Et tu, Mr. Cub?

I'm a fairly pragmatic Cubs fan: I will pay whatever they want for a ticket. I will support them playing 81 night games a year at Wrigley. I will cheer on Cubs players whose uniforms are covered in corporate decals. All if it means they'll have more money to help them win a World Series. Do whatever you have to do. I don't care.

Or, rather, I didn't care. But last night, even I reached my limit.

I was home, covered in baby formula, a little spit-up, and various and sundry infant bodily fluids as I cared for my newborn daughter. I was watching the Cubs stumble their way to a win, when it came time for the Seventh Inning Stretch. Up to the mike stepped Mr. Cub, the gregarious, always-affable Ernie Banks. He wore a royal blue baseball hat, but it wasn't a Cubs hat. Nor was it the #14 hat that they were handing out at the gates in his honor.

No, this hat bore the insignia of an athletic-clothing company that also bought space on the outfield-wall doors at Wrigley. (UPDATE: Trib has video of it here).
Okay, seriously: That's ridiculous. Was this the work of the always-busy Cubs marketing department? Was this Mr. Cub, making a little jingle on the side? Was this just some corporate flunky handing Banks a hat right before the cameras went on, and the addled ex-Cub thought it was a Cubs hat (and the pencil-pusher ended up with a nice promotion this morning)? Whichever, it was really embarrassing.

I don't have any illusions about Wrigley Field being a "shrine," or the Cubs being benevolent agents of all that's good and well-meaning in the world. I think it's great ballpark, and I root for the team. But lord knows, the Cubs are a bottom-line-hungry business, and they'd paint ads on each infield blade of grass if they could. But jeebus, a corporate hat during the Seventh-Inning Stretch? On Mr. Cub? There's got to be a line somewhere. And I hate to say it, but last night, Mr. Cub crossed it.