I’m a Yankee fan and a Cubs fan…two ends of the spectrum when it comes to Major League Baseball. But as much <as I like the pinstripes since I moved out east over 30 years ago, it’s those weekends at Wrigley with my dad that resonate on those rare days like today when the Cubs win something of substance. I cried in ’69, and it’s taken me a long time to have even a glimmer of hope for anything more than a berth in the playoffs. But 19-7 in September. Some pitching that is really finding it’s groove. Some guys behind Sammy who can hit the ball. Hmmm…is there reason to have some hope. I’m impressed by the way they won it down the stretch. They were good…I mean really good. I don’t know if they’re good enough to get out of the first round, but there’s some hope there, a twinkling of what I used to feel riding the El out to Addison St…sitting in the bleachers even though I was too young to be a real “bum”…catching a foul ball off of Billy Williams and making my dad put it in his pocket and keep his hand on it until we got to the car and locked the doors…meeting Ernie and Billy and Glen and Ron and Leo and Randy and Don in what is still one of the best days of my life…taking a sprig of ivy home and planting it in a windowbox by my room. I know that baseball blood runs deep in many, but it’s different for Cubs fans and Red Sox fans, who have made it this year as well. Can you imagine that? A red, white, and blue World Series? Hey…a kid can dream. And so can a grown up. There is something right with the world tonight…thank you Cubbies. (Check out my slideshow.)
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