I used to collect baseball cards. In fact, I had so many baseball cards that I needed a special “baseball card binder” to keep them in. In middle school, one of my favorite excursions was a trip to Atlanta, Georgia to watch the Braves play; John Smotlz was super-hot, and I dreamed nightly of autographed baseballs and season tickets. Sadly, I settled on going to one game, and before too long the shine had worn off, so to speak. Apparently, when living in Chicago, being a mediocre baseball fan is unacceptable, or at least frowned upon. But even though I’ve been in Chicago for 6 years, only 1 member of the Wetzel household has taken a true liking to...
