Waveland Avenue: The Game Outside of the Game

At the start of the baseball season, in the earliest and coldest days of April, Cubs fans all across Chicago prepare for a time-honored ritual—the start of baseball. Everyone has their first-game tradition, whether it’s watching the game with family or going to the game with a friend. For a select group who sit perched on the intersection of Waveland and Kenmore outside of Wrigley Field, their tradition is about as unique as it gets. This group of “ballhawks,” as they call themselves, sit patiently waiting for a batting practice or game home run ball to be hit so far that it completely clears the left-field bleachers and makes it all the way to Waveland Avenue. And it’s not just on opening day they’re waiting on Waveland, but every home game. I myself am a ballhawk, and I sit, waiting patiently for baseballs on Waveland Avenue.

The origin of the ballhawks at Wrigley Field dates back to when the ballpark was first built. There are no records of the ballhawks from this era, but some of the old-timers will tell you about their uncle who would come out to Waveland after his lunch break and try to catch a Joe Tinker home run. Ball-hawking really became popular during the steroid era, and Sammy Sosa would practically hit every ball clean out of the ballpark. Fans would show up, just hoping to catch one home run, and end up sticking around for years to follow.

The ballhawks on Waveland Avenue are well known to baseball fans. There are three principal players—Moe, Rich and Dave. Moe Mullins, who’s in his late sixties, has been out on Waveland since he was thirteen years old. He has caught more game home runs on Waveland than any other baseball fan in any other ballpark, ever. He’s a curmudgeonly guy, occasionally cracking jokes, but the second he picks a ball out of the sky, it’s over for anybody standing anywhere remotely near him. I didn’t think it was humanly possible for a person his age to run that fast, yet he somehow does. He is a pretty warm guy once he opens up to you. He retired from his job a few years back, and basically lives on Waveland. He even starred in a documentary about the Ballhawks. The documentary, narrated by Bill Murray, is about the construction of a new wall in left field that would reduce the number of baseballs hit out of the park significantly.

Then there’s Rich Burke. He’s the oldest of all the guys, at about seventy-five. He’s the guy who’s always getting ticked off when a ballhawk steps out of line. Once, he yelled at me for playing catch too close to passers-by. He’s not so quick on his feet anymore, so he doesn’t catch as many balls, but he still shows up to every game. He has a load of game-home runs, but not as many as Moe. Rich has epic stories, recalling some of Waveland’s most famous home runs, pointing out exactly where the ball landed, and who knocked over whom to get it. Occasionally, fans will pass by asking about the famous Dave Kingman home run, which they think hit a certain porch down Kenmore, but Rich is quick to correct them, explaining that it bounced off another porch. He’s a veteran fact-keeper.

Finally, there’s Dave Davison. He’s younger than the rest, maybe in his mid-forties, and has a little cart out of which he sells batting practice balls and his homemade baseball jewelry. This makes him the only ballhawk with a business venture on Waveland. Some think he’s just a hustler, trying to make some extra dough, but he’s really a passionate, entertaining guy. Dave definitely does the most heckling, but he looks out for me. He always tells me where to position myself to catch a ball. Whenever I don’t listen, there always seems to be a ball hit...