The Bartman Seat

Aisle 4, row 8, seat 113.

To think one man’s curse was the main attraction of my afternoon at Wrigley. This is where it all went down. Where the Cubs were so close (with Dusty Baker at the helm) yet so far away. I remember that October 14th night in 2003 like it was yesterday. Sitting on my futon on a Tuesday night after a fall practice having a few Natural lights with my buddies. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I didn’t care about the Cubs or the Marlins.

From that night forward, I would be in pursuit of a visit to this seat for almost a full decade before claiming the destination finalized.

I’m very thorough, you see. It wasn’t good enough to walk up to the Bartman seat and snap a simple picture. I had to get it from every possible angle. I don’t even remember if I sat in the damn thing I was so giddy and excited. Pretty soon others surrounding us realized exactly what I was doing, and exactly what spot I was in. They started to copycat, and take pictures of the seat before climbing in it one family member at a time. No one ever really said a word of what the seat was or represented. I can tell you one thing though: when I told the usher I wanted to see the Bartman seat; he led the way like he had done it 1000 times before.

I touched the railing and tried to soak it in. Bartman was looking at this before Moises Alou came over and threw his tantrum. I wish I knew where Bartman was right now. I would do just about anything to meet the guy. If you ever read this Steve, you only did what myself or millions of others out there would have done in the same situation. Real fans don’t fault you. And if I can play Nostradamus for a moment, I think that someday off in time awaits when Bartman comes out of hiding and is embraced by Cubs fans everywhere.

The Cubs are going to have to win a World Series for this to happen. But it will happen. As I wrote last year, Bartman will be forgiven then and brought out of hiding. I hope I’m around to see it. I hope I’m in Chicago for that matter.

One last look at the Bartman seat, with Mrs. Diamond Hoggers in the background probably telling me to get a life or asking if we can go check out something else.

I had to visit this spot of the baseball world and get it on the blog. As sad of a part of history as it is, it remains an enormous part of baseball-lore and will forever. I’m glad I got to see it.