Ah, the plight of a Chicago Cubs fan. Each new season holds the reassuring promise that we will, once again make an emotional investment in a team that has the ability to bring us from the hopeful adrenaline rush of saying, 'Oh my God, I think this is really going to be the year,' to the bankrupt emptiness of watching another team, once again, achieve what we so badly want. It's almost like having a psychotic girlfriend or a drug addiction. We walk away, shaking our heads, telling ourselves, 'Never again,' only to be pulled back under the spell of the lovable losers, year after grueling year. This year though, we really did think it was going to be different, didn't we? One hundred years, that must count for something. Maybe on the one hundredth year, the curse would officially be broken. How long could it really last? I think the reason why we are so sorely disappointed is not because the Cubs are such horrible players. That would be much easier to deal with. Our pain comes from being brought to the edge of our seat so many times without ever experiencing true satisfaction. It is frustration at its highest possible level. When the Cubs finally do win a World Series, I believe the entire town will spontaneously combust. This year, we were brought to post season once again, only to be shut down 0-3 against the Dodgers. Actually, in the past 25 years, the Cubs have had plenty of opportunities. Counting this year, they have been in post season 16 times. With division titles in 1984, 1989, 2003, and 2007, we've been so close, so often. It's a good thing they serve alcohol at the games. If nothing else, being a Chicago Cubs fan is dramatic and entertaining. Blind loyalty, being the trademark of a true fan, is what keeps the drama alive. Like bad parents who constantly make excuses for the behavior of their children, Cubs fans are no different. Instead of holding the players responsible for the team's repeated failures, we have a laundry list of curses that we can read off as probable cause for the incident at hand. It all began during game 4 of the 1945 World Series when Billy Sianis, a Chicago tavern owner and Cubs fan, decided to let his pet goat Murphy attend the game with him. The goat even wore a sign that read 'We Got Detroit's Goat!' Billy's pet was allowed to stay until enough complaints came in regarding the animal's odor. During the 4th inning, Phillip Wrigley himself decided to ask goat and owner to leave. Outraged, Billy Sianis supposedly cursed the team, decreeing that the Cubs would never play in another World Series. Did Sianis really even say this? The world will never know. His family won't deny it because afterward, they opened a chain of restaurants across the country, which they appropriately named The Billy Goat Tavern. In 1969, more drama ensued, as a black cat ran onto the field during a crucial game, ran around Ron Santo, then exited the field. Definitely a curse that caused the future losses that season, allowing the Miracle Mets to win the World Series. That's what we choose to believe. In 1984, when absolutely nothing out of the ordinary (in the form of curses) happened and the Cubs were 2-0 over the San Diego Padres, Leon Durham made an error that led to a run for the Padres. A few batters later, the Padres took the lead and ended up winning the game. Instead of being disappointed in Durham, our blind loyalty caused us to once again blame the curse. It must not be over yet. Living in a constant state of denial is the norm for us Cubs fans. This curse mentality repeated itself countless times until finally in 2003 Steve Bartman became the latest 'goat'. He interfered with Moises Alou's attempt to catch a foul ball during game 6 of the National League Championship Series against the Florida Marlins. After that moment, we put our blinders on and blamed the curse for everything else that transpired, including Chicago's loss the following night. You gotta love us Cubby fans. Well, at least we have five months of off-season to recuperate before the entire process starts over again. Until then we can lick our wounds and "wait until next year!"
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