Being a Cubs fan is difficult. There is the whole “We haven’t won a World Series in 100 years” thing. The “lovable loser” thing. The “Bartman” thing. No matter how close we get, we always seem to fall short at the last minute. That is what is expected from the Cubs. If you are a Cubs fan, you are expected to expect to lose. And if you think about it, that’s a pretty tough order. Expect to lose a competitive sport? Cubs fans, despite the expectations, never stop hoping. The hope that we’ll get the next guy out. The hope that the next pitch will be a strike. The hope that the ball will carry just a little bit further and we’ll get the go ahead run. That hope is what gets us through each inning, each game and each season.
Being a Cubs fan in Southeast Missouri is almost impossible. The Walmart shelves are stocked with Cardinals hats and Cardinals onesies and Cardinals t-shirts, but there is not one Cubs hat to be found. And speaking of Cubs hats, everytime I wear my Cubs gear out, I get a comment about how bad the Cubs are and how great the Cardinals are. People in Southeast Missouri are not interested in discussing how Pujols is a funny name or how Wrigley Field is a far superior ballpark to Busch Stadium. They just like to point out how the Cubs do not win. And the Cardinals do.
And on the rare occasion that the Cubs do win, the ribbing does not stop. We are reminded of our curses and the fact that we’ve lost seven post season games in a row. Dates such as 1908 are thrown out. And the closest people who understand how we feel are seven and a half hours away in Chicago. And trust me, seven and a half hours feels like an eternity when you are coming home from a Cubs loss in the playoffs. Being a Cubs fan, even when they are winning, can feel rather lonely. One day, I saw a man driving an SUV with a Cubs bumper sticker on the back. I wanted to run his car off the road and give him a hug or buy him a beer or a bratwurst. A Cubs fan! It was like seeing an oasis after a lifetime in a red desert with an annoying bird running around.
The question remains. What drives a Cubs fan, especially one in the midst of Cardinals country, to keep believing? The same motivation that drives us each day to get out of bed and to fight global warming and the war on drugs. Sure, baseball is trivial when compared to those things, but the motivation is the same. The idea that if we keep trying, keep pushing, and never give up, we will eventually come out on top. It is hope that keeps us going. Hope that one day the clock will be reset. That it will only be a few weeks since we won the last World Series and not an entire century. Hope that one day we’ll be able to tell our kids about the day that the polar icecaps refroze and the day that Derrek Lee caught the sharply hit grounder, stepped on first, and gave us the championship.
And so tonight in my house, in the heart of SEMO, I will put on my Cubs jersey. I’ll make Chicago style hotdogs and drink an Old Style beer. I’ll pass out peanuts and crackerjacks to the kids and teach them how to say words like “Zambrano” and “Piniella” and “Wrigley.” And I won’t stop believing. I won’t give up the hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be our year.