The Cubs Jersey

I wouldn't have gone out except for the rain delay, but then I didn't expect to see what I saw when I got to the bar.

I arrived there early in the tenth inning, and was amazed at how packed the place was. The lead bartender pulled me a beer, and rolled his eyes at me as he handed it over. He and I had talked baseball there before, but there was too much noise to talk tonight. I found myself a standing-room spot where I could see the TVs, all of them repeating the live telecast.

Most of the bar had been there for the whole game, it seemed, none longer than the folks by the pool table. Six people, coupled up, dressed like most of the bar as Cubs fans. I had particular respect for the lady in the Sandberg jersey, you don't see many of those anymore.

That jersey must have been borrowed - she wore it over a short dress, and the hem of it hit her just barely over the hip. I was turning to survey all the TVs when I spotted her, sitting on a high stool on the far side of the pool table, knees not quite together. It was an easy decision to watch the game on the TV just behind her.

The baseball drama continued, and took quite some time. You can read all about that anywhere, it's the most famous tenth inning we've had lately. I really did watch the game - but I never really took my eyes off her, either.

I kept thinking "Did she really dress the way I think she dressed? Be cool, be cool." Even so, I flinched a little when her shot came up in the pool game, and she lifted one leg briefly as she dismounted the stool.

Me, the one guy in the crowded bar in the right spot. Her hemline, rising. Only shadows to be seen, but certainly no trace of panties in the glimpse I got. Holy shit.

Her shot took a while, as everyone watched baseball drama, but she soon returned to her high stool. Her left knee was toward me again as she sat, and she crossed her right ankle high above it, letting that hemline fall as she sat on the stool's very edge. It must have looked innocent to her boyfriend and everyone else in the bar, but I could see the back of that right thigh all the way up, the curve of her ass meeting it at the top, and shadows just concealing the sweetest beaver shot. She positioned herself, and stayed perfectly still.

She talked over her shoulder to another couple sitting beside her along the wall for a minute or two, head occasionally turning forward, baseball drama keeping everyone's eyes glued to a screen. My eyes wandered to hers, and she may have been watching the TV that was behind me - but she may have been watching my face. Neither one of us quite smiled.

A moment or two later, her boyfriend finished his turn at the table, and she stood quickly to stand in front of him, where he and the other pool players almost surrounded her. Once again, I was the one man in the bar with a clear view of her body. As she looked up at her man and traded a few words, the bar erupted in celebration at the latest RBI.

She made a face at her grinning boyfriend, and glanced just for an instant in my direction. In all the chaos, she grabbed that jersey at each hip and swiftly tugged it upward. The dress came along with it.

Her legs were just slightly apart. I saw her bare navel. I saw that neat little V of hair, trimmed almost into invisibility. I wanted to spread her wide over my face and stare at her for days.

She let the jersey go, and grinned back at her smiling boyfriend. In all the ruckus, I think the three of us were the only ones that knew that flash had happened.

She stepped away then, and didn't return to her stool for the rest of the game, and in the pandemonium and baseball tension that followed I lost track of her. Eventually, we must have left by different exits. I imagine her boyfriend was eager to pull that jersey right off over her head, so I'm sure she was gone as quick as she could be.

Still, I'm so happy about all of the drought-breaking for everyone, and I'll quietly add that moment to all my baseball memories.

Thanks, Sandberg.