Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Wrigley Field, Graveyard of Hope

With all due respect to people of all religions and faiths, Cubs fans have become the Jews of the sporting world: always waiting for the Messiah to take us to the promised land but knowing the savior will not come in our lifetime.

So does remaining a Cubs fan come from masochism, insanity, or delusional dreams?

Maybe becoming a Cubs fan comes from my genes as my pops grew up in LA and became a fan because Cubs had a minor league team there back in his day.

Whatever, if I wanted to root for a winner, I'd become a Yankees fan. Nevetheless, I could no more do so than command the sun to rise in the West.

"I Yam what I yam," as the immortal philosopher Popeye says.

Yet hope springs eternal as faith lies "in believing in things yet unseen."

Ah, spring when even the Cubs have a chance at a title. But then summer comes and dreams die in dog days of summer.

Nevertheless, human beings have bought the team rather the old corporate and essentially faceless Tribune Company. Any human Cubs fan has got to feel embarassment--nay rage, disbelief, desire to find torches And pitch forks and march on Wrigley--after a loss like on 3 July when the Cubs lost after giving up nine runs on 3 hits in the seventh inning.

Nine runs on 3 hits in the seventh inning.

Oh please God, make the pain stop

But "There ain't no rest for the wicked until we close our eyes for good."

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