It’s been a century since the Chicago Cubs won the World Series.
In that century, we’ve had two World Wars, a Cold War and a couple of conflicts. We’ve embraced the automobile, the Internet and the iPod.
We’ve witnessed man walk on the moon and the fall of the Berlin Wall.
In that time, there have been 25 Olympiads and 18 presidents of the United States. In short, it’s been a very, very long time.
But here’s one fan who hopes that streak won’t end.
Think about it. The Cubs’ is a nice story, one of courage and perseverance. They set an example to every child out there: No matter how great the adversity, every team has a chance to win.
At least, we think they do.
The Cubs are a true all-American story. After all, who doesn’t like the Cubs (other than Cardinals fans, of course)? What baseball fan doesn’t hold a small, warm and fuzzy patch in their heart for the North Siders?
But let’s be realistic: The Cubs have a large fan base partly by virtue ““ if that’s even an appropriate word considering the Cubs’ losing centennial ““ of the notoriety gained through the team’s reputation as lovable losers. Ergo, winning of any sort would place a permanent, irrevocable stain on Chicago’s sympathetic stature.
What is to be done if the Cubs do finally capture a title? It would be like sitting at a fine restaurant, waiting desperately for your meal as your stomach growls away. In the meantime, you think about how wonderful the steak will be, so juicy and full of fabulous flavor. This is very much similar to the way that Cub fans imagine the World Series ““ a promised land they haven’t reached since before the fall of Hitler’s Germany.
The point is, the fun is in the anticipation, which is often much sweeter than the event itself. Winning the World Series and ending lifetimes (literally) of agony would certainly be cathartic, but baseball as a whole would lose so much.
Remember the Boston Red Sox, and their venom for Bill Buckner and Bucky Dent? Those legends have faded into the background as the Red Sox have gone on to win two championships in four years.
If the Cubs win, the Curse of the Billy Goat and Steve Bartman’s foul ball cease to hold the importance they used to. It could even be said that through ultimate victory, the Cubs themselves, who are steeped in the identity of their own ineptitude, lose a little of their lovable luster.
Here in America, everyone likes an underdog. Fans rally around the little guy, the No. 16 seed, the long-shot at the racetrack and the hard luck. Get too good, though, and you become vilified, mostly out of jealousy and, occasionally, boredom (I’m looking at you, San Antonio Spurs).
The Chicago Cubs are one of the iconic underdogs in sports history. Think Chicago baseball. No one thinks of the White Sox. They think of Wrigley Field, the ivy, “Take Me Out to the Ball Game,” timeless broadcaster Harry Caray and losing. Without disappointment, the Cubs become less of a cuddly story and more of a target. Rather than being cheered on by a nation of loyal and casual fans alike, they become just another champion that needs to be unseated.
So here’s hoping that the Cubs’ hearts are broken again, not out of spite, but for the good of their franchise, nay, for the good of baseball itself.
Now excuse me, I have to take a leaf out of the Cubbies’ book and duck out earlier than expected. Steve Bartman just spilled water all over my keyboard.
If you once dreamed of singing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” at Wrigley, e-mail Salter at ksalter@media.ucla.edu.