Memories of Mr. Cub

 Ernie Banks died Friday.

By now you've most likely read a few stories about him...maybe a lot more than a few.

When it comes to Chicago celebrities, especially sports celebs, there's Ernie and Michael Jordan at the top. Banks has always been more accessible. If you see him around town, you felt like you could go up to him and have a chat...and when you did, he would talk with you. It was always amazing seeing him. He was like a regular guy. But you never forgot that you were talking to Ernie Banks,

If you've lived in Chicago for any length of time, you probably have a story about an Ernie Banks encounter. I have a few and since I have a forum here, I get to tell mine.

The is something that I'm not really sure happened but I've been told it did. Get this...

It's 1960. I'm eight years old. I'm going to my first Chicago Cub game at Wrigley Field. I'm with my older, beloved cousins Sharon and Carol and my brother Randy. We're in the bleachers. It's an exciting day.

The 1960 Cubs were a bad team. They were playing the Cincinnati Reds. The Reds had Frank Robinson and Vada Pinson. They played in the World Series a year later. The game was likely to end badly for Cub fans. The Reds won. No surprise....it was the first of many Cub losses in my lifetime.

After the game, we stuck around to get player's autographs. It's what kids do.

We're in the player's parking lot and run up to a Cub every time he comes out. I have a scorecard full of autographs but there's really only one that I want.

Here comes Ernie...Mr. Cub...#14.

Every kid made a beeline towards him. Supposedly Ernie doesn't sign autographs after the team loses but that's not stopping anyone from trying.

Ernie finally makes it to his car and I'm very close behind. The crowd is pushing forward like it's general seating at a rock and roll concert. He opens the back door to the car and the crowd pushes me into the back seat.

I'm sitting in the back seat of Ernie Banks' car.

His twin boys are next to me. Hey...maybe Ernie is going to take me home? Nahhhh.

He reaches out...grabs my hand...and I'm out of the car.

Oh yeah....no autograph!

Pretty heady stuff for an eight year old at his first ball game.

I've had a few other encounters with him through the years.

In 1980, I was working a basketball game as a photographer. He asked to look at my camera and then proceeded to give me advice on how to work the gig.

In the early 1990's, I was living in the Los Angeles area. I was working for a large wireless company and Ernie was at their Christmas party. I was one of the few who recognized him. My wife and I talked with him for a few minutes. We didn't really talk baseball or Chicago. Ernie was giving newlyweds marriage advice. He knew about marriage. He was on #4. Maybe he was right....I'm no longer married to her.

There are a few others but they're nothing compared to a fifty-five year old memory of an eight year old boy.

Ernie Banks was a breath of fresh air in a world that could often use a positive point of view.

As for me....it's just another piece of my childhood that has disappeared.