![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtSXkHaJLrm0BtEJ305c-QgsmAgstb-za_1XSqo-7d7qCd4Ad_qtjvgAzKB6uGszGLlKlsKC4vgE4crj8ko4H4LlTzhxDnQoJ3Wqjc4GzGIDSph7gNRZ-o28nQ8Jcf7m8goG2xnUrwMiku/s320/Harry_Caray.jpg)
Shown here is the commemorative statue of Caray at the southeast corner outside Wrigley. On home game days, it's mobbed by shutterbug tourists. It depicts a terrified Caray attempting to escape a mob of ghost children swirling around him and sucking him into the hell of Wrigley Field. I don't know where the ghosts come from; they are perhaps children abandoned at Wrigley, or the lost childhoods of kids raised by the players. Or they represent the wrathful lost innocence of people foolish enough to believe in the Cubs during Caray's announcing days. Or they're just hallucinations brought on by all of Caray's drinking. All I know is the statue is way creepy. The artist did do a good job of capturing his fat, though.
Here's a little piece of Americana. Obviously broadcast shortly after the 1984 season, when, briefly, there was hope. The predictions of Cubs glory look kind of funny and/or sad now.