Ernie Banks and a Field of Dreams moment

Sherman R. Frederick/Properly Subversive

My dad hailed from Ford County Illinois. Unless you know the area, chances are you won’t know the farming hamlets of Paxton or Gibson City, both a solid drive south of Chicago.  Dad migrated west to Arizona in his 20s, but maintained an emotional tie to Chicago’s sports teams. 

Thus began one of my better childhood memories. 

I was about 10 or thereabouts when dad took my younger brothers and I to a spring training baseball game. He sat us down – sodas and hot dogs in hand – and told us we were about to watch the Chicago Cubs and maybe – just maybe – this would be the year they win the World Series.

Then he added this: “Always remember you saw Ernie Banks play.”

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