CHICAGO -- It was a deceptively cold Friday morning. The sun was out for a second straight day, mischievously, but it didn't help.

"Just pretend it's Opening Day," a man with no hat said warmly. "It's always cold on Opening Day."

The hatless man was wearing a long red scarf and a jacket down to his knees and he said over and over again that he just wants the season to start. He's heading to Mesa, Ariz., on Monday, joining snowbirds and spring breakers and Ron Santo, all excited to watch a bunch of millionaires jog and play pepper games.

The man with a hint of a bald spot and no tie was shaking the hands of Cubs fans and undercover ticket brokers who waited in a long line on the Waveland Ave. side of Wrigley Field for the right to pay the Cubs a lot of money to watch a game in the coming months.

The hatless, tieless man was Tom Ricketts, the new owner of the Cubs, the guy who went from being a rich fan to a rich owner without losing an appreciation for the common touches, like the tiny cups of Dunkin' Donuts the family was passing out.

"Owners, they're just like us!"