IN APPRECIATION OF THE BIRDS

 Baseball mediocrity.
 
 That's been our plight in this city since 2005 when the Chicago White Sox showed us what World Series glory was like. And since then we have been teased and disappointed and in some seasons, downright depressed by the local representatives of the great American past time.

  As a fan of the game and a fan of The Baltimore Orioles for many years, (why is another story that
isn't all that interesting) I was fortunate enough to have a fallback. For while the Orioles have been almost as horrible as our impotent squads, the past few years have been a Bird rebirth. And while our local heroes were booting the baseball, striking out in the clutch and showing little baseball intelligence in key situations, I sought asylum by enjoying baseball as it was meant to be played by the surging Orioles.

 While Chicago baseball fans were making winter plans and inspecting the roster of the Chicago Bears on September 1 (or sooner) I was rooting for a team doing the unthinkable ...playing meaningful September baseball and chugging to an October playoff date that would keep baseball alive for me and give me a genuine post season rooting interest as our teams packed it in for the year. I would still have baseball.

   I thrilled to clutch home runs and solid pitching performances. I wore my Oriole gear and painted the alcove between living and dining room oriole orange with white baseboards . I was a rooting section of one, alone in my fandom but able to enjoy the game and playoff baseball while my fellow fans went wanting and dreaming of next year.

   I'll always be grateful for the big moments and the thrills that the Orioles provided me as Chicago endured a meaningful baseball drought. But while the Orioles have and will continue to hold a special place in my major league heart, I'm getting my baseball thrills now from the team on which I was raised, The Cubs.

   I like to consider myself a critical fan. I don't believe in the "My team right or wrong" philosophy. I expect teams I root for to play a certain way. I expect them to execute, to be professional and smart and to live up to their abilities and salary. And when they don't, I get peeved.

   What originally had me shopping for a new team -sort of my baseball AshleyMadison- was that I realized many many years ago that I wanted the Cubs to win more than they seemed to want to win. They would field teams that were lacking in talent and the front office didn't seem to care. They hired managers that were out of their league and soon literally, out of the league. Crowds followed the ineptness like lambs to the slaughter and it suddenly seemed so stupid. I'm supporting a team that doesn't seem to care what they put on the field. I was patronizing a restaurant that served me bad meals on a continuing basis.

    Watching Baltimore baseball showed me how the game was supposed to be played. I saw things on the diamond that I didn't know ballplayers could do, having grown up watching the Cubs. It made me appreciate the game more.

       Today I looked at the standings and considered the Orioles as if they were an old girlfriend. I was interested in how they were doing, felt some fondness for them and still wish them the best as they struggle to reach the .500 mark with an outside shot at a wild card playoff spot. I'm still going to wear my Oriole cap and throw on a bright orange jersey which goes so well with autumn, but I've gone back to where my baseball fandom started. It's like going back to my own bed after being away on tour.

        The Cubs are looking Orioleish these days, doing all the things the Birds used to do when they surged toward the post season...only the Cubs are doing them better. And they bear no resemblance to the fumbling, loveable losers of my youth with an unengaged management and an apathetic roster. My boyhood team has been rebuilt in the image of a dynamic baseball genius named Theo Epstein who had a plan and executed it. It's a new, fresh, talented bunch with unlimited possibilities and perhaps the team that has been the most fun and the most exciting to watch in my lifetime.

       And all that's left of the franchise I used to know is the memories of going to Wrigley Field with my dad and unwrapping baseball cards hoping to get a Cub..and 1969. The Cubs were my youth, my first love. And while I left them  I never stopped caring and I never stopped hoping. And I wonder how my boyhood friends Ken ,Johnny, Carmen ,Joey and all the rest are feeling these days, watching the current team start to make us believe that maybe we willget to see what our  dads never did.

        Sure,the negative among us, stung by history or out of touch with this new brand of Cubs are waiting for the disappointment and in some cases, rooting for it. And chances are the Cubs will not win the final game they play this season.  But what they don't see is that it just doesn't matter.

         The 2015 Cubs are playing with house money. They are ready, contending and  darn good a year before they were supposed to reach the heights they are currently experiencing. The kids are gaining experience and they are participating in a pennant race. Over the coming winter the Cubs will make moves to make themselves even stronger and when they take the field in April, the experience and winning of 2015 will make them  even better . Epstein built this team with the idea of sustained success over the coming years and they are right on track.

       Anticipating a different kind of year, last March I put together a Cub motif for my dining room .That doesn't make me psychic but it does make me proud. I'm all in. The Cubs have regained my trust and respect and I'm in this right up until the final out.

        Good luck,Orioles. It would be great to have two teams in the post season .But while the Orioles will always have my gratitude, the Cubs will always have my heart.

HARRY VOLKMAN

   Harry Volkman was everybody's friend.
   In the days before Doppler, Skilling and green screen technology it was Mr.Volkman, whose skill and accuracy, combined with an everyman personality radiating warmth no matter what the temperature outside, who was the last word in weather.

     We lost Mr. Volkman  tonight. God Bless his family and deep condolences to them.

    I don't think I'd ever heard the word "boutanierre" before Mr.Volkman started sporting them on his lapel, gifts from the schools and organizations he took the time to visit almost daily. And how proud the folks he visited were when Mr.Volkman began his report by mentioning the school that had given him the flower. He enjoyed wild popularity for many reasons and one was that his forecasts were never dull. There were "whooshes" as a cold front prepared to sweep in and an arsenal of verbal sound effects that Mr.Volkman enjoyed as much as the viewer. And he would sometimes toss in a pun that would make the anchor team groan.

     While some in his line of work used severe weather events to alarm viewers into watching, Mr.Volkman was a calming presence in those situations. While he advised caution, he would more often than not but a reassuring spin on such incidents  I know of several times he took phone calls in his office from a mother calling on behalf of her frightened child, scared of the encroaching storm. He would tell that mom her child need not be afraid as in most cases the danger was not great and the storm would soon pass. Just like in life!

       My interest in weather began when I was 7 and was fostered by Mr.Volkman.  Through old fashioned snail mail and an infrequent phone call, Mr Volkman and I staid in scattered touch over the years . During the 80's I contacted him about appearing at a fest being sponsored by our local parish. I was shocked that he remembered who I was. He came out, hugged my mom and said some very nice things about her son. And even after his broadcast days were done, he appeared at parish events that I chaired and stole the show.

       Before the comedy production that my group, The Harlem Nights Players perform annually, I am fortunate enough to be able to interview the guests kind enough to come show their support for the parish.  On the occasions Mr.Volkman visited I needed to have no questions prepared. All I would say to Mr. Volkman is "How are you?" and then sit back and listen to his stories about his days in the service, his family, behind the scenes stories from his broadcast career and of course, plenty of comedy. He was a master storyteller and a gifted humorist enthralling the audience with his wit and charm . He's the only guest we've had that I actually had to cut off as the hour grew late and the show was yet to begin. I regretted that as Mr.Volkman may have been more entertaining than the show...at the very least a tough act to follow. Those interviews are safely stored on DVD and I will watch them again in the coming days. A guy like myself sitting there with a legend. What a blessing.

      Mr.Volkman , as our other guests, was free to leave after the interview but he stuck around! Once he introduced his audience to his niece and she came on stage and sang for our audience. Another time, while watching the comedy show we were doing where we featured our own fictional weather forecaster, Mr.Volkman took the stage of his own volition and told our character he was doing it all wrong. Our audience was thrilled and it remains one of the great moments in the history of our many shows. This was a man who enjoyed life and made ours happier in the process.

       Mr.Volkman was so proud of his family. He had stories about all of them and one of his sons, Eddie, himself a media star , joined us before the show last April. He is as bright and engaging as his dad and he shared some wonderful stories. Our condolences to Eddie and his entire family. While we have lost a legend they have lost a father, father in law, grandfather and more.

        I didn't know Harry Volkman much better than you did. While we weren't good friends he always made me feel special by just remembering me from childhood to present and I was always in awe of him.He was such a nice, humble man with a winning smile and wonderful sense of humor.

         Now on the other side of the clouds he watched for years, the name Harry Volkman will live on in Chicago broadcast history for decades and decades to come.

           Rest well, Mr.Volkman.