The scenario runs something like this: Cookie Rojas, the Cubs' first-base coach, strolls into the local Seno's men's wear store before the opening game of the 1978 World Series. "How many dinner jackets you got?" he asks.
The salesman proudly thrusts out his chest. "Over 400—shapes, sizes and colors for every occasion," he says. "What sort of occasion do you have in mind?"
"A ball game."
"A ball game. Very good, sir. Very...appropriate. Any particular color?"
"I was thinking of something in true blue."
"True blue. Yes, charming. Of course we don't have any color with exactly that name, but we do have a dinner jacket that would match that ridiculous Cub cap you're pointing to."
"That's the ticket," says Rojas. "Deliver them to Wrigley Field."
"All you have. Give them to the bleacher bums. Tell them Cookie wants them looking nice for the Series. Say, you got an extra-large? Make sure you bring an extra-large for the fat guy by the foul pole."
"Fat guy by the foul pole?"