For as long as I’ve watched Major League Baseball, the Cubs have been my team. It was fun hearing Harry Caray call a game, and butcher the pronunciations of every other player.
The 1998 home run chase between Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire remains one of my most cherished sports memories. It hooked me as a baseball fan. It helped that Pat Hughes and Ron Santo brought the games alive from the radio booth, and even though I was at home after school in Louisville, Ky., they made it seem like we were in the bleachers. We celebrated triumphs, and pounded the desk at blunders. It was thrilling to watch and hear Kerry Wood and later Mark Prior come into their own.
But besides the fateful 2003 season, underscored by the Bartman ball loss to the Marlins in the NLCS, the Cubs have been a mediocre franchise. The embarrassing flameouts in 2007 and '08, following division titles, turned out to be temporary teases in just another chapter of disappointment.
There have been momentary jolts of excitement, but by and large, it’s been summarized by bloated contracts, tantrums and managers who never seem to find the right combination. This season in particular has been one of the most demoralizing I can remember in following the team for more than 13 seasons.
So it’s come to this. I hereby relinquish my claim as a full-time Cubs fan.
The thought first crossed my mind in the spring when they called up top prospect Starlin Castro, a shortstop. I read about this guy in spring training, and wondered when it might happen. Then realized I missed his debut because I didn’t care enough about the team, even that early in the season, to notice.
(You might wonder if, living in Atlanta now, I’m caught up in the first-place Braves, and the answer is yes, but not yet to the point of being a “fan.” Of course it’s fun watching a team not many expected to be at the top win like it has. But I’m in that place where, like someone coming out of a relationship, I’m not quite ready to pledge allegiance to a new franchise.)
Follow that with Carlos Zambrano’s third or fourth major meltdown, the virtual non-existent offense from Derrick Lee and Aramis Ramirez, and finally, Sweet Lou’s no-surprise retirement.
I’ve decided I’d do what most sports fans, especially those of teams like the Cubs, hardly ever do: Give up on their team. It’s fruitless to gear up each spring only to be disappointed long before Labor Day. I don’t have the patience to wait for the new ownership to clean house, or fire Jim Hendry. The rumors of Ryne Sandberg or Joe Girardi taking over the team are mildly interesting. But only really makes me shrug my shoulders.
This is like a breakup in any relationship. Things went stale and I don’t see them being repaired, or improved, any time soon.
So long, Cubs. It was a fun ride, especially in the late ‘90s. I’ll be watching, but unfortunately, my full-fledged cheering is over.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
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Keith, you can't just forget about them. Believe me, I've tried. I have accepted that it is my destiny to support losing sports teams... but I will tell you this-- in some bizarre way, I have gotten more enjoyment out of the rare moments of success of the Cubs and the Kentucky (football) Wildcats than, say, the basketball Wildcats. Winning when you're supposed to win is punching the timeclock. Winning with a 20 or 30 or 50 or 100 year history of futility behind you is when things get interesting.
ReplyDeleteJoe
"It’s fruitless to gear up each spring only to be disappointed long before Labor Day."
ReplyDeleteBoooo! This cannot be the case, otherwise I have wasted the last 24 years of my life. You want a sob story? I'll see your Cubs and raise you the Expos. I moved to Jacksonville in the 4th (1984) grade and began following the Jacksonville Expos (AA Souther League). I would listen to the games on the radio at night in bed... Galarraga, Randy Johonson, Larry Walker, Grissom, DeShields, and many others. Followed them up to the bigs and became a die hard fan of Montreal, a team I could rarely watch. Luckily they were in the same division as the Cubs and Braves (only two divisions in those days) and could at least see those games. My best friend was a Cubs fan and we would sometimes rush home from school to catch the Cubs, who thankfully always played day games at home. This was pre-stadium lights at Wrigley. Harry Caray's constant butchering of names was like a running joke between us. He even found it fun to sometimes pronounce names backwards -- he took real joy in saying Rechamnessa (Paul Assenamcher backwards). One time they even posted it on the screen. Very odd, but now classic.
Anyways, my point is suck it up and root for your team. 24 years now I've been pulling for the Expos/Nationals and not ONE playoff appearance. Oh, we had the best record in baseball in July 1994, but then they decided to go on strike. Game over (and don't let me hear any talk about the Braves winning 14 straight division titles, because they would not have and did not win it in 1994, a fact people choose to ignore).
"Fruitless?" NO! Some day, hopefully while I still remember my name, my devotion will bear fruit. All I really ask for is a playoff birth. And if not, at least I died trying.