Cubbies

Let me tell you what it's like to be a Cub fan right now. Have you ever been driving down the street with a one pound bag of marijuana sitting on your back seat, an underage hooker in your passenger seat, a half gallon of vodka in your blood stream, and a dead body in your trunk? How many times have you found yourself in this situation when suddenly you look into your rearview mirror to see the flashing cherries of a police vehicle? You know that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you know you're about to be pulled over and taken to jail? Multiply that by the number of years (95) since the Cubs won a World Series and you'll have a good idea of what it's like to be a Cub fan watching the Cubs in the post-season.

There's an uneasy excitement in Chicago. There are more Cub jerseys, hats, and other Cub paraphernalia on the streets than has been in years. Cub fans silently exchange smiles, nods, winks, fist pumps, and sighs of both relief and tension as they pass one another in the office, on the street, at the train station, or in pretty much any bar, restaurant, deli, or supermarket. The excitement is palpable, but the ulcers are invisible.

ADVERTISMENT

In 1984, it was Steve Garvey. Steve Garvey, a man whom I swore to hate for the rest of my life, happens to be the person who first introduced me to heartbreak. In 1984 the Cubs were in the National League Championship Series. They hadn't been in a post-season game since 1945. After taking a 2-0 series lead in a five game series, the Cubs proceeded to lose the next three games in San Diego, thanks in large part to the effort put forth by Padre first baseman, Steve Garvey. Garvey hit .400 in that series, had 7 RBI, and one game winning homerun in the bottom of the ninth of game four. The Cubs lost the following day as well to lose the series. I cried.

In 1989, it was Will Clark. The Cubs never really threatened to win the series against the San Francisco Giants in 1989, but that was due in large part to the fact that Will Clark hit .650, had 8 RBI, scored 8 runs, and hit two homeruns. He single handedly dismantled the Cubs pitching staff. Therefore, he joins Steve Garvey on Mikey's list of people-who-would-not-be served-if-I-owned-my-own-bar-or-restaurant.

Here is that list as it stands to date:

• Steve Garvey
  
• Will Clark
  
• Mark David Chapman
  
• Ben Afleck

As I write this, the Cubs are tied 1-1 in their series against the Florida Marlins. I have no doubt that the Cubs will prevail in the series. However, I do not want to consider the possibility that I'll have to add another name or two to the "Do Not Serve" list at my establishment. If this were a one game series, Mike Lowell would have been added to that list in a heartbeat. His pinch hit home run in the ninth inning won game one for Florida.

When the Cubs made the dramatic entrance into the 1998 playoffs, they were so thoroughly dominated by the Atlanta Braves, Cub fans didn't have a chance to allow a moment of hope to seep into their souls. The Cubs had defeated the Giants in a thrilling one game playoff, and in two clicks of an instant they were swept by the Braves.

This is a new breed of Cub though. This Cub team has two phenoms guiding them in Kerry Wood and Mark Prior. Not Steve Trachsel and Kevin Tapani. The Cubs actually expect to win now. The Cubs won the Central Division on their own this year. They played well when it counted to make it to where they are. Missing from this year were the late season foibles that we as fans have come to expect. This year we didn't hear Ron Santo howl a heart crunching "OH NO!" as Brant Brown dropped a routine fly ball to lose a crucial game.

No sir, these Cubs can play. If Wood and Prior are right, they can not be beat. Prior, the possessor of calves the size of actual baby cows, has more maturity and poise on the mound than Rodin's The Thinker. And Kerry Wood, well what can we say about Woody? The kid is nastier than a set of backwoods, trailer park, inbred siamese twins. He's only 26 years old but he pitches with the guts and the pride of a Fonzie. If Arthur Fonzarelli were a major league pitcher, he would have been Kerry Wood.

I wish I could explain what it feels like to have been a Cub fan for so many years. I'm not sure a writer alive could actually do it justice. The feeling of watching this team right now borders on a sort of a cautious cockiness. No other Cub team since 1984 has had this legitimate a chance of winning the World Series. This city is so confident in its team's chances of winning it all this year, that should they fail, a non-economic depression may actually put the city in shambles.

As I sat at the bar of my favorite tavern, the Southport City Saloon, Tuesday night and watched one of the greatest playoff games ever (game 1), I realized just how much I want this to happen. Of course I've always known I want the Cubs to win the World Series, but I'm just starting to realize how incredibly badly I want it. I try to visualize the moment when they win it. I have several scenarios I play out in my head:

1. Kerry Wood has thrown a complete game no-hitter, striking out 21 batters. Damian Miller runs out to grab him as Kerry stands with one arm extended to the sky. The rest of the team mobs the battery mates as tears of joy flow like the Chicago River.

2. Mark Prior has come in to relieve Kerry Wood who had pitched eight and two-thirds innings of shut-out baseball. The only reason he was removed from the game was because of a freak injury he sustained while striking out Nomar Garciaparra. He put so much spin on a breaking ball, that his shoulder actually twisted out of it's socket and fell to the ground like a broken G.I. Joe doll. Prior strikes out the last batter on three pitches.

3. Mark Grudzielanek is up to bat with the bases loaded in the bottom of the 9th inning in game seven. The Cubs are down by three runs, and the bases are loaded. Grudzie hits a line drive down the first base line that rattles off the wall by the bullpen and gets by Manny Ramirez of the Red Sox. Three runs have already scored as Grudzielanek continues to gallop around the bases with the determination of an assassin. He rounds third. The throw is on its way to the plate as Mark begins his slide. A cloud of dust creates a shroud around the play. We see the umpire's head disappear into the dust cloud as though he were looking into a tent, or a refrigerator. For the fans, time could be kept by the movement of a glacier. Then, as the dust settles we see Grudzielanek with his hand on top of home plate, the catcher is sprawled on the ground next to him, and just as we see the ball trickle away from the play, a gargantuan roar of delight erupts from the crowd as the umpire unfolds the most beautiful sight that any of us have ever seen. His wingspan seems to stretch to infinite dimensions as his voice calls out, "Safe! Safe! The runner is safe!"

Writing out that last scenario took a lot out of me. I could actually feel myself tensing up as I wrote that. And as I wrote the line "Safe! Safe! The runner is safe!" I gave myself chills.

What worries me is what happens if they actually do win the World Series? How much of the lovable losers moniker have we come to accept? If we become World Champions, have we become less special? Does this mean that Wrigley won't sell out in the middle of June when we're 24 games out of first place? Does this mean that we have to expect to win every year now? I don't know if my body can take that kind of tension.

The mold of a Cub fan is not universal. Cub fans are white, black, yellow, old, young, rich, poor, working class, upper class, classless, homeless, north side, south side, or somewhere in between. As a lifelong cub fan who was at game 2 in 1984, and was at game 2 in 1989, and flew to Houston to root on the Cubs in the Astrodome for the final two games of the playoff push in 1998, who's favorite player as a kid was Bobby Murcer even though I probably don't even remember what he looks like, for a lifelong Cub fan like me, it can be hard to watch these games. I think I know what it feels like for a father to watch his son play sports as he grows up. I feel like these players are family. I'm only three years older than Kerry Wood, but I feel like he and Prior are my younger brothers. I sit and I watch them play and I feel so proud. My Cubbies are all grown up!

Seeing as how we are still a ways away from finishing this post-season, I thought that it might be necessary to provide you, my faithful, fellow Cub fans, with some helpful pointers to help cope with the stress of these up coming ballgames.

Behold: Mikey's Ultimate Guide to Not Dying While Watching The Cubs In the Post-Season

• If the Cubs bring in a reliever that has more than 10 total fingers, turn off the TV, and enjoy a healthy snack.
  
• Instead of turning off the volume on the TV to tune into your local radio broadcast, turn off the volume on the TV and listen to the sounds of people crying and screaming in terror, that will be less traumatic.
  
• Pretend that the Cub players are Smurfs, and they're just on another crazy adventure, no thanks to one of Gargomel's evil spells.
  
• When a commercial comes on poke yourself in both eyes with the fat end of a carrot. By the time the game comes back on, you won't be able to see a thing for at least another half inning.
  
• Try to figure out what Harry Caray meant when he said, "Booze, broads, and bullshit. If you got all that, what else do you need?"
  
• As a relaxation exercise, try and list all the presidents who have been in office since the last time the Cubs won a World Series.
  
• When they broadcast the singing of the Seventh Inning Stretch, stand up in your living room and sing along at the top of your lungs. My good friend from Houston, Texas, Michael Beecher, likes to warm up his voice between the sixth and seventh innings with a rendition of "You Took the Words Right Out Of My Mouth," by Meat Loaf.
  
• Watch golf instead.

I would be remiss if I wrote a column about the Cubs and did not mention my grandfather. There may be many people who loved the Cubs as much as my grandfather, but certainly no one loved them more. He was born in 1909, and died in 1989. He lived a lifetime without ever knowing what a World Championship felt like. I'm a third generation Cub fan. My children will be Cub fans too. I understand that many of you would consider this child abuse, but please do not call social services.

Before I sign off for the day, I'd just like to remind everyone that regardless of the outcome of this season, we have to remember that this is Dusty Baker's first year as the manager of this team. No one expected the Cubs to compete, let alone actually make the playoffs. This season is already a resounding success, so win or lose, we should be satisfied. But alas, we will not be. Nothing will be satisfying short of a World Championship flag waving above the Friendly Confines. And nothing would be more surreal either.

And finally, I'd just like to say that one of the highlights of watching the Cubs in the playoffs is getting to see the ivy on the outfield walls change colors with the fall. The Cubs haven't had a chance to play games this late into October before. I'm sure the golden ivy of autumn will make for a spectacular World Series venue.

Go Cubs, go.