conveyor
belts that lead to nowhere. The only interesting bit of knowledge
acquired during this whole experience is that one ear of corn produces
only three to five flakes. This means a large box of Corn Flakes
requires 9000 ears of corn. These numbers strike us as highly
dubious, and cannot be confirmed through internet research. We
would call up Cereal City and ask where they got their numbers, but, as
of early 2007, they have closed, unable to make their financial ends
meet
In a remarkable twist of good fortune, the Cereal City gift shop,
stocked to the gills with overpriced crap, offers the first
location-specific snow globe of the trip. However, it should be
noted that this one has an unattractively low dome, and is forced to
share space with a pencil sharpener lodged in its base, no doubt an
ignominious fate for any member of the shake-'em-up souvenir family.
The Knights Inn at Battle Creek provides better accommodations than the
Budget Inn from the previous night, but is still in no danger of being
confused for the Waldorf-Astoria. The room itself is perfectly
satisfactory, although the bathroom is dim, leaky, and cramped.
However, the toilet's impressive flushing power endows us with a sense
of comfort and the knowledge that everything is going to be all
right. Additionally, the aging television provides a nearly
psychedelic experience, transforming each color into its fluorescent
counterpart. For those on a budget, we heartily endorse this
hotel. For those who are actually knights, you may be
disappointed by the lack of hitching posts for your white steeds.
Our TV set looked
something like this
Brian
Exton of PictureRealm Art Shop holds the copyright on
this image
Around 11:00, we hit the road, bound for Chicago on I-94. From
weather forecasts obtained prior to the trip, it appears that this is
the one game where we might encounter some bad weather. This
could prove to be quite problematic, since we are hoping to haul some
butt up to Milwaukee after the Chicago matinee and catch a nightcap
between the Brewers and the Royals. We are going to be rather
pressed for time as it is, so our schedule certainly won't be able to
accommodate any weather delays.
Unfortunately, as we pass Kalamazoo (the Michael Jordan of cities with
funny names) and press west toward Chicago, we can see a storm brewing
on the horizon. And not a simple thunderstorm, mind you, but
rather the type of immense, foreboding, dark gray clouds that make you
wonder if the Apocalypse is nigh. Within a few minutes, the
heavens open, and the van is pelted with rain and hail, unleashed from
the sky with an unquenchable fury. Eying the temperature display
on the console, we observe a 20° F drop over the course of five
minutes. Single-minded in the pursuit of our goals, we refuse to
pull over, but are forced to slow down to about 30 mph on the
Interstate. Most other cars are waiting this one out on the side
of the road, but we have a baseball game to catch.
After 20 minutes or so, the storm lets up, and we are in the
clear. The sky becomes a perfect blue, and the temperature behind
the front is considerably cooler than the oppressive heat we have been
enjoying thus far, setting a perfect stage for baseball. We cross
into Indiana and then Illinois, set our clocks back an hour, and then
fight Chicago traffic as we crawl to the north side of the city, to the
famous address on West Addison Road. We take advantage of the
slow trip and enjoy the scenery on Lake Shore Drive, finally pulling
into a parking lot about an hour before game time. We splurge on
this convenient lot ($11), since we need to be in the van and on the
road as quickly as possible following this game in order to make it to
Milwaukee on time.
Every young boy who grows up a baseball fan dreams of visiting three
places: Yankee Stadium, Fenway Park, and Wrigley Field. Seeing
one of these places for the first time, feeling the history of the park
wash over you, is a nearly indescribable experience. From Babe
Ruth's called shot to Ernie Banks shouting "Let's play two!" to Harry
Caray's ebullient cries of "Cubs win! Cubs win!" Wrigley Field is
synonymous with baseball. Entering the Friendly Confines and
seeing the ivy growing up the outfield wall evokes memories of an era
when baseball was only played during the day. Adding to the
overwhelming sense of tradition are the manually-operated scoreboard
and the trough urinals1.
After taking all this in, we make our way to our seats, where we find
ourselves cursing the 1914 engineers who placed load-bearing columns in
between us and the pitcher's mound, obscuring our view of the
field. And with the game fully sold out, we have no opportunity
to move elsewhere.
Things quickly take a turn for the better when we discover that it is
the fifteenth anniversary celebration of Ferris Bueller's Day Off.
Alan Ruck, who played Cameron in the film, gets the party started by
driving the infamous red Ferrari around the warning track, then getting
out and singing the Star-Spangled Banner. This sets the stage for
Julian Tavarez and J.C. Romero to do battle as the Twins take on the
Cubs in interleague play.
Gazing past the leftfield bleachers and across Waveland Avenue, we see
several groups of people congregating on nearby rooftops to watch the
game. Most clubs took steps in the old days to block the view of
the field from neighboring buildings by constructing "spite fences,"
but the Cubs allowed the lucky property owners along Waveland and
Sheffield Avenues to enjoy the games for free. We notice that
many of the people on the roofs are sitting in what look like standard
ballpark seats. It turns out this is part of an escalating
dispute between the Cubs and the apartment owners, who have started
installing all sorts of amenities (not just the seats, but also full
bars, restrooms, and plasma televisions), some charging people hundreds
of dollars to watch the games. The year after our visit, the Cubs
filed a lawsuit against these businesses, resulting in a profit-sharing
agreement acceptable to both parties, making the rooftop seats, in a
sense, part of Wrigley Field.
The rooftop seats of Waveland Avenue
John Delano of Hammond, Indiana holds the copyright on this image
Fortunately for us, the game moves fairly quickly. We anticipate
the drive to Milwaukee taking at least two hours in Friday afternoon
traffic, so if this matchup lasts even three hours, we will have little
hope of getting to Milwaukee in time for the 7:10 opening pitch.
So while we cheer for the Cubbies, we also cheer each out. The
Cubs win 5-3, each of their runs driven in by a homer: one each by
Ricky Gutierrez, Eric Young, and Ron Coomer. The Twins manage
nine hits, but are unable to string together any offensive rallies, and
never seriously threaten after the Cubs took a 5-2 lead in the
fifth. We both find the Wrigley experience truly something to
relish, although the game itself was not too exciting.
Fantasy stats:
* Doug Mientkiewicz (Matt, 1B, Min) - 1-4, RBI
The most important stat of all is the time of the game, which clocked
in at a fantastic 2:22. This means that we are in the van just a
bit after 5:00, with a fighting chance of getting to Miller Park by
7:10. Excited by this prospect, we peel out, tires squealing, as
we fly north toward Milwaukee.
Three seconds later, Rob slams on the brakes, and we end up sitting in
traffic for the better part of the next 90 minutes. Much to our
chagrin, this delay comes with an additional price, courtesy of the
Tri-State Tollway. Once we finally reach the Wisconsin border,
traffic breaks up, but we have now lost any chance of getting to
Milwaukee on time. Nevertheless, we plow ahead, sunk costs be
damned.
We hurriedly pull into a stadium parking lot, throw six bucks at the
attendant, and take off running down toward the stadium. Knowing
we must be a couple innings late, we buy two $10 tickets from a
scalper, excitedly noting that it is apparently "Fish Fry Night" at
Miller Park. Climbing the stairs to our seats, we notice that the
crowd is fairly quiet for the early part of a game. Plus we're in
Milwaukee, home of the finest cheap American beer. Shouldn't
everyone be drunk and rowdy on a Friday night?
As it turns out, a power outage affecting several banks of lights has
caused play to be halted. This must be aggravating for the rest
of the fans in attendance, but it's great news for us. Despite
showing up 45 minutes late, we've only missed a single scoreless inning.
However, as we wait, it becomes more and more obvious that we're not
going to see any baseball at all. Times ticks by, with nary a
word of explanation from the stadium crew. People gradually start
leaving, so the Brewers bust out their emergency line of entertainment.
First up is the famous sausage race2.
In this event, four people dress up as different types of sausages and
race around the field. This generally takes place between the
sixth and seventh innings, but with the remaining crowd getting
restless, the management knows they have to do something to keep the
people from rioting. In a thrilling contest, the bratwurst comes
from behind to edge out the hot dog at the finish line.
The sausages prepare
for a race
What happens next is undoubtedly the most surreal experience either of
us has ever had at a baseball game. They trot a nun out onto the
field, and have her throw frisbees at a cardboard target for five
minutes. Our minds implode as we try to comprehend what we are
seeing.
Finally, at 9:15 PM, they announce that the game has been postponed and
that our tickets can be exchanged for future tickets, but not
refunded. Of course, this does us no good, since we have tickets
in Cincinnati for tomorrow night, and we're not planning a return trip
to Milwaukee any time in the near future.
Trying to put a positive spin on things, we note that we did get to two
stadiums in one day, and we were quite impressed by what we saw of
Miller Park, although not what we saw in
Miller Park.
Had
we been at this game in Milwaukee, it wouldn't have mattered if there
was a power outage
We climb back into the van, and celebrate the 1000th mile of the trip
as we exit the parking lot. Wisconsin is a new state for both of
us, so we decide to celebrate by eating some Wisconsin cheese. We
stop at a combination Taco Bell/truck stop in Kenosha, WI, clearly the
place to go for high-quality local dairy products. We manage to
find
something cheese-like at the truck stop, and we head over to
the Bell for some tasty tacos and diarrheto supremes. Outside on
the Wisconsin roadside is a Goodyear Tires billboard with some
electrical problems, illuminating the night sky with "GOO" in giant
letters. Billy Madison would be proud.
We have an uneventful, and much faster, ride back through
Chicago. We decide it is time to get some exercise, so we pull
off the interstate in Harvey, IL, a fine suburb of Chicago, and home of
the Dixie Square Mall, where the famous car chase scene in The Blues Brothers was shot.
We have a basketball in the van, so we stop at a court and shoot some
hoops in the dark for a while between 12:00 and 1:00 AM. The
quality of play may elicit comparisons to the 1995-96 Bulls, but the
netless rims help remind us that we're not exactly at the United
Center. Fortunately, a lack of hills in the area (state) keeps us
from having to fight gravity as we chase down balls unimpeded by the
missing nets.
Satisfied with our workout and beginning to question our safety in this
shady part of town, we empty our bladders in an abandoned lot across
the street (hey, when you gotta go, you gotta go) and get back in the
car, headed east toward Indiana. Despite having nearly half the
trip still ahead of us, we feel comfortable handing out the prestigious
Smell Award to the area of northwest Indiana near the town of
Rensselaer. At first we suspect we are just near a paper mill,
but the putrid stench follows us for at least 20 miles. Just
before 3:00 AM we pull into the Budget Inn (not the same chain as the
dump where we stayed our first night) in Lafayette, IN for the night.
Footnotes
1 It is
worth noting, however, the irony of such a courtly and genteel ballpark
being one of the earliest corporate-named stadiums. While it is
inarguably a less offensive name than Minute Maid Park or US Cellular
Field, it must be remembered that Wrigley was a businessman too,
hawking his chewable wares from one side of the country to the other.
2 Baseball
fans may remember, a couple years after this trip, Randall Simon, first
baseman for the visiting Pittsburgh Pirates, hitting the Italian
sausage with a bat as she passed by Pittsburgh's dugout. He
didn't strike her hard, but due to the awkwardly large heads of the
wiener costumes, the shift in momentum was sufficient to knock her to
the ground, taking out the hot dog in the process. Though the two
women only suffered scraped knees, Simon was arrested and later
suspended for three games and fined $2000.
