My heart sank when I looked at the words on the ticket I had just been handed – OBSTRUCTED VIEW. A wonderful weekend of impromptu fun with my family in Chicago had hit its first bump. Or so I thought. My wife, son, and I had seen a great production of “West Side Story” at the Lyric Opera the night before. This morning, we were deciding whether to check out the planetarium or go to a Chicago Cubs game. When there are only three in your family, there’s never a tie. I hadn’t been to Wrigley Field since I was a kid and my son cast the deciding vote. But here I was, 30 minutes before the first pitch realizing that the tickets I had reserved just hours before were not the perfect spot I had anticipated. I even asked for an upgrade, but the man said they were sold out. The pre-game excitement was palpable and everyone around us was filing in. So we made the best of it and trudged into the security line with the rest of the Cubs faithful.
As we finally took our seats on this perfect day for baseball, I saw that “obstructed view” meant just that. And yes, I did miss a few plays at third base because of it. But I could clearly see…
- the blue sky and the white puffy clouds
- the pristine green outfield
- the players as they went about their warm-ups – tossing and catching and swinging a bat
- the smiles on the faces of my family!