Back behind the center field fence here, with the Yankees making yet another pitching change, a White Sox cameraman momentarily left his post. Dean Botsaris, 22, of Flushing, N.Y., used the opportunity to his advantage, peering into the camera to gain a new perspective on Chicago. Botsaris had already been to Wrigley Field and U.S. Cellular Field today -- each for the first time in his life -- but he wasn't yet finished soaking in the baseball atmosphere.

"You can't compare them because they're so different," he said. "You have one of the oldest stadiums there, and you have a new stadium here. These new stadiums are nice because of the technology, there's so much open area, you can see everything that's going on. But Wrigley Field -- it's old school, it's classic. You can't get that anymore."

No, you can't. And who knows when we'll be able to see something like this again, with both New York teams playing in Chicago on the same day. Botsaris, here with two of his childhood friends from Flushing, holds allegiance with the Mets. And while he couldn't decide which Chicago stadium he preferred, Justin Stein, 22, also of Flushing, knew right away.

"I feel like Wrigley's got a better atmosphere because it's more like New York," he said. "Everyone's fighting in the stands, but in a light-hearted manner."

Rooting for the Yankees to lose on the South Side, Stein and his friends found a better reception than they did at Wrigley, where Mets jerseys often draw some attention. And so they earned their fair share of stares all afternoon, returning most of them with a joke or a smirk.

"We're New Yorkers," Stein said. "We're obnoxious. Sorry."

So that's it. The Yankees won, the Mets lost, and all of these New Yorkers will soon head back east. Me, I'll be doing the same, with a whole new set of baseball experiences under my belt. Covering the game for the past two years, I've never felt so close to the pulse of a city. Forget the Bears, Bulls and Blackhawks. Chicago is a baseball town.

And I guess there is more to Chicago than deep dish pizza -- in three days here, I never even tried a slice. But I've ridden the "L" train, walked down the Magnificent Mile, hung out at the Cubby Bear and sat in two different sets of bleachers. Not bad for a day's work.

Still, it's a foreign city -- to me, it probably always will be. And so perhaps Botsaris, peering out at U.S. Cellular Field from behind its towering center field wall, put it best.

"Amazing," he said. "That's it. Nothing else is like New York -- but Chicago's close."

Some particularly ardent New York fans flew to Chicago on Tuesday simply to watch this doubleheader. Others, such as Shaun Clancy, had an added motive.

"I try to pick up souvenirs and stuff like that for my bar," Clancy said. "When people come in, you try to put up something that will remind them of what they're used to."

Clancy is the owner of Foley's Pub in midtown Manhattan -- yes, the same Foley's that famously banned "Danny Boy" earlier this year. Despite that, Foley's remains better known as a baseball bar, with paraphernalia from so many teams hanging on the walls. Over the years, Clancy has traveled to nearly 40 Major League stadiums in search of his loot, so he wasn't about to miss a chance to see two New York teams in the same city.

"Things like this don't happen too often," Clancy said. "When you get a chance to do something like this, you do it."

Taking a lap around U.S. Cellular Field, I quickly found my favorite feature. A wide, open-air concourse runs along the length of the outfield, creating a perfect spot for fans to grab some food, and, on cool nights like this, to stop and catch a half inning or so of the game. So as I proceeded to do just that, one Cubs fan -- apparently a leftover from this afternoon's game at Wrigley -- began arguing with a Sox supporter in his section.

"Kick him out!" a fellow Sox fan chimed in from the concourse. "This ain't Wrigley."

Indeed it wasn't. In fact, U.S. Cellular has almost nothing in common with Wrigley -- and that includes the food. While hot dogs and pretzels are the norm up north, the South Side boasts an entirely different set of options. This park doesn't just have an ice cream stand -- it has one that sells frozen bananas root beer floats. It doesn't just have a beer stand, but one that sells more than 10 different beers from various parts of the world.

There are stands that sell steak sandwiches, some that sell corned beef sandwiches and others that peddle BBQ brisket. There are stands that sell funnel cakes and corn dogs, and a few more that sell mixed drinks and margaritas. Options are everywhere.

After much debate and an entire lap around the stadium, I finally settled on a grilled chicken sandwich, curly fries and -- to keep my figure nice and trim -- a Mexican-style churro for dessert. The prices here, like at Wrigley, weren't too unreasonable, either.

What caught my eye even more than the food, however, was the sheer number of Yankees fans in attendance. Don't get me wrong -- the Mets were well-represented at Wrigley, too. But Yankee fans seem to travel as well as any in baseball, and tonight was no exception -- despite the game taking place nearly 800 miles west of the Bronx.

Then again, as one Yankee fan noted, "We don't need to travel. Enough of us live here."

Seemingly every time I've asked about the commute from Wrigley Field to U.S. Cellular, the answers have ranged from "dreadful" to "horrific." From the sound of them, I thought I might have been walking into a disaster this afternoon. Turns out I had nothing to fear.

The toughest part of the journey, in fact, was the hundred yards or so between the press gate at Wrigley and the steps up to Addison Station. Blocked by a line of buses on one side and a brick wall on the other, I shimmied my way toward the "L" amidst a sea of Cubs fans -- most of them singing, some of them screaming, nearly all of them happy.

With the line crawling slower than my patience could endure, I ducked around a corner and into a back entrance, which I had used earlier in the morning. Seemed smart, until I ran into another wall of Cubs fans as soon as I hit the stairs. There was no avoiding this.

So instead I waited in line like everyone else, eventually making my way toward the front, where station workers were collecting cash, and -- more importantly for my sake -- helping people to swipe their fare cards the correct way. This time, they must have seen me coming.

The train arrived without delay, soon heading back underground and popping out on the South Side half an hour later. Back in one of the last cars on the train, I even found a seat -- nearly everyone did -- and within 35 minutes we had arrived at 35th Street, the site of U.S. Cellular Field and the second half of Tuesday's Chicago doubleheader.

The difference between this park and Wrigley Field was instantly telling. Here, there were no bars, no pubs, no taverns. Save for a stray tailgate party or two, there weren't even many fans loitering about, most of them either heading toward the wide meeting area behind home plate or already milling into the park. Game time was still more than an hour away.

Certainly, this is baseball with a different pulse and a different personality. That's not to say it's better or worse -- after all, Chicago residents have argued that much for over a century. From my perspective it's still baseball, which on this night is all that really mattered.

The Wrigley Field bleachers are exactly what bleachers should be -- sunny, loud and fun. They also provide a prime view of the roof seating out across the street, where local real estate owners have planted full sets of bleachers on top of otherwise ordinary buildings. My colleague, MLB.com Cubs writer Carrie Muskat, tells me that the Cubs decided to take a cut from those ticket sales, rather than attempt to thwart them. Sounds like smart business to me.

As I was admiring those makeshift bleacher seats, a Cubs fan sitting in the last row of the real bleachers called out to a small boy, decked out in Cubs gear and walking below. 

"Hey buddy, guess what?" he said.

The child looked up, but said nothing. 

"Go Cubs!" the man yelled.

The child grinned.

Not everyone was in such a cheerful mood, however -- especially not after the Cubs piled on four more runs in the eighth inning to take an 8-1 lead. One group of Mets fans clung to a railing behind some box seats, hanging on every pitch of the late Cubs rally. When shortstop Ronny Cedeno blasted a grand slam to all but put the Mets away, Korrin Martin, 28, of Kenosha, Wisc., dropped to her knees, while her friend, Rob Piparo, 29, of New Brunswick, N.J., walked over to a pair of Cubs fans and solemnly shook their hands.

"I was kind of mad at him for that," Martin said. "You don't want to do that if you're a real Mets fan." 

For any Mets fans -- real or not -- the eventual 8-1 loss may not have been the ending that they anticipated, but it still couldn't completely spoil the fun. Not here. Not in Wrigley.

"I don't care," Piparo said. "This is like a heaven of baseball. I came here last night, too, and I felt like a little kid. It's like a cathedral. I don't even care if the Mets win or lose, it's just great to come out here." 

Now, with the game having ended and the fans spilling out onto the street, it's time for me to climb back up to Addison Station and head on over to U.S. Cellular Field.

There's still plenty more baseball to come.

Despite the Jose Reyes jerseys that dotted Wrigley Field's box seats and bleachers on Tuesday, this remains Chicago, where the Cubs and White Sox -- and certainly not the Mets or Yankees -- remain kings.  So the novelty of this day hasn't been lost on Illinois residents, who shared the intrigue of being able to watch their two hometown teams on the same day.

Major League Baseball has always attempted to keep one team at home while the other is on the road, so doubleheaders such as this one don't happen often. The Yankees and Mets simply stumbled into a different sort of Chicago experience.

"Just the fact that the Cubs and the Sox are in town on the same day is so rare," said Jamie Binder, 36, of Chicago. "It's not a once-in-a-lifetime chance, but it's pretty rare -- so why not come?"

Binder, a Cubs fan, came to the game with her brother, Mark, a White Sox fan. Like so many of the thousands who packed into Wrigley Field for Tuesday's matinee, they planned on jumping back on the Red Line after the game to head down to the South Side.

They, however, weren't as bold as some of the Yankees and Mets fans -- and even some of the White Sox fans -- who ventured out to Wrigley in jerseys in caps. Opting instead for plain shirts that hid their allegiances, the Binders watched this game in anonymity.

"He knows better than to wear his White Sox gear here," Jamie Binder said, before nodding her head south. "And I know better than to wear my Cubs gear over there."

They keep it basic here at Wrigley, and that makes sense. Other stadiums might boast concessions ranging from tacos to sushi to kielbasa to clam chowder, but the Cubs have always tended to stick to some more traditional fare: hot dogs, pretzels and beer.

To get the full Wrigley experience, of course, I needed to forego a meal in the press box in favor of the concession stand behind home plate. So there I was in the second inning, waiting in line and ordering.

"Just a hot dog," I said.

"Just a hot dog?" the cashier answered, raising her eyebrows. "Good choice."

It was a good choice -- simple yet solid. The dog set me back $3.75, while others buying soda and beer shelled out $4.50 and $6.25, respectively. Pricey, yes, but hardly criminal by ballpark standards. Not to mention that it would be difficult to leave this park anything less than satisfied -- especially not today, with the sun shining and the pitchers dueling.

So while I sat and enjoyed the hot dog, Mets starter Nelson Figueroa wriggled out of a bases-loaded jam to keep the Cubs off the board. Three innings in, the game was still scoreless, and the hot dog was gone. I can't promise I won't go buy another.

It turns out I'm not alone. 

Countless New Yorkers were already spilling in and out of Wrigleyville's bars and pubs by the time I got outside, some boasting Yankees jerseys and others siding with the Mets. Unlike at Yankee Stadium or Shea Stadium, where fans don't generally linger too long before heading inside to take their seats, the fans outside of Wrigley relax here for hours.

"Wrigley Field is the world's biggest beer garden," Alex Peters, a bouncer outside of Harry Caray's Tavern told me. "You can't beat a town that loves baseball this much." 

I couldn't argue. Instead, I headed inside the tavern, where Cubs fans were everywhere. Some sat at tables, while others stood behind the bar, gazing at one of nearly 30 flat screen televisions, each of them showing baseball highlights from the previous night.

Harry Caray's opened just a few weeks ago, changing its name from Hi-Tops to honor the legendary Cubs broadcaster. It's a Chicago destination in its own right, though while I weaved through the bar, I couldn't help but notice some East Coast representation. Plenty of New Yorkers had made the trip out here, too, and I stumbled across one of them -- Justin Shibilski, 31 of Aurora, Ill. -- staring at some Cubs paraphernalia on the wall. 

"I'm a huge Yankee fan," he said, while his girlfriend, Amy Chatt, walked up by his side. Chatt was a Cubs fan born and raised in Illinois, so for one day, they both could be pleased.

"When I first saw the schedule come out, we noticed this date right away," Shibilski said. "I said, 'Honey, we've got to go.' It's great because I hate the Mets, and she loves the Cubs." 

Back in the center of the room, a group of nine New York fans -- some for the Yankees, others for the Mets -- gathered for the third day of a three-day bachelor party.

Dave Piacente, 30, of Montauk, N.Y., was the groom-to-be. Despite having few connections to the city, he knew exactly how he wanted to spend his Tuesday morning.

"Tell Major League Baseball that doing things like this gets people to go to games," one of his friends, Jake Williams, 31, also of Montauk, said. "We could have gone anywhere for this bachelor party, but this made us want to go to Chicago." 

They were everywhere, in every corner of every bar, from Harry Caray's to Murphy's Bleachers to the Cubby Bear on Addison St. Even adding to the excitement was the knowledge that while the Yankees and Mets each continued to hold legitimate hopes of playing into October, the White Sox and Cubs were also thriving. Entering Tuesday's play, those two Chicago teams sat in first place simultaneously for the first time since May 23, 2004.

Suffice it to say, there was more was at stake here than simple civic pride. 

That's why when another pair of fans waltzed out of Harry Caray's, one of them -- Nick Giampietro, 50, of Howard Beach, N.Y. -- drew attention for all of his Mets attire.

"I'm the pin man," he said, rather proudly. 

I took the bait.

"The pin man?" I asked.

He opened his wallet, producing a picture of the jersey he wears to about 40 Mets home games each season. It was covered with pins depicting Mets past and present -- 220 of them in all -- in a tribute he's been wearing on his shoulders for three years now.

"He's a budding celebrity," cracked his brother, Robert Giampietro.

Perhaps in New York. But on this day, here in Cubs country, he was the enemy.

Navigating to Wrigley Field didn't seem to present too much of a challenge, especially for someone who's used to traveling on subway cars nearly every day. And to that end, it wasn't. Just five stops up the Red Line from Chicago St. station, the park proved simple to reach by train.

It was getting on that train that caused all the problems.

A quick breakfast stop and a walk to the station delayed me a matter of minutes, so soon after leaving my hotel, I ventured underground for the first time. Everything instantly looked so familiar -- the automated machines eating up cash and spitting out tickets, the commuters and tourists bustling about, the signs directing me exactly where to go (and where not to go). So I stepped up, bought my ticket, slipped it into the card reader and was met with a low buzzing sound. The card wouldn't take, so I tried it again. Bzzz. I flipped it around and tried it again. Bzzz. Backwards now, frontwards, inside out and upside down. Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

Looking around, I saw that an impatient line had formed behind me. To my sides, a group of elderly folks went whizzing past. So I did what any embarrassed tourist would do: I stepped out of line, regrouped and stepped in again. Success.

My reward for all this was a trip to Chicago's North Side, where the subway (or the 'L,' as it's more rightfully called in this spot) bursts above ground and offers the first few scenic glimpses of Wrigley. Still roughly three hours before game time, the car was already littered with Cubs hats, Cubs jerseys and -- you guessed it -- Cubs fans. And it's no wonder. Wrigley is everything that it seems to be on television, even if the ivy hasn't yet grown on the outfield walls. The stadium is as quirky as it gets, from the rooftop seats to the old-fashioned scoreboard to the massive bleacher sections spanning the outfield.

With time to kill before the Mets -- and presumably, the Mets fans -- arrived, I headed up to the press box, a sizeable room enclosed in glass. Note to sportswriters: be in shape. While the league's other stadiums almost all boast elevators and escalators for members of the media, Wrigley has steps. And ramps. And then more steps. Huffing and puffing, I finally made my way to the top, only to be greeted by some of the more stunning views of Wrigley I had ever seen. A few workers bustled by, but otherwise the park remained silent. Even so, I suspected that outside of its walls, Wrigleyville was already buzzing.

The Magnificent Mile is one of America's more aptly named neighborhoods, the starting point for so many adventures (including this one), and rightfully one of Chicago's more popular tourist attractions. Packed throughout its length by restaurants and storefronts, this piece of Michigan Ave. stretches -- believe it or not -- roughly one mile from start to finish. To the east, Lake Michigan laps up against the city, defining Chicago by its grandeur. To the west, O'Hare International Airport beckons, with jets buzzing in from time to time (though rarely on time). And to the north and to the south, there is baseball.

Those compass points mark today's destinations, with the Yankees and Mets playing in Chicago on the same day for the first time since 1980. Yet unlike then, when both teams played matinees, this one boasts the Mets and Cubs during the day, and the White Sox and Yankees later tonight. So watching both games is more than plausible -- it's my goal.

This rarely happens in New York City, let alone Chicago -- and that's precisely what makes Tuesday such a unique diversion for any New Yorker who managed to venture the roughly 800 miles west. It's just not every day that the Yankees and Mets share this town.

So taking off from the Magnificent Mile this morning, I'm set to head to Wrigley Field, where the Mets and Cubs will soon prepare to play their second game in as many days. Yet for me, this is about more than just baseball. Never having stepped foot into Chicago before this weekend, I'm ready to experience exactly what makes this city so great. It's got to be more than the deep dish pizza -- or so I'm told. Either way, I intend to find out.