Pizza for the Bleachers, In Deerfield, IL
My son Anthony is a terrific center fielder, and I am a hungry old bum. Traveling to a game in Deerfield, IL he found a fresh-cut outfield, and I found a great pizza pie to eat on the bleachers.
Craving something greasy, I took a seventh-inning stretch during Anthony’s batting warm-up. I walked around, and I quickly found my way into town.
Il Forno Pizza stood there, the perfect Italian restaurant just waiting for me it seemed, with fresh purple flowers that made a man’s man take notice. I ordered a large meat-lover’s pizza and a small serving of baked mostaccioli for my wife, had them boxed up, and brought them back to the game.
The pizza was still hot when I reached the bleachers, steaming, crunchy like I asked for it, with very fresh sausage. The mostaccioli was all gone before I had the chance to even try it.
The game had still not yet begun, and Anthony spotted me back on the bleachers before he took the field in the top of the first. He knows that he makes me proud. I think that day I made him proud too, enthusiastic and on-time, sharing pizza with home and visiting fans alike.
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