Christopher Schroeder

Category: regional

  • Play Ball

    Baseball begins again today.

    The All-Star break for many fans is the unofficial halfway point in the season. The actual midway point at least for the Chicago Cubs came fifteen games earlier.

    The Cubs entered the break in the NL Central first place. This team also has the second-best NL record, and the third-best of all MLB teams, and three Cubs players were chosen for the all-star team.

    Most teams know by this point whether they’re sellers or buyers before the trade deadline later this month although the current wild card format can complicate such conclusions. Regardless, all teams have a few more days to lock their rosters for the remainder of this season.

    These all-star breaks always surprise me. Teams have had occasional off-days, so that isn’t the issue. Rather, it’s the accumulative five days total that seems so significant.

    Days one and two require me to find something else to structure my days. Day three or four usually finds me thinking beyond baseball, and the days after the season ends.

    That for most teams usually comes in September, which always feels too soon. Some teams will play into October, but the rest are storing equipment, washing uniforms, and doing whatever else must be done, including spending their days somewhere besides baseball stadiums.

    All teams will be done, and dormant, by the middle of November as the Midwestern air carries a consistent chill, the mornings bite a bit, and summer shorts are also washed, folded, and shelved. Halloween will have given way to Thanksgiving, which is followed by the Christmas and New Year’s holidays.

    The next two months are usually barren, fallow times. Little pulls my attention beyond the walls of warm buildings, where I spend most of my time.

    My mind will eventually return to baseball. At some point, I’ll count the weeks until pitchers and catchers report, which I will dutifully report.

    That and more I know is soon to come. For now, the season resumes, which will be enough.

    Players return to diamonds and roadtrips. Some, like the Cubs, will count every win and loss, which will be compared other teams’. Others, such as the Chicago White Sox, will count the number of games until the 162 merciful conclusion.

    Only a few teams will amass enough wins — that once was 100 but often fewer will do — to get into the playoffs. At that point, most bets are off, or at least must be reconsidered.

    And once again I’ve been reminded that all this ends, that this too shall pass, and that baseball season one day at least for me will never begin again. I might not know when that will be but can be confident that it will occur, which is a useful reminder, especially this year as I consider an encore career or complete retirement.

    This break reminds me that none of this lasts forever, and that today is all that matters. That is terrifying yet invigorating, somehow melancholic and beautiful at the same time.

    And I can root for the Cubs again today, return to Wrigley once the days cool, and this year reclaim my hope for October baseball once more.

  • Why Today Matters

    I sympathize with those who tell me that they’re skipping the vote because their ballots won’t make any difference.

    I also wonder whether my vote matters when no outcome, neither local nor national, will be decided by a single vote. I additionally wonder if campaign promises count when elected officials make their choices.

    Then I remember that we vote for other, and equally if not more important, reasons. In particular, we’re confirming our citizenship and choosing our communities.

    Voting is the way we affirm our membership in communities when these select their representatives. It’s also the way we participate in perhaps the most central choice in these spaces.

    These reasons remain, and are why regardless of the results all who vote win.

  • An Unfortunate Event

    I revisited the 3rd St. Market Hall last week while in Milwaukee for a baseball game after such a good experience in the spring.

    At that time, I eventually chose barbecue chicken mac-and-cheese for lunch, which I leisurely enjoyed before going to the art museum. I stopped again later for some coffee before my return train to, and something sweet for my wife in, Chicago.

    This time, I found a quiet table — the space around 10am was nearly empty — where I could decide whether to eat before or after the baseball game. In the meantime, I was planning my route to and from the stadium and finishing some fruit and vegetables I had brought on the train.

    I was soon approached by someone who had been in a group gathered around computers at a long table. He informed me without any introduction that purchases paid for the table and chair I was using and that signs at the nearby entrance prohibited outside food.

    This person should have known from the technofeudalism and capitalism book on the table between us that I needn’t an economics explanation. He also would have know had he asked any questions that I was planning to purchase lunch either before or after the game, and that I hadn’t used the entrance to which he gestured.

    I assured him that I would put the produce back in my back, and then left after resolving to skip lunch altogether. I did relent after the game, and stopped on my way to the train station again for something sweet for my spouse without this time using any tables or chairs.

    I’ve never had such an experience at any of Chicago food halls, not even when I’m in one just to work. I also didn’t expect such an experience in a place that invites people into its space, offers them something to drink, and encourages them with games and screens to linger.

    I can imagine the pressures of decimated downtowns as well as the desire for paying patrons. At the same time, I suspect such strategies can only drive potential, and previous, customers from such spaces.

    I intend to return to Milwaukee later this summer but will likely as a result skip this place. I wonder what I’ll say anytime anyone asks about these trips, but do know what I will remember, which I fear won’t be the baseball game, and not just because the Cubs lost.