The Cubs are champions
Yesterday morning on the way to work, I stopped at the office of the apartment complex where I live to pay the rent. As I made the sharp turn to the right into my parking space, a 20 ounce cup of hot coffee sitting next to me spilled all over my lap, causing only first-degree burns but necessitating half an hour of flex time so I could clean up, quickly shower again, and put on dry clothes.
Last night, as I sat at the Hessen House bar with some fellow Cub fans (Warsteiner Oktoberfest seemed an appropriate libation, considering what we all were expecting to celebrate),an off-duty waitress sitting next to me wisely decided that, while she wanted to stick around, she had had enough beer. She switched to ice water. After a while, she wandered off- and a customer sitting on the other side of her gestured extravagently, and knocked her glass of ice water into my lap.
In retrospect, it seems appropriate. As we watched the National League Central Division champion Cubs cavorting around their Cincinnati locker room- every one of them dripping with the champagne they were spraying each other with and pouring over each other's heads- I felt right at home. I was just as wet as they were.
I opened this season by saying that I had no expectations; that while I tended to be a bit pessimistic about what I expected to be a transition year, pre-season predictions put the Cubs anywhere from first to fifth- and that I wouldn't be surprised if they finished anywhere in that range. The team was an enigma. It's not an enigma anymore- or at least not as much of one. While I had to raise my eyebrows last night when manager Lou Pinella (the only guy I can think of who's managed a team from each league to a world championship- and one of those teams to two world championships) said that this year's Cubs "have as much talent... as any team I've ever managed," I can easily imagine them winning the pennant. I see no National League team still in the hunt that's significantly better than they are. The other league, of course, is another matter. But winning a World Series is as much about timing and luck- "catching lightning in a bottle," as a doctor who is a member of my Cubs email group is fond of saying- as it is about talent. Ending the world championship draught a year short of the century mark is my no means an impossible dream.
I can equally well see the Cubs getting bounced in the first round. They go cold sometimes, as witness their recent loss of an entire series to the last place Florida Marlins. But they also get hot. They battle. They come back. They never consider themselves beaten until they've registered the last out. A rotation of Carlos Zambrano, Ted Lily and Rich Hill is plenty good enough to go all the way, and as long as Carlos Marmol is the mainstay of the bullpen (and we keep the ball away from Ryan Dumpster), the relief pitching strikes me as perfectly adequate to the goal.
Unlike 1969, 1984 and 2003, I have no expectations this year. I'm simply going to sit back and enjoy the ride. I won't be crushed if they don't make it, though obviously I will go absolutely bonkers if they do.
In the meantime, I'll just try to stay as dry as possible, while hoping the Cubs spend the next several weeks soaked to the skin just as frequently as practicable.
I cynical thought, in closing: this will certainly net the Trib a better price when it sells the team in the off-season, won't it?
Last night, as I sat at the Hessen House bar with some fellow Cub fans (Warsteiner Oktoberfest seemed an appropriate libation, considering what we all were expecting to celebrate),an off-duty waitress sitting next to me wisely decided that, while she wanted to stick around, she had had enough beer. She switched to ice water. After a while, she wandered off- and a customer sitting on the other side of her gestured extravagently, and knocked her glass of ice water into my lap.
In retrospect, it seems appropriate. As we watched the National League Central Division champion Cubs cavorting around their Cincinnati locker room- every one of them dripping with the champagne they were spraying each other with and pouring over each other's heads- I felt right at home. I was just as wet as they were.
I opened this season by saying that I had no expectations; that while I tended to be a bit pessimistic about what I expected to be a transition year, pre-season predictions put the Cubs anywhere from first to fifth- and that I wouldn't be surprised if they finished anywhere in that range. The team was an enigma. It's not an enigma anymore- or at least not as much of one. While I had to raise my eyebrows last night when manager Lou Pinella (the only guy I can think of who's managed a team from each league to a world championship- and one of those teams to two world championships) said that this year's Cubs "have as much talent... as any team I've ever managed," I can easily imagine them winning the pennant. I see no National League team still in the hunt that's significantly better than they are. The other league, of course, is another matter. But winning a World Series is as much about timing and luck- "catching lightning in a bottle," as a doctor who is a member of my Cubs email group is fond of saying- as it is about talent. Ending the world championship draught a year short of the century mark is my no means an impossible dream.
I can equally well see the Cubs getting bounced in the first round. They go cold sometimes, as witness their recent loss of an entire series to the last place Florida Marlins. But they also get hot. They battle. They come back. They never consider themselves beaten until they've registered the last out. A rotation of Carlos Zambrano, Ted Lily and Rich Hill is plenty good enough to go all the way, and as long as Carlos Marmol is the mainstay of the bullpen (and we keep the ball away from Ryan Dumpster), the relief pitching strikes me as perfectly adequate to the goal.
Unlike 1969, 1984 and 2003, I have no expectations this year. I'm simply going to sit back and enjoy the ride. I won't be crushed if they don't make it, though obviously I will go absolutely bonkers if they do.
In the meantime, I'll just try to stay as dry as possible, while hoping the Cubs spend the next several weeks soaked to the skin just as frequently as practicable.
I cynical thought, in closing: this will certainly net the Trib a better price when it sells the team in the off-season, won't it?
Comments
Unfortunately, I think the Phillies made it by stealing the Eagles' mojo, and it seems the Cubs have done the same thing to the Bears.
I have to admit that my Old Adam derived a certain amount of satisfaction in seeing the same thing happen to the Mets this year, especially at the hands of the Phillies.