So, Peat and I will be in Chicago in early May and if I adhere to one rule my whole life, it’s this one — never visit a Major League Baseball town and miss a ballgame. In fact, it’s such a strict rule that I often have a hard time visiting a Major League Baseball town when baseball is not in season — it doesn’t seem right to be in the same city as a dormant stadium.

In my most orthodox ways, I will be getting tickets to go to the Cubs game on May 10th and yes, it is a day game. Isn’t it kind of a crime to see the Cubs in the dark? Forgive me for being old school, but I still can’t accept the Designated Hitter, which is why I refer to myself as a National League girl. So, Peat and I will hopefully be somewhere at Wrigley (the best place to watch a game on earth — new stadiums got nothing on this place) on May 10th cheering for the Cubbies!

So how does communication play into all this? Well, we are attending the game with none other than Steve Crescenzo, Chief Hallucinator of Crescenzo Communications. He and his wife Cindy already have tickets to the game and Peat and I have already devised some Social Media tactics to have a networking meeting from our side of the stadium to where they are sitting. Twitter anyone? I could see the conversation on my chat program now:

TwitterIM: Nova: Just spilled beer on one of the bleacher bums. Told them I loved the Cubs — all was good.

TwitterIM: Steve: Writing notes on hot dog napkins for my next blog…will the Old Style beer make these illegible and incoherent tomorrow?

TwitterIM: Peat: I could build some software using algorithms to calculate the amount of hot dogs purchased when the Cubs are down versus when they are up.

TwitterIM: Steve: Trying to find a way to explain to Peat that Cubs fans are enthusiastic regardless of the score. Note on napkin — write to MLB and explain that it would be historic and symbolic for the Cubs to win in 2008 (100 years after the last World Series win) and can’t they make something happen?

Okay, so maybe Twitter wouldn’t be the most efficient way to interact during a baseball game or to interact in general (is the jury still out on this one?), but sometimes when you are navigating the corporate world, it feels like you are sitting in the bleachers, while everyone else is sitting behind the dugout. When you are behind the dugout, you get to hear all the action — the crack of the bat, the ball hitting the glove. Out in the bleachers, you have to keep one eye on the beer stand line and you have to scream and wave like a madman in hopes that one of the fielders might throw you the ball. When talking to employees, does it ever seem like they are waiting for someone to throw them the ball? Lots of motivated people who get lost in the crowd. It’s up to us communicators to get employees in on the action — convince our management teams to throw them the ball — they shouldn’t have to act like madmen to get it.

Oh! And never fear — we’ll be catching up with Cindy and Steve before or after the game…remember when face-to-face meetings were all the rage?