So the Cubs lost. And I actually cried. But I have to write a little bit about what sports really means to me and why it affects me the way it did/does. You don't have to love sports to love the Cubs. First off, they play in a charming ballpark. I've been to lots of ballparks across the country and many of them, even the good old ones like Milwaukee's County Stadium have been co-opted and/or rebuilt by corporate America. But the friendly confines is well, friendly. There's no such thing as a bad seat in the house. And it's in a real neighborhood, which is so nice. You can take the train there, or walk. And games there are really fun. One of the best things about Chicago is Wrigley Field and everyone knows it. And despite the fact that the Cubs have done so poorly for the past 95 years, fans have poured into the stadium summer after summer, just to relax in the sunshine, have a dog and enjoy the national pastime. Win, lose, lose, lose, it didn't matter. It was fun. I even wrote about it in the intro to the Fodors sports section which I've posted up there on top of this diatribe! But this summer was different. There was an inkling of a promise. And people got excited. And that grew into a fever and a long overdue and long subdued and repressed desire to win started to come to the surface. And you know what? We felt like we deserved it! It felt good to win. We wanted it and even better we could taste it. It was nationalism, patriotism, corporate takeover at its best. Fry those fish, cream 'em, we screamed. And now we feel bad. We feel bad because we didn't win and we feel bad because we are naked in our shame. Shame for wanting the win so very bad and feeling that we deserved it so very much.
And while we're feeling bad, shame on the Chicago Sun Times for revealing the name, address and other sundry details of "the fan" who mucked the ball in Game 6. Such sensationalism for newspaper sales. Note that I did not include a link though it would not be hard for you to find it. This poor guy's life is ruined though I can understand his impulse, he was in the stands and saw what he thought was a foul ball coming toward him. Duh, he went to catch it. Now, I wish he hadn't, man I wish he hadn't. But the Sun Times has effectively ruined his life by making sure that he may not survive the week. Blood on their hands? Poor guy.
Baseball in October in Chicago! Who would have thunk it? At least tomorrow you'll know I can talk about other things!!
