Hey, guys, here's a little something I just pounded out for my college newspaper. I realize that there are very divided loyalties on here, but this is from someone who really didn't have a horse in the race after the first round. Hope ya like.
You didn’t really fall for that one, did you? With the Cubs up 3 games to 1, you didn’t really think the Billy Goat had finally moved out of Wrigley onto other pastures, right? After an offensive Red Sox explosion against the vaunted Yankees in Game 6, you didn’t really think the Bambino had ended his haunting of Fenway, did you? You weren’t among those around the country who joined the media in working up into a lather over a potential Duel of the Curses in the Fall Classic, right? Sure you were. We all were.
But old habits die hard…and in one of the most scintillating pairs of conclusions to dual championship series in memory, the Cubbies and the BoSox both found new ways to break their fans’ hearts this October.
A comfortable two-game lead for the Chicago Cubs in the NLCS wasn’t new territory. They were in the same position in 1984, when the San Diego Padres launched a three-game comeback that left a trail of tears all along the streets of Wrigleyville. Blowing another two-game lead in October wasn’t good enough for the Cubs, though; no, they had to flame out in spectacular fashion. They had to give up 8 runs in the 8th inning of Game 6, with 5 outs separating them from the pennant. They had to have that guy in the left-field bleachers grab the ball from Moises Alou, instantaneously making himself a social pariah in Chicago for the rest of time. They had to give up that crucial error by Alex Gonzalez to keep the inning alive. And that was just the preamble. In Game 7, they had to hold the carrot in front of their diehards once more, with a tying home run by Kerry Wood pumping life into the Cubby faithful before a Marlins shelling of that same Kerry Wood injected rigor mortise into Wrigley until next spring. You see, these are the Cubs—and merely losing wasn’t enough. No, they had to drop the last two games at home with their two studs taking the mound. Now that was a series loss worthy of the Lovable Losers.
And what about the Red Sox? Not to be upstaged, they had their own unique dance of defeat to stage. Down 3 games to 2 heading to Yankee Stadium, they had to make everyone believe they were finished before pulling their bats out of mothballs against the Bronx Bombers. Just tying the series and then going away wouldn’t do the trick, though; these are the Red Sox, and they had to get tantalizingly close to the promised land before pulling the old “gotcha” on New England and the rest of the Yankee haters around the country. They had to go into the 8th inning of Game 7 with a 3-run lead and Pedro Martinez clicking along before letting New York tie the game. And then they had to prolong the agony all the way into the bottom of the 11th before letting Aaron Boone lower the curtain on another nobly ignoble Beantown meltdown.
Curses alive? Theater of the absurd? Predictably unpredictable creativity in failure? Call it what you want—just make sure you don’t get fooled by these two again. They’re like that girl in high school who would let you go just far enough before saying that her curfew was at 11—only there are two of them. In the end, Chi-Town and “Bwaahstan” caused too many of us to drool in anticipation of something that was too good to be true. For one more winter, “Wait ‘til next year” is the mantra of the Windy City and the Big Apple’s little sister. The shadows of Ernie Banks, Ron Santo, Ryne Sandberg, Ted Williams, Carlton Fisk, Bill Buckner, and Bucky “F***ing” Dent still stretch long across Interstate 90. And, in the aftermath, the rest of us are left to watch a series between a team who would be entering fifth grade this year (in people years)…and the Damn Yankees. Maybe that’s the most disappointing outcome of all.
You didn’t really fall for that one, did you? With the Cubs up 3 games to 1, you didn’t really think the Billy Goat had finally moved out of Wrigley onto other pastures, right? After an offensive Red Sox explosion against the vaunted Yankees in Game 6, you didn’t really think the Bambino had ended his haunting of Fenway, did you? You weren’t among those around the country who joined the media in working up into a lather over a potential Duel of the Curses in the Fall Classic, right? Sure you were. We all were.
But old habits die hard…and in one of the most scintillating pairs of conclusions to dual championship series in memory, the Cubbies and the BoSox both found new ways to break their fans’ hearts this October.
A comfortable two-game lead for the Chicago Cubs in the NLCS wasn’t new territory. They were in the same position in 1984, when the San Diego Padres launched a three-game comeback that left a trail of tears all along the streets of Wrigleyville. Blowing another two-game lead in October wasn’t good enough for the Cubs, though; no, they had to flame out in spectacular fashion. They had to give up 8 runs in the 8th inning of Game 6, with 5 outs separating them from the pennant. They had to have that guy in the left-field bleachers grab the ball from Moises Alou, instantaneously making himself a social pariah in Chicago for the rest of time. They had to give up that crucial error by Alex Gonzalez to keep the inning alive. And that was just the preamble. In Game 7, they had to hold the carrot in front of their diehards once more, with a tying home run by Kerry Wood pumping life into the Cubby faithful before a Marlins shelling of that same Kerry Wood injected rigor mortise into Wrigley until next spring. You see, these are the Cubs—and merely losing wasn’t enough. No, they had to drop the last two games at home with their two studs taking the mound. Now that was a series loss worthy of the Lovable Losers.
And what about the Red Sox? Not to be upstaged, they had their own unique dance of defeat to stage. Down 3 games to 2 heading to Yankee Stadium, they had to make everyone believe they were finished before pulling their bats out of mothballs against the Bronx Bombers. Just tying the series and then going away wouldn’t do the trick, though; these are the Red Sox, and they had to get tantalizingly close to the promised land before pulling the old “gotcha” on New England and the rest of the Yankee haters around the country. They had to go into the 8th inning of Game 7 with a 3-run lead and Pedro Martinez clicking along before letting New York tie the game. And then they had to prolong the agony all the way into the bottom of the 11th before letting Aaron Boone lower the curtain on another nobly ignoble Beantown meltdown.
Curses alive? Theater of the absurd? Predictably unpredictable creativity in failure? Call it what you want—just make sure you don’t get fooled by these two again. They’re like that girl in high school who would let you go just far enough before saying that her curfew was at 11—only there are two of them. In the end, Chi-Town and “Bwaahstan” caused too many of us to drool in anticipation of something that was too good to be true. For one more winter, “Wait ‘til next year” is the mantra of the Windy City and the Big Apple’s little sister. The shadows of Ernie Banks, Ron Santo, Ryne Sandberg, Ted Williams, Carlton Fisk, Bill Buckner, and Bucky “F***ing” Dent still stretch long across Interstate 90. And, in the aftermath, the rest of us are left to watch a series between a team who would be entering fifth grade this year (in people years)…and the Damn Yankees. Maybe that’s the most disappointing outcome of all.
