Burying the Brewers

Well, somewhere along the way, I became a Cubs fan.  There I was last night, in one of Alex's tee-shirts, on my feet, yelling and clapping along with most of the rest of the crowd at "Wrigley North" (a.k.a. Miller Park) as the Cubs pulled ahead in the eighth last night. 

Last night's game lacked the fireworks of the prior week's game, but boy do they put on a show in Milwaukee.  I guess I was supposed to be most thrilled by the great sausage race, which is the Brewers' version of the Yankees' subway race, except in Milwaukee people dressed in huge tube-like costumes that only vaguely resemble a hot dog or bratwurst race down the third base line.  The "Polish" won, which didn't seem to surprise anyone, I guess because he has the best record this reason.  These mid-westerners sure take their sausage seriously.

Anyway, what struck me as the biggest differences between Miller Park and Wrigley were the loud, in-your-face music blasted between every batter and the enormous jumbotron up above the outfield.  I'd put Yankee Stadium somewhere in the middle, not quite as old-fashioned and strictly authentic as Wrigley but not as brash and brassy as Miller Park.  I must admit that it is nice to be able to watch the replay of any close call in near life-size right after the play. 

The Cubs may still be ten games behind St. Louis, but they're only two games out of the Wild Card spot.   And tonight they're leading Milwaukee 2-0 at the top of the first...