Everything Old Is New Again

---

---

One hundred years ago today, Wrigley Field (known then as Weeghman Park) hosted its first baseball game. It was the home of the Chicago Whales of the Federal League.

In the first half of the 1920s, it was known as Cubs Park, and it was the home of the National League's Chicago Cubs — as it still is today. In November 1926, it was renamed Wrigley Field after chewing gum bigwig William Wrigley Jr., who owned the Cubs at the time.

"Most of what we know of Wrigley Field came to be in 1937," writes Tim Newcomb for Sports Illustrated, "when then–owner P.K. Wrigley urged Cubs general manager Bill Veeck to spruce up the stadium, which had already been renovated in 1921 and 1926. ... The owner wanted a park–like setting, similar to what he'd seen in trips to ballparks in California. That vision gave us the park we know today, complete with ivy, a brick outfield wall and a scoreboard."

When a sports venue has existed for a century, it is to be expected that it has hosted its share of luminaries, but Wrigley may have had more than its share in that time. Many stadiums have doubled as homes for baseball and football. Wrigley has truly been an all–purpose facility.

"Wrigley has also hosted professional boxing, professional soccer, college football (Northwestern and DePaul have both called it home) and even a ski jump competition from the upper deck in 1943," Newcomb writes. "All those events, not to mention a visit from every National League team since 1916 (and Michael Jordan once during his baseball days, the only big–league stadium he played in), have brought a who's who of visitors through the locker room."

Only Fenway Park, which observed its centennial a couple of years ago, is older, but Fenway is home to an American League club. In the National League, no stadium is as old as Wrigley Field. Not even close.

In a season that has already saluted the 40th anniversary of Hank Aaron's record–setting home run, baseball has another milestone in Chicago today — and lots of folks will be on hand to celebrate.

The game will match the Cubs and the Arizona Diamondbacks. This may be the brightest the spotlight will shine on these teams all year. After last Sunday's games, both teams were already eight games behind their divisions' leaders.

The teams are unimportant. A game must be played, and Commissioner Bud Selig will be there to see it, as will several noteworthy Cubs, such as Ernie Banks, Billy Williams, Andre Dawson, Fergie Jenkins.

"The first 30,000 fans will receive a replica 1914 Chicago Federals jersey," reports MLB.com, "and the first 10,000 fans will get a birthday cupcake."

WGN will be on hand to provide coverage of the big event — which, appropriately, will take place during the day. Until 1988, all the games that were played in Wrigley Field were played in the day. But lights finally were installed in 1988, and the ballpark joined the rest of the baseball world and began scheduling night games.

Day games are still played at Wrigley Field, and today's game will be played in chilly but sunny conditions, according to the forecasters.

It's funny, but I never realized before that Wrigley Field and Harry Caray, the longtime announcer for Cubs games, were born less than two months apart. Caray was born in March 1914.

It does seem appropriate, though.

The Centennial of Baseball's Showman

---

---

"I know it's the fans that are responsible for me being here. I've always tried in each and every broadcast to serve the fans to the best of my ability."

Harry Caray

---

In ballparks in Florida and Arizona, spring training games are being played, perhaps as you read this — the perfect time for a man like Harry Caray to have a birthday.

In fact, March 1 was his birthday. If he was still alive, Caray would have been 100 years old today. And I think he would want to spend it at a ballgame where he could feel the sun on his face, smell the dirt and grass of the ballpark and hear the crack of a bat meeting a ball.

But he's been gone awhile.

When Caray was alive, watching the Cubs on WGN was must–see TV. It didn't matter how good or — more often — how bad they were. Having Caray to call the game was worth it.

People used to talk about how influential Ted Turner was in the early days of cable, and there certainly was truth in that. But don't underestimate Caray's contribution, especially in the days before cable coverage blanketed sports and it became possible to see one's favorite teams — in almost any sport — virtually whenever they played.

For awhile there, only the Chicago Cubs and the Atlanta Braves could be seen just about whenever — and wherever — they played. WGN in Chicago was one of cable's first superstations, along with Turner's WTCG in Atlanta, and their baseball coverage was one of their biggest selling points. As a Dodger fan, that meant that I could see the Dodgers play whenever they faced the Cubs or the Braves since all three were National League clubs (and, with the exception of spring–training games, the only inter–league games in those days were World Series games). It also meant that the Cubs and Braves gained new fans from all across the country every year.

The Yankees and Cardinals probably remained the two most popular franchises, but they suddenly faced competition from the Cubs and the Braves. Caray had a lot to do with that. He was the familiar face of the Cubs, and fans associated his seventh–inning renditions of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" with his Cub broadcasts. Folks were singing that song long before he came along, but Caray redefined that tradition while broadcasting White Sox games.

He was a homer, no doubt about it, and he embraced that role with relish. He didn't apologize for it, either. He didn't pretend to be objective. He seemed to understand that was part of the show.

When you work nights, weekends and most holidays, as I did when I worked on the sports desk of the Arkansas Gazette, you have to take your perks where you find them, and one of the perks for me was the fact that, when they were playing in the afternoon, I could watch most of the Cubs' games before I had to leave for work. I got to enjoy six, maybe seven innings of Caray and the Cubs.

In those days, I hoped to someday visit Chicago and take in a game at Wrigley Field, just to be able to watch Caray lead the crowd in "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" during the seventh–inning stretch, but I never made it. Sixteen years ago, Caray collapsed in a restaurant, reportedly struck his head on a table and died four days later.

Lots of folks probably thought that there couldn't be a show without Caray — but the show went on after he had a stroke that kept him out of the booth for a couple of months. A steady parade of celebrities, many with local ties, filled in as guests until he returned. Some were good, most were not, but I think nearly all viewers would agree that none came close to matching Caray.

Perhaps it was because he understood the mentality of the Chicago sports fan.

"Chicago people are kind of fatalistic, but they continue to hope that somehow some way the Cubs will shock even them and win it just one time," he said. "Their fatalism allows them to enjoy the team's success, knowing that one horrible thing will happen down the line to rip the rug out from underneath them."

There are some sports announcers whose voices you just associate with certain sports and/or teams. When I was growing up in Arkansas, that voice was Bud Campbell's; whenever I heard it and regardless of what the calendar said, I felt like it must be an autumn Saturday and the Razorbacks must be about to begin a game against a Southwest Conference rival.

National broadcasts on TV and radio have had their own announcers who were known and loved by millions. Whenever I heard Curt Gowdy's voice, I felt like it had to be a summer's day and NBC's game of the week must be on — even though Gowdy did work some football games from time to time.

Caray's voice was like that for me. It just seemed natural to hear him speak of the Cubs and Wrigley Field — even though he was born in St. Louis.

It's been too long since I've heard that distinctive voice.