Fran at Wrigley

[Ballboy9092]

I was at Wrigley Field last week to catch the Cubbies beat the Phillies. As I was waiting to get into the country's finest baseball cathedral at the front gates, I caught a glimpse of silver hair streaking through the crowd, a head above everyone else, slicing through traffic like an oversized Penn guard in the '70s. I immediately knew that head belonged to Fran 'White Magic' McCaffery. In tow, his sons Connor and Patrick looked like they were ready to join their old man for a picturesque day at the ballpark. Connor looked healthy, recovered from his health woes of winter, and Patrick, moved gracefully as he surely knew the best way to maneuver through the crowd from his vantage, the tallest of them all. I could just close my eyes and see him with a basketball in his hand moving effortlessly around thousands of Spartan defenders on his way to the hoop.

I offered them a mighty, "Go Hawks" as I carried my own young son in my arms.

Fran, remembering what it was like, I'm sure, to carry Patrick and Connor in his arms looked me in the eyes and replied with a fist pump and reciprocating, "Go Hawks."

Those boys looked ready for a bounce back season. It may have been a small interaction consisting of two words repeated to one another, but I swear I saw them ready for the season to begin. Before I knew it they were lost to that sunny afternoon galloping onward toward better seats than mine.

I wouldn't want to overstate my impact, but I saw them, the McCafferys three, inspired by my burst of vocal support. It seemed to give them a surge of electricity, or confidence, or maybe something else, something magic, White Magic.

As we celebrate a bounce back season in less than a year, I invite you to join me back at this moment that may have started it all. Fran patrolling the sideline with newfound confidence, Connor dropping inspired treys, and Patrick enthusiastically waiting for his time.

Here's to fathers and sons and baseball, and by that I mean basketball.

 

[tksirius]

 

[Fryowa]

I was at Wrigley Field last week to catch the Cubbies beat the Phillies. As I was waiting to get into the country's finest baseball cathedral at the front gates, I caught a glimpse of silver hair streaking through the crowd, a head above everyone else, slicing through traffic like an oversized Penn guard in the '70s. I immediately knew that head belonged to Fran 'White Magic' McCaffery. In tow, his sons Connor and Patrick looked like they were ready to join their old man for a picturesque day at the ballpark. Connor looked healthy, recovered from his health woes of winter, and Patrick, moved gracefully as he surely knew the best way to maneuver through the crowd from his vantage, the tallest of them all. I could just close my eyes and see him with a basketball in his hand moving effortlessly around thousands of Spartan defenders on his way to the hoop.

I offered them a mighty, "Go Hawks" as I carried my own young son in my arms.

Fran, remembering what it was like, I'm sure, to carry Patrick and Connor in his arms looked me in the eyes and replied with a fist pump and reciprocating, "Go Hawks."

Those boys looked ready for a bounce back season. It may have been a small interaction consisting of two words repeated to one another, but I swear I saw them ready for the season to begin. Before I knew it they were lost to that sunny afternoon galloping onward toward better seats than mine.

I wouldn't want to overstate my impact, but I saw them, the McCafferys three, inspired by my burst of vocal support. It seemed to give them a surge of electricity, or confidence, or maybe something else, something magic, White Magic.

As we celebrate a bounce back season in less than a year, I invite you to join me back at this moment that may have started it all. Fran patrolling the sideline with newfound confidence, Connor dropping inspired treys, and Patrick enthusiastically waiting for his time.

Here's to fathers and sons and baseball, and by that I mean basketball.

 

[GoHawks24]

I was at Wrigley Field last week to catch the Cubbies beat the Phillies. As I was waiting to get into the country's finest baseball cathedral at the front gates, I caught a glimpse of silver hair streaking through the crowd, a head above everyone else, slicing through traffic like an oversized Penn guard in the '70s. I immediately knew that head belonged to Fran 'White Magic' McCaffery. In tow, his sons Connor and Patrick looked like they were ready to join their old man for a picturesque day at the ballpark. Connor looked healthy, recovered from his health woes of winter, and Patrick, moved gracefully as he surely knew the best way to maneuver through the crowd from his vantage, the tallest of them all. I could just close my eyes and see him with a basketball in his hand moving effortlessly around thousands of Spartan defenders on his way to the hoop.

I offered them a mighty, "Go Hawks" as I carried my own young son in my arms.

Fran, remembering what it was like, I'm sure, to carry Patrick and Connor in his arms looked me in the eyes and replied with a fist pump and reciprocating, "Go Hawks."

Those boys looked ready for a bounce back season. It may have been a small interaction consisting of two words repeated to one another, but I swear I saw them ready for the season to begin. Before I knew it they were lost to that sunny afternoon galloping onward toward better seats than mine.

I wouldn't want to overstate my impact, but I saw them, the McCafferys three, inspired by my burst of vocal support. It seemed to give them a surge of electricity, or confidence, or maybe something else, something magic, White Magic.

As we celebrate a bounce back season in less than a year, I invite you to join me back at this moment that may have started it all. Fran patrolling the sideline with newfound confidence, Connor dropping inspired treys, and Patrick enthusiastically waiting for his time.

Here's to fathers and sons and baseball, and by that I mean basketball.

Hmm, that must have been where they were coming back from when we ran into them on Thursday afternoon at the World's largest truck stop near Walcott, IA. Coincidentally, we were heading to Chicago for Friday's game. We were both getting out of our vehicles at the same time. I also gave him a "Go Hawks" and he replied back the same.

 

[InGoodCo]

I was at Wrigley Field last week to catch the Cubbies beat the Phillies. As I was waiting to get into the country's finest baseball cathedral at the front gates, I caught a glimpse of silver hair streaking through the crowd, a head above everyone else, slicing through traffic like an oversized Penn guard in the '70s. I immediately knew that head belonged to Fran 'White Magic' McCaffery. In tow, his sons Connor and Patrick looked like they were ready to join their old man for a picturesque day at the ballpark. Connor looked healthy, recovered from his health woes of winter, and Patrick, moved gracefully as he surely knew the best way to maneuver through the crowd from his vantage, the tallest of them all. I could just close my eyes and see him with a basketball in his hand moving effortlessly around thousands of Spartan defenders on his way to the hoop.

I offered them a mighty, "Go Hawks" as I carried my own young son in my arms.

Fran, remembering what it was like, I'm sure, to carry Patrick and Connor in his arms looked me in the eyes and replied with a fist pump and reciprocating, "Go Hawks."

Those boys looked ready for a bounce back season. It may have been a small interaction consisting of two words repeated to one another, but I swear I saw them ready for the season to begin. Before I knew it they were lost to that sunny afternoon galloping onward toward better seats than mine.

I wouldn't want to overstate my impact, but I saw them, the McCafferys three, inspired by my burst of vocal support. It seemed to give them a surge of electricity, or confidence, or maybe something else, something magic, White Magic.

As we celebrate a bounce back season in less than a year, I invite you to join me back at this moment that may have started it all. Fran patrolling the sideline with newfound confidence, Connor dropping inspired treys, and Patrick enthusiastically waiting for his time.

Here's to fathers and sons and baseball, and by that I mean basketball.

Rob get this guy a job.

 

[SteveGarvey1]

I was at Wrigley Field last week to catch the Cubbies beat the Phillies. As I was waiting to get into the country's finest baseball cathedral at the front gates, I caught a glimpse of silver hair streaking through the crowd, a head above everyone else, slicing through traffic like an oversized Penn guard in the '70s. I immediately knew that head belonged to Fran 'White Magic' McCaffery. In tow, his sons Connor and Patrick looked like they were ready to join their old man for a picturesque day at the ballpark. Connor looked healthy, recovered from his health woes of winter, and Patrick, moved gracefully as he surely knew the best way to maneuver through the crowd from his vantage, the tallest of them all. I could just close my eyes and see him with a basketball in his hand moving effortlessly around thousands of Spartan defenders on his way to the hoop.

I offered them a mighty, "Go Hawks" as I carried my own young son in my arms.

Fran, remembering what it was like, I'm sure, to carry Patrick and Connor in his arms looked me in the eyes and replied with a fist pump and reciprocating, "Go Hawks."

Those boys looked ready for a bounce back season. It may have been a small interaction consisting of two words repeated to one another, but I swear I saw them ready for the season to begin. Before I knew it they were lost to that sunny afternoon galloping onward toward better seats than mine.

I wouldn't want to overstate my impact, but I saw them, the McCafferys three, inspired by my burst of vocal support. It seemed to give them a surge of electricity, or confidence, or maybe something else, something magic, White Magic.

As we celebrate a bounce back season in less than a year, I invite you to join me back at this moment that may have started it all. Fran patrolling the sideline with newfound confidence, Connor dropping inspired treys, and Patrick enthusiastically waiting for his time.

Here's to fathers and sons and baseball, and by that I mean basketball.

Nice story. We will have you to thank for the run to the Sweet 16 or better this year.

 

[InGoodCo]

I like that a dude just has a lil fun and writes up something nice and the regulars are right there to say "not so fast buster, not around here, we'll have none of that" ....savage yo! I laughed at both Tk's and Fry's replies though.

 

[tksirius]

I like that a dude just has a lil fun and writes up something nice and the regulars are right there to say "not so fast buster, not around here, we'll have none of that" ....savage yo! I laughed at both Tk's and Fry's replies though.

 

[Ballboy9092]

Laugh all you want fellas, I'll be watching next season knowing where the extra boost of confidence came from. Every Pemsl tip-in, every JBo 30 footer, every Frantrum held in check, every Wieskamp 360 windmill, every Luke Hogan corner three, every Moss slash, every Sherm bow tie, and every Woodbury dunk emanates from one "chance" encounter. Carpe Diem boys.

 

[InGoodCo]

Laugh all you want fellas, I'll be watching next season knowing where the extra boost of confidence came from. Every Pemsl tip-in, every JBo 30 footer, every Frantrum held in check, every Wieskamp 360 windmill, every Luke Hogan corner three, every Moss slash, every Sherm bow tie, and every Woodbury dunk emanates from one "chance" encounter. Carpe Diem boys.

sarcasm is sometimes hard to read, especially when it's done well.

 

[Fryowa]

Laugh all you want fellas, I'll be watching next season knowing where the extra boost of confidence came from. Every Pemsl tip-in, every JBo 30 footer, every Frantrum held in check, every Wieskamp 360 windmill, every Luke Hogan corner three, every Moss slash, every Sherm bow tie, and every Woodbury dunk emanates from one "chance" encounter. Carpe Diem boys.

dum.

Even for sarcasm.

 

[HaydenHawk56]

Hopefully they are pumped for the season and changes were made in scheme. Good to hear positive interactions with them.

 

[99topdawg]

 

[Ballboy9092]

dum.

Even for sarcasm.

What are we even doing? Here? On this Earth? Is it to besmirch well-intentioned others' pursuit of a little sweetness in this life? I don't think so, Fryowa. We all want a little connection as we set adrift on this ocean of life, a little something that says we're not alone, some eye contact, a wry smile, a polite 'ope.' So you're right, Fryowa, maybe my positive interaction with the McCaffery Three may have been insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but maybe, just maybe that tiny moment of connection will lead to connection on the court, which will lead to a defensive rotation in the closing seconds of a tight game where Nicholas Baer swats the ball out of Frank Kaminsky's hands leading to a breakaway dunk by Troy Skinner to win the game. It may not happen, but it might, and I choose to believe in hope.

Maybe posting about this encounter outside of the hallowed halls of Wrigley onto the hallowed forums of Hawkeye Nation won't do much either, but maybe 99topdawg is inspired a little to be nice to the secretary on his way to Jimmy Johns for a Beach Club unwich, and maybe InGoodCo gives his neighbor a nod hello tonight even though his neighbor listens to The Space Between by Dave Matthews a little too loudly in the backyard while he audibly cries, and maybe tksirius, to the delight of his wife, tosses the container of ham into the recycling after he nabs the last slice, instead of leaving it for her to throw away. Maybe that means something to her, and maybe that's what it's all about.

 

[InGoodCo]

via Imgflip Meme Generator

 

[Fryowa]

What are we even doing? Here? On this Earth? Is it to besmirch well-intentioned others' pursuit of a little sweetness in this life? I don't think so, Fryowa. We all want a little connection as we set adrift on this ocean of life, a little something that says we're not alone, some eye contact, a wry smile, a polite 'ope.' So you're right, Fryowa, maybe my positive interaction with the McCaffery Three may have been insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but maybe, just maybe that tiny moment of connection will lead to connection on the court, which will lead to a defensive rotation in the closing seconds of a tight game where Nicholas Baer swats the ball out of Frank Kaminsky's hands leading to a breakaway dunk by Troy Skinner to win the game. It may not happen, but it might, and I choose to believe in hope.

Maybe posting about this encounter outside of the hallowed halls of Wrigley onto the hallowed forums of Hawkeye Nation won't do much either, but maybe 99topdawg is inspired a little to be nice to the secretary on his way to Jimmy Johns for a Beach Club unwich, and maybe InGoodCo gives his neighbor a nod hello tonight even though his neighbor listens to The Space Between by Dave Matthews a little too loudly in the backyard while he audibly cries, and maybe tksirius, to the delight of his wife, tosses the container of ham into the recycling after he nabs the last slice, instead of leaving it for her to throw away. Maybe that means something to her, and maybe that's what it's all about.

 

[Ree4]

What are we even doing? Here? On this Earth? Is it to besmirch well-intentioned others' pursuit of a little sweetness in this life? I don't think so, Fryowa. We all want a little connection as we set adrift on this ocean of life, a little something that says we're not alone, some eye contact, a wry smile, a polite 'ope.' So you're right, Fryowa, maybe my positive interaction with the McCaffery Three may have been insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but maybe, just maybe that tiny moment of connection will lead to connection on the court, which will lead to a defensive rotation in the closing seconds of a tight game where Nicholas Baer swats the ball out of Frank Kaminsky's hands leading to a breakaway dunk by Troy Skinner to win the game. It may not happen, but it might, and I choose to believe in hope.

Maybe posting about this encounter outside of the hallowed halls of Wrigley onto the hallowed forums of Hawkeye Nation won't do much either, but maybe 99topdawg is inspired a little to be nice to the secretary on his way to Jimmy Johns for a Beach Club unwich, and maybe InGoodCo gives his neighbor a nod hello tonight even though his neighbor listens to The Space Between by Dave Matthews a little too loudly in the backyard while he audibly cries, and maybe tksirius, to the delight of his wife, tosses the container of ham into the recycling after he nabs the last slice, instead of leaving it for her to throw away. Maybe that means something to her, and maybe that's what it's all about.