I'm a cubs Fan. I'm not one of those usurper who borrow the sentiment from cable TV to feel more middle American. I'm a true blue cubs fan from childhood. I grew up in Chicago and went to Cubs Games on the "El" with friends almost every week in the summer. We would pack up some ham sandwiches and frozen pop in our backpacks and hit the train for the afternoon games. In those days (the late 70's and early 80's) there were no night games. Wrigley Field was a summer dream, idyllic and pure like a Norman Rockwell drawing or a New England Lighthouse. Our cubbies never won much - and we returned the favor by not caring much about that one little thing.
Now don't get me wrong - we rooted for our cubs. We wanted them to win. The most we had to root for in those days was the little remembered 20-30 homer a year outfielder - Dave Kingman (Kong to his friends, he hit 48 in 1980 I believe). Big Dave could hit them out with a bang. Unfortunately, he could also strike out with a whimper - and it was this second talent that I remember with some chagrin. We also loved seeing Ivan DeJesus play shortstop. He was an Ozzie Smithesque player who would field his position with grace and astounding glove work. I remember him often ranging to his right to snag a gapper then leaping into the air to throw accross his body - just getting the runner out at first.
Why am I waxing nostalgic about my cubbies on my Coldfusion Blog? Because today, in the city of Chicago, there is a celebration. Those south siders and their "good guys wear black" routine with their chip-on-the-shoulder fans have actually gone and won a world series. We the north side fans congratulate them begrudgingly and acknowledge that for the greater glory of the city of Chicago... we suppose it's a good thing. So I offer the following from the heart of my bottom (pardon the lesdyxia).
Now I know they didn't have to overcome a farm animal curse to do it. They may have had to bend a few rules along the way (I won't mention that terrible black socks ordeal). It's true they had to bribe an umpire to make a horrendous call on a drop third strike just to get here. I'm sure that the fans were loyal and proud - and that they stopped fighting in the stands long enough to celebrate each and every victory.
So I congratulate those south siders on their victory and I say it from my cubbie blue heart - way to go Sox! I would only add that next year in the cross town series we are going to be on you like a cop on a jelly doughnut!