Cub for a day: taking part in spring training was a dream come true for Nextel Cup champion Kurt Busch

Matt Crossman

Michael Barrett, a catcher for the Cubs, steps through the netting into the batting cage. Pitcher Ryan Dempster sets a ball on a tee for the new guy wearing No. 97, a classic beanpole. There's no name on the jersey, so Barrett has no idea who the newbie is.

Until he sees the player's face.

"Holy s--!" Barrett says. "What are you doing here?"

The batter smiles. Yes, he is Kurt Busch, the reigning Nextel Cup champion, and what he's doing here is enjoying the spoils of his title, spending the day hanging out at the Cubs' spring training facility in Mesa, Ariz.

Busch has been a Cubs fan his whole life. Growing up in Las Vegas, he didn't have a local big-league sports team to call his own, so he picked the Cubs because his parents lived in Chicago shortly before he was born.

He has more than embraced his adopted team. In 2003, Busch flew on a private jet to catch some playoff action; ultimately, his Cubs lost Game 7 of the NLCS. "It's a good thing they didn't make it to the World Series," he says, "because I probably would've missed a race."

Busch arrives at HoHoKam Park at midmorning and finds the Cubs are more than expecting him; they are prepared for him. The equipment manager is a racing fan, which explains the 97--his car number--on his jersey.

While changing into the uniform, Busch first hears what he will hear over and over--one of the team's coaches wants to thank him. It's like a bad joke. At least a half-dozen Cubs players, coaches and officials tell Busch the coach had money on him in this year's California race and his third-place finish paid dividends.

Busch and Dempster play catch along the first base line, then walk past the right field wall, toward a batting cage. Along the way, some players recognize Busch, some don't. Manager Dusty Baker breaks into a wide grin when Busch approaches. The two have met previously and greet each other like old friends before Busch takes batting practice.

After taking a couple of respectable cuts in the cage, Busch heads back toward the main field but gets starry-eyed when he spots former Cub Ryne Sandberg, his all-time favorite player. As he hustles over to greet Sandberg, Busch says his bio in the NASCAR media guide lists someone else (Andre Dawson) as his favorite. "I've got to get that changed," he says.

Busch, who briefly met Sandberg at an All-Star Game, tells Sandberg how much he admires him and how much he was an inspiration to young ballplayers.

Sandberg tells Busch he will be the grand marshal (he'll get to say, "Gentlemen, start your engines") for the Nextel Cup race July 10 in Chicago. "I'd like to throw a little 'Holy cow' in there," he says.

Later, Busch kicks himself for not congratulating Sandberg on getting elected to the Hall of Fame.

When Busch gets back to the main field, dozens of fans ask for his autograph. He finds out signing a round ball is tougher then signing a flat picture. When a kid asks for the black bat Busch used in practice and has been carrying all morning, Busch hands it over.

After eating in the clubhouse and watching warmups from the dugout, Busch takes his seat in the stands, behind home plate, and waits for the game to start. This is his first Cubs spring training game, although when he went to the University of Arizona, he would cut class to go to other teams' exhibition games.

These days, he attends baseball games to get away from the stress of the hectic Nextel Cup schedule. He says he has been to about half of the big-league baseball stadiums, plus some no longer in use, and plans to visit those in New York, Toronto and Arlington, Texas, this season. He has a complete major league schedule in his briefcase, and he has marked the games he hopes to attend. For example, he hopes to go to New York for a Cubs-Yankees game during the weekend of the first Michigan race.

Naturally, Wrigley Field is his favorite stadium. In his first game there, the Cubs scored five times in the bottom of the ninth and tied the game, then won in extra innings. "It was unreal. That paid my dues for being a Cubs fan for so many years," he says.

Every Cubs fan on earth has been there. "I don't even know what team they played," he says. "I was out in the bleachers drinking."

There, too.

The things you learn sitting next to a guy at a ballgame.

Busch met his girlfriend, Eva Bryan, on a blind date. By that time, Busch had established himself as a star in the biggest racing circuit in the country. But the friend who set them up told Bryan that Busch was a veterinarian. "She probably wouldn't have come to meet a redneck racer," Busch says, jokingly.

The date was on a Sunday after a race at Pocono. Busch finished second, which meant media obligations made him terribly late. The date happened anyway, and Bryan didn't mind when she found out he was a racecar driver instead of a veterinarian.

Maybe the friend should have said Busch was a ballplayer. Here he is, taking batting practice in the cage. Hall of Fame pitcher Ferguson Jenkins hollers advice: "Be aggressive. It's not like kissing your sister." Barrett, who's now pitching, throws mostly fastballs.

When Busch, who played 10 years of Little League ball before trading his batting gloves for driving gloves, smacks a few liners, Barrett says, "Who said NASCAR drivers aren't athletes? It wasn't me."

Still, Busch has a few holes in his swing. He's a dead high-ball hitter and struggles to handle what little bit of a curve Barrett has.

And there's one other thing: Everything Busch hits goes left. What's he swinging with, his steering wheel?

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COPYRIGHT 2008 Gale, Cengage Learning