Day 220: Let there be lights!

     Harry Grossman had seen a lot in his 91 years on the planet. In the very year of his birth, Carter Harrison Jr. ascended to the mayorship of Chicago.  When he was but a babe of 4 years old, the White Sox came to town(and the Chicago Auto Show started up).  At the age of 11 he saw the Cubs win it all for the second time in a row. He had just blown out the candles on his 18th birthday cake when the Eastland sent 800 souls to the bottom of the Chicago River. He was 22 years old as the city went through the race riots of 1919(which of course were partially fueled by Bill Thompson himself). At the age of 36, he might have swung by the Century of Progress fair(which saw the opening up of the Adler Planetarium) and perhaps he attended the first ever All-Star Game. At 44, he may have read in the Tribune about how Fermi had just done something underneath Stagg Field. At the age of 58, he may have voted for Richard J. Daley, not knowing the political dynasty that was imminent. When he was 82, he might have read about some young kid named Steve Dahl blowing up a bunch of records down on the South Side.  But it was at the ripe old age of 91 that Mr. Grossman really made his mark.

     The Date: August 8, 1988. The place: Wrigley Field. What seemed like half of the city (and all of the media) was out in force. For once, the eyes of the baseball world focused on the Cubs in the midst of another forgettable season. For tonight, the lights were to go on at Wrigley. After 40 years of delay, massive neighborhood resistance, and a threat by MLB to move playoff games to Busch Stadium if lights weren't installed, the team had finally spent much of that year putting light towers atop the field. The night of the big reveal was here, and no expense was spared. The CSO stood behind home plate and played "Also Sprach Zarathustra". All kinds of dignitaries were present, and Harry Caray was decked out in a tux for the occasion. At the appointed time, the crowd was let in a countdown, which led up to the now 91 year old Harry Grossman flipping the switch and finally bringing nighttime baseball to the Friendly Confines.

     If you think that the intrigue stopped here, then clearly you don't know the idea of the "Cubbie Occurrence". After Rick Sutcliffe was nearly blinded by exploding flashbulbs, a few innings went by without incident. Then the skies opened up. For more than 3 hours, the crowds waited and waited ad nauseum, hoping for the downpours to cease. The reason for the long delay? Well, WGN held the broadcast rights to the game on the 8th, but NBC held the rights for the next day's game. While WGN was stalling, the players got tired of all the waiting and decided to have some fun. Ryne Sandberg immediately roped up some of the players, including  a young pitcher named Greg Maddux, and then promptly started using the giant tarp protecting the infield as a giant slip-n-slide. Although the action provided a bevy of laughs to the attendees at the game, ultimately the crowd went home disappointed, as the game was cancelled. NBC ended up televising the first OFFICIAL night game the next night on the 9th. But that game on the 8th goes down in History as the first game ever played, replete with all the ceremony and ritual.