By Patrick F. Cannon

The Chicago Cubs won their home opener last Friday and are pegged to win the National League’s Central Division. The capacity crowd at Wrigley Field looked like they were at a Bear’s game, since they were bundled up against a temperature in the 40s and a stiff breeze.

            Assuming a good season, the “friendly confines” will see many capacity crowds, who will pay ticket prices based on the day of the week and the quality of the Cub’s opponent. You could pay as little as $20, but the average will be about $60, with more desirable seats going for more than $100.

            If you’re hungry, a simple hot dog will go for about $10; a slice of pizza for $14; a pretzel (hopefully with some mustard) goes for $8; basic beer is about $10, but if you have more elevated taste, a craft version will set you back $16; something called a Beer Bat is $30 (but you get to keep the bat-shaped container it comes in); and your sweet tooth could be assuaged with a $8 soft serve. But more exotic fare is also available!

            New this year will be jibaritos, baseball doughnuts, and fried ranch bombs. Perhaps some explanations might help. A jibarito is a sandwich favored by Puerto Ricans in Chicago that substitutes fried green plantains for bread. For the uninitiated, a plantain is a little banana that’s inedible until it’s fried. The filling could be pork, ham, or any meat, along with lettuce, tomato, and other stuff.

The baseball doughnut is indeed a doughnut in the shape of a baseball, with icing that simulates stitching. When you buy it, you can fill it with a choice of blueberry or strawberry jam, which you inject yourself!  A ranch bomb is a roundish pastry filled with stuff like cheese, bacon, or other stuff with ranch (as in ranch dressing) spices, deep fried and served with “spicy honey drizzle.” When the Boston Red Sox are in town, Wrigley will honor their visit by adding lobster rolls to the menu. If you get one in Maine, you will pay about $30. Of course, Chicago isn’t Maine, so you will pay more.  

Anyway, if the famous “family of four” wants to go to a Cubs game this year, they can expect to pay around $300 for an average game. Back in the late 1940s, my brother and I would go to games at Comisky Park. I was about 10 and he was a year older. We went without our parents. Can you even imagine that now? Anyway, we would take the 67^th Street streetcar to State Street, then transfer to the State Street version to 35^th Street and the ballpark. The fare was then 10 cents.

General admission was 50 cents. I don’t remember what a hot dog cost, but I doubt it was more than 25 cents. Add 10 cents for Coke, and our outing would have set our parents out a grant total of about two bucks. In today’s money, that’s about $25, more than worth it to get rid of us for an entire afternoon.

You may not believe this, but around 1970, a hot dog was pretty much your only dining choice at Wrigley Field. Of course, you could get peanuts and Cracker Jacks. You might have been able to get a soft drink other than Coke, but I think only one beer brand would have been available, Budweiser as I recall. You could also get coffee, tea, hot broths, and hot chocolate.

I know this because for a time I worked for a company called Compact Industries, who franchised office coffee services. Our Chicago franchisee, Compact Coffee Service of Chicago, supplied these beverages to Wrigley. Can I admit they were dreadful? Phil Wrigley, who still owned the Cubs then, didn’t care. Our products were cheap, so he could sell them at a handsome profit. I wondered how much coffee or any hot drink they sold on opening day this year?  I found out coffee will set you back about $6, which seems like a bargain when it’s in the 40s. One hopes the weather will soon improve and coffee sales decline accordingly. By the way, you can get a double dog with fries at the famous Gene & Jude’s on River Road in River grove for $5.55. It’s takeout only, but you can always eat your Chicago dog in the car while listening to the Cubs on the radio.

Copyright 2025, Patrick F. Cannon