I’m driving west on Golf Road, straight into the setting sun, in search of the Schaumburg Baseball Stadium. I left home nearly an hour before game time but won’t make the opening pitch: there’s an endless line of red lights hanging like pop-ups between here and my goal–the field they’re promoting as Little Wrigley. I can get to the real Wrigley faster than this.
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But I can’t park there. When I finally roll under the Elgin-O’Hare Expressway, I’m greeted by a sea of open spots in front of the $16 million redbrick stadium the village built to bring micro-league ball to the northwest suburbs. The parking is free and seven bucks is the top ticket price. Before the end of the first inning, I’m up the stairs, past the guy giving away stuffed chickens, and ensconced in a green plastic seat with more wriggle space than a seat at Wrigley but less knee room. Ahh. It’s a perfect night. The Schaumburg Flyers–managed by former White Sox slugger Ron Kittle–are up to bat, and there’s nothing between me and the field but a black net heavy enough to stop a cannonball. This behind-the-plate seat has all the advantages of watching the game through a grape Jell-O filter, but it’s not a problem: the place is about half full (capacity is 5,000 in the stands and 2,000 on the lawn), and there are plenty of seats along the third-base line.
They’re making plays here you hardly ever see at Wrigley: rushing out of position to lunge for balls hit to someone else; lingering on second when there’s an opportunity to steal third; catching the ball, then falling to the ground and dropping it. Still, you have to admire them. These minor-league wannabes and washouts are playing for the sheer, desperate love of the game–riding buses to their out-of-town games, boarding with local families, getting paid $700 to $1,500 a month. That’s not at all like Wrigley.
