I watched the Cubs play in the World Series with my dad and it was awesome.

“You do realize that for what we’d pay for a single ticket, we could book a really great trip somewhere, right,” my dad said to me as we debated whether or not to buy a last minute ticket to Game 5 of the World Series at Wrigley Field on Sunday afternoon.

I never inherited my dad’s practical side.

Part of the reason why he was so successful in life was because he has always thought of the long game, whereas even at 34, I’m not one who thinks more than 72 hours into the future.

But, he was 100% right. He and I were having a conversation about whether or not we should spring for a pair of last minute tickets to the World Series at Wrigley Field, a sentence that, even though this World Series is headed to a sixth game, is still so patently absurd that I cannot believe I’m typing it.

Ticket prices for the three games at Wrigley, as has been widely reported, have been astronomical, approaching Super Bowl levels. But, after the Cubs lost Game 4 to go down 3–1 in the series, there was a dip in the market. Bleacher seats were available on the resale market for as little as $700 before fees were factored in, or roughly 1/4 what the price floor for that same section was for Game 3, the first World Series game played at Wrigley Field in 71 years.

“But, I want to have that experience with you.”

That…that’s what got me. And that’s what almost got both of us to spend a patently absurd amount of money, so we could have that experience together.

On the surface, my dad and I are about as different as two human beings can be. He likes golf, I don’t have the patience for it. He’s a planner, I’m more of a spur of the moment type of guy. He doesn’t drink often, I…well, I do. We’ve always enjoyed a close relationship, but as human beings, we’re fundamentally different people.

But the one thing that has always brought us together is baseball, and specifically the Cubs. He brought me to my first-ever game at Wrigley in 1987 when I was five years old before the ballpark had lights. I brought him to his first-ever game in the bleachers six years ago for his birthday. After covering the 2015 National League Division Series clincher against the Cardinals, the first time the Cubs had ever clinched a playoff series at Wrigley Field, he was the first person I called once I had filed my story and finished wrapping up interviews. I had spent the night talking baseball with complete strangers, but talking baseball with strangers is a lot different than talking baseball with your old man.

It had been years, though, since he and I had actually watched a Cubs playoff game together, long enough to where I can’t remember the last time we had done so. But with the Cubs in the World Series, this isn’t any ordinary season nor is this any ordinary Cubs team, and my fiscally responsible dad was thinking about taking the plunge and doing something…well, fiscally irresponsible.

Once in a lifetime, right?

“How about I come down and we can watch the resale market to see if ticket prices wind up coming down,” he told me right around 2 o’clock yesterday afternoon.

So, he drove into the city and met up with me at my sister’s place in Lincoln Park, all the while I furiously hit the refresh button on multiple ticket resale prices to see if ticket prices would come down closer to game time.

They didn’t, of course. Not with such a limited supply of tickets to begin with coupled with the demand generated by many wanting to see a World Series game in person at Wrigley Field, cost be damned. Tickets continued to hover around a floor of $1300 or so for an actual seat before taxes and fees.

$1300 can buy you a lot of pizza and beer, plus my sister’s place was heated and had clean bathrooms, so at about 6, we kiboshed the idea of going, took his dog for a walk, and braced ourselves for an emotional rollercoaster of a game.

I’m not going to remember much about the game itself, other than the fact that the Cubs won and the four of us (including my sister and her husband) were cheering loudly enough to where my dad’s poor dog decided she had had enough of us and left the room. Not quite the same as being at Wrigley, but all things considered, better than watching it at Wrigley by myself while knowing he was at home.

But what I am going to remember is the fact that I actually got to watch an Cubs World Series game with my dad, something neither of us thought was going to happen in our lifetimes, and that was a really cool thing.

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