I wonder what Nomar’s first impression of Chicago was. First, it was the reception he got from the entire Cubs locker room on his arrival at Wrigley on Sunday. As if its not good enough to be immediately accepted by your teammates, he got to meet the inhabitants of Wrigley Field.

Now, when I purchased my tickets for this game from a season ticket holder friend, I had it planned out that the great one could be going for #300. Nomar was just icing on the cake. And, boy, was it ever. At 1:07 Sunday afternoon, as Nomar Garciaparra’s name was announced to the masses, I could have sworn there was more concrete raining down from the noise. Wrigley Field was up for grabs. In his almost 1:30 standing ovation, before the game, I remind you, he raised his hand, waived to the crowd, almost begging for them to shut up. What did we do? We cheered louder. And we kept cheering, and it could have been one of the most satisfying moments of my Cub fan life.

Well, Nomar has been a member of the Chicago Cubs for less than 48 hours, that has given Cub fans no time to fall in love with the guy with the strange last name, right? Ha. Wrong. As I ventured to the restroom out of my perch from section 204 after the huge Cubbies rally that included an RBI base hit by Garciaparra, I was assured that Cubs fans were head-over-heels. Inside the restroom, in the normal hot-and-stanky Wrigley restroom tradition, 100 full grown men, all who had most evidently been over-served all began screaming NOMAHHHHHHHH!!!! at the top of their lungs, in unison. We like Nomar.

So, Cub fans, here’s what we need to do. We need to cheer for Nomar. He comes to the plate, we need to stand up, scream, and cheer for our newest beloved shortstop. Folks, we all need to do our little part on keeping the best shortstop since Ernie Banks in Chicago. We’ll be a better team in the long run with Nomar Garciaparra playing shortstop.

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As for this Maddux guy, I love this man. Not only for being the single-handed reason that Gabor Bako still has a job, but for his selflessness, and for the kind of teammate he is. Unlike the jag-off that is Roger Clemens, Maddux didn’t come out wearing special patches on his jersey, or use 28 different gloves to make a profit, he just wanted to pitch. But the most amazing part of Maddux on that steamy afternoon on the north side, he took himself out of the game. To him, Dempster, Farnsworth, Remlinger, Mercker, and company could hold a lead better than he. That’s the true measure of a man, humility.