Cracker Barrel: Frankie B.
A few nights ago I had a very long talk on the phone with an old friend from boyhood days near Chicago. You might say we spent the time on a salvage operation, dredging up long-lost memories ...
Summer, 1953. I am 11 years old, a haunter of the north side of Chicago, a frequenter of Wrigley Field. Father, already a Cubs fan for decades, has nurtured within my heart a wondrous emotion. I am smitten with 25 people, all at the same time. I am in love with the Chicago Cubs.
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