WOW is all I can say about last night’s err, this morning’s game. Today hurts just a bit but it was worth it. For a sport that can’t hold my interest for a full inning during the regular season I was locked on to every second of the game seven drama. Even when I changed rooms in an effort to swing the momentum I was watching on my tablet and the TV. What a difference owners who actually give a shit makes. (or is it make? crap this whole grammar thing gets confusing at times. If its wrong fix it in your mind because that is the only satisfaction you are getting today.) Some of my oldest friends in this world are die hard Cub fans and they deserve this victory for no other reason than staying on board when most would have walked away. Enduring the years when the Sox were riding high and taking solace in the fact that their ballpark was one of the best parties in the city. I live in an area where I am lucky enough to have seen every major sports team now reign as champions of their league. Bears, Bulls, Sox, Blackhawks and now the Cubs. Pretty lucky fan even though my preferred sport favorites are currently wearing away at me.
My eldest child went down to Wrigley last night just to get close to the action and by the time she got home after fighting that crowd and traffic we were all still awake. I am content to stay here and enjoy the feels minus the crowds and asspain. Just a great day all around. Last night also reminded me of a Cubs related story.
The summer between my Junior and Senior years in High School were spent working on the game of football. One of my friends who was a year older was going to play in college so after practice let out at noon I would go work out with him for a couple hours and then we would head to the beach. Every day, day after day. The only thing that would change was the booze we could score and how we were going to pay for gas.
As was our way we stumbled across a bottle of vodka so we dumped out half a jug of orange juice and mixed the two together. We put it in his friends fridge knowing we would be back to pick it up long before anyone was the wiser. We were running late and by the time we got back to his house his older, scarier brother’s car was in the drive. When we walked in to the house he charged us screaming CUBS WIN CUBS WIN CUBS WIN. I had no idea what was happening but we needed to get going because the beach closed at 7:00pm and if you didn’t get there you would have no idea where the party might be that night. (this is before the invention of the cell phone for any younger readers)
Anyhow I was left to distract, lets call him Paul, and to put him in a descriptive frame: all of his front teeth were fake because if you play catch with a bowling ball you should not try to two hand a high one coming right toward your mouth. Physics is a cruel mistress. From the kitchen I heard “Hey Paul, have you seen the orange juice?” YA I SAW IT AND I DRANK IT BUT IT TASTED LIKE SHIT SO I CALLED MA AT WORK AND TOLD HER TO NEVER BUY IT AGAIN.
So whenever I hear someone yell CUBS WIN I am reminded of a time when a baby bear drank a gallon of screwdrivers and I barely escaped with my life.