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I always enjoy Mary Schmich's poems: The air was tense with hope that night, a wet November eve In Wrigleyville and far beyond, the fans tried to believe The Cubs were gonna win it, they were gonna win it all! This would be the year they didn't somehow drop the ball. Baseball in November? What a miracle! What magic! This would be the year that hope did not turn dark and tragic Here it was Game 7 — it was gonna be a blast! This would be the year when "Almost" turned into "At last." From Wrigleyville to Cleveland, by the shores of two great lakes, Cubbie fans assembled, praying, "Lord, give us some breaks." The drought would soon be over, yay, at last we'd tell the story Of how the great Chicago Cubs had claimed World Series glory. The fans thought back to April, to the promises of spring When even doubtful types could think they'd win the whole damn thing These youthful guys of summer were so dashing and so strong Fin'lly they would win the prize we'd waited for so long. Through May into October, how those players played their best They pitched and hit and caught and ran with derring-do and zest Bryant, Lester, Rizzo, Jason Heyward, Arrieta These young Cubs, with Papa Joe, kept doing simple bettah. Maddon coached them wisely and he buoyed all their boats They carried no old grudges and no silly fear of goats They wore their burden lightly, they were free of hist'ry's weight They did not dwell on curses or the number one-o-eight. Game by game, they dazzled, staying solid in first place We cheered at Jake's no-hitter and when Javy stole a base! They made it through the wild card, past the Giants, then LA Happy, hopeful, certain that they'd take it all the way. This would be the year, we knew, they'd lose the "loser" label Lovable or not, the fans were sick of that sad fable. This would be the year, we knew, that not a thing would suck (This would be the year Bill Murray sang like Daffy Duck.) The hopeful paid a fortune for the rare World Series tickets (Helping out the fortunes of the owner Mr. Ricketts.) The aldermen were grumpy when the ethicist said, "Nix! "You cannot clout your way into some freebie baseball tix. At last the Series opened, but that Cleveland team was tough Four games in, they'd taken three, the Cub fans cried, "Enough!" A whiff of fear, a twitch of doubt infected poor Cubs Nation One more chance was all they had to beat elimination. And then … They won Game 5 and then Game 6 and holy, holy cow This was gonna be the year that next year would be now! And on that fateful Wednesday night, they stepped up to the plate The seventh game was fin'lly here, the end of the long wait. All those seasons all those fans were left so very low While mustering the strength to sing Steve Goodman's "Go Cubs Go." A cen'try since the Cubs had won! Oh what a tragic tune! Two world wars had come and gone, man landed on the moon! Now Fowler hit a homer and the fans let out a roar Grandpa Rossy did the same, another Cubbie score! A homer at age thirty-nine and ready to retire! Young and old, this Cubbie team continued to inspire. But luck can change as quickly as the wind can change its course The Cleveland team stepped up to bat, unleashing all its force The game was almost over when it suddenly was tied! Six to six, oh holy cow, some fans broke down and cried. "Heartbreak in Chicago," said some pundit on TV. "Devastating, very sad, oh can this really be?" We prayed to Harry Caray and we prayed to Ernie Banks, Please, oh please, dear Ernie, you must help us, amen, thanks. Bottom of the ninth, a tie, and then there came the rain! Never had the fans endured such shocking, brutal pain A tarp unfurled out on the field beneath the heaven's tears At Sluggers and at Bernie's, fans were weeping in their beers. They wanted this for grandma, for their father or late wife For all the fans who'd never seen a Series in their life. For all the fans who'd been there when the seasons had been lean Who'd passed away before they saw the work of young Epstein. Certain fans were angry and the angriest laid blame But others knew that losing, well, it's all part of the game. Baseball is like living — you can never quite predict The winners and the losers and when winners will get licked. And then … The storm it passed, the game resumed, another inning — ten! Zobrist swung, Montero next — two runners batted in! The game still wasn't over; Cleveland got another run But then the final out and what? Chicago's Cubs had won? Eleven forty seven was the time up on the clock A joyful cry arose among Chicago's faithful flock At last the curse was banished, with a new age on the rise It seemed so right and natural and it still was a surprise. Baseball's better for it and Chicago's better too What fun it's been to root and hope and wear Cub Nation blue And now that we have made it to this harrowing November Let's keep the lessons Maddon taught and try hard to remember: When you fear you're failing, may as well embrace the terror Do not be defeated by bad luck or by an error Work to make luck happen, yes, but in the proper measure Never let the pressure kill the instinct of the pleasure. Thank you, Chicago Cubs. mschmich@chicagotribune.com Twitter @MarySchmichThis message has been edited. Last edited by: Kalleh, | ||
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I heard the Hamilton actors/actresses broke into "Go Cubs Go!" at their last production. It is pretty exciting around Chicago right now - and just what we needed, given this lengthy presidential race. I think we'll all be happy when Tuesday is over! | |||
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Tuesday is over. Are you happy? | |||
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Jung's shadow; Freud's Id. Stevenson's Mr Hyde. | |||
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Most definitely not. The worst of it is Facebook entries by Donald supporters. It is so interesting that Donald again and again said he'd never accept the election results unless he won. So he won and has accepted them. While Hillary gave a gracious concession speech, Donald boasted that he'd not accept negative results. Now that there are anti-Trump protesters, people on FB are complaining and calling the protesters "numskulls" (sic). Do they honestly think Donald's supporters would have sat calmly by? Of course not! Had I been in Chicago, I just might have been one of those numbskulls.  It hasn't been my best week. I'd give up the World Series win to a Hillary win in a heartbeat. | |||
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