Quotes About Wrigley

Excellent value relative to the week investment of time....To my mind, this is the definitive course on leadership.

I love baseball history, and Wrigley Field is as good as it gets when it comes to that.

I love Chicago. I love Wrigley Field.

When you talk about the American League, you think of Fenway. When you talk about the National League, you think of Wrigley and the fan base that they have in Chicago.

I lived in an apartment near Wrigley Field.

Brimming with fortitude, Wrigley wears its ability to brave the elements like a badge of honor. More so than any other ballpark in America, it has witnessed blizzards and subzero temperatures. More importantly, it stands as testament to decades of suffering fans, their pain littered throughout the seats and corridors.

The clubhouses are pretty... uh... Outdated. You get pretty crammed in there for three or four days. But it still is one of those places where, for me, I look around and pinch myself just thinking, 'I'm playing at Wrigley field.'

Wrigley, beyond its status as a baseball icon, has an undeniable positive energy all its own, which penetrates all who enter its gates.

If you've been apartment or home shopping and left disgusted because a realtor brought you into a space that hadn't been updated since 1977, you've experienced the visitors clubhouse at Wrigley. Ceilings on top of you, lockers smashed together, plastic tables cluttering the floor and carpet ripped straight off the Brady Bunch stairs.

I'm a Chicago Cubs fan. I grew up in Libertyville, Illinois, and attended my first game at Wrigley Field when I was four.

I'm a sucker for Wrigley, so I feel I'll probably be a sucker for Fenway, too.

If Coors Field is the flashy youngster, Wrigley is a wise and weathered, tattered, beat up old man, but rich in charisma and character.

Everything within takes place after Jack died and before my mom and I drowned in a burning ferry in the cool tannin-tinted Guaviare River, in east-central Colombia, with forty-two locals we hadn't yet met. It was a clear and eyeblue day, that day, as was the first day of this story, a few years ago in January, on Chicago's North Side, in the opulent shadow of Wrigley and with the wind coming low and searching off the jagged half-frozen lake.