When The Universe Was Reset—the Cubs Won the World Series

 

Note—Just nine years ago yesterday as the U.S. was about to slide into disaster, the thrilling victory of the Chicago Cubs in the World Series ending a 108 year drought lifted my heart and generations of the most faithful fans in baseball.  This year, stacked by veteran and newbies with home run punch, speed on the base paths, talented starters, a stellar bull pen, and flat out the best defense in baseball made it past NL Wild Card to a hotly contested Division championship against their archrivals from Milwaukee.  It was a tantalizing reminder…

The morning after everything changed.  Barrels of ink have already been spilled.  More are tipping as I type.  TV sports yappers waxed poetic.  The streets filled with fans, yahoos, and wannabes alike.  Social media went into prolonged orgasm.  Here and there in lonely nursing home rooms feeble voices cheered, fragile hands clapped, and tears brimmed the eyes.  The Chicago Cubs won the World Series.

  

The Boys celebrating on the field after the final 10th inning out.

My beloved Cubs, I always say, as it they belonged to me.  This boy from Cheyenne who grew up a Cardinals fan has been hooked on the Boys in blue pinstripes since I wandered into Kap’s, a fanatic Cubs bar on Armitage near the old Town Burlesque in 1969.  My first trips to Wrigley Field were that year, the first adrenaline rush of a pennant race, the first embrace of heroes I would come to know as well as family, the first bitter heartbreak of disappointment.

I returned to the well year after year in good times and in miserable seasons—the same ones our beloved Chicago Shorty—Steve Goodman—knew so well and immortalized in both wistful and hopefully defiant song.  I wore out transistor radios listening furtively to Cubs games at various jobs.  Jack Brickhouse, Lou Boudreau, Milo Hamilton, and Harry Caray.

 

Steve Goodman--Chicago Shorty--wrote the anthem Go Cubs Go and The Dying Cub Fan's Last Request passed himself right before the Cubs clenched a Division Championship won a Division championship in 1989.
 

Yet my claims were shallow.  A veritable Johnny-come-lately.  The city, suburbs, and beyond are filled with generations of fans—a faith and hope passed on by miraculous baptism linking great grandfathers to babies in Cubs onesies.  The stories are legions.  This week the team supplied chalk for those deeply connected fans to inscribe on the bricks of Wrigley Field the names of loved ones who waited for this moment.  It would be a cliché if it weren’t so damn real.

As much as I loved them, I surprised myself on that last night during the emotional rollercoaster of what may go down in history as the greatest game 7 ever played.  In the span of three and a half hours I soared to elation, was kicked in the gut by despair, and miraculously restored to faith.  I was not prepared for the surge of emotions at that final tenth inning out.  The celebrations in the field and in the streets were matched in a shabby Crystal Lake living room by the Old Man in a recliner and ratty old cap, his fair weather fan wife, and a perplexed dog.

  

Cubs fans watching the final game on the Wrigley Field Jumbotron expressed the joy of generations. 

I laughed.  I wept.  I could hardly sleep at all. 

The next morning a fog lay on the ground as I took the bus to work.  By the time we got to Woodstock it had lifted and the Sun was rising in a perfect blue sky just peeking through the crowns of golden maple trees.  The air electric, crisp, expectant.  Perfect.  Absolutely perfect.

 

 

Once the Champion Chicago White Stockings Couldn’t Draw Flies in Troy

 

Almost all of this 1880 Championship team was back for another romp to the crown a year later.  Cap Anson front and center. 

My beloved Chicago Cubs have had an exciting season this year with a stellar roster that seemed invincible until the All Star break.  Since then key injuries have taken their toll as did an inexplicable extended team batting slip.  Pitching, spectacular defense, and base path daring-do kept the team in the playoff race.  They secured a National League Wildcard slot but have struggled to nail down the top spot which would assure all first round games would be played at home.  But no matter what the most loyal fans in baseball not only packed Wrigley Field but turned out in big numbers on the road sometimes even out numbering the home teams wherever they went. 

That perspective makes todays baseball yarn even more of a head scratcher.

On September 27, 1881 the Chicago White Stockings (now known as the Cubs) played a game before the smallest “crowd” in their long history—12.  Probably also the smallest crowd for any Major League regular season game.  Which was strange.  Under legendary player/coach Cap Anson the Chicago Nine had been the top professional team for some time and dominated the early seasons of the National League.  On that Tuesday afternoon in Troy, New York, the team was coasting to another championship with an eight game lead.

 

Chicago player/manager Cap Anson was not only the biggest star in early Major League Baseball but a major player in shaping the National Pass Time. 

Perhaps it was because the Troy Trojans—you didn’t expect any other nickname did you—were a lousy team.  They struggled in 5th place and finished the season 39-45, 17 games behind Chicago.  But the White Stockings were so laden with talent that they were a draw everywhere, even when the host teams were certified mopes. The Trojans would be disbanded after the next losing season.  More than half of their players jumped to a brand new franchise in New York City, the Gothams—later known as the Giants.

 

The hapless Troy Trojans, soon to go out of business.

Perhaps the low attendance was due to the weather.  My attempts to ascertain conditions that day in Troy have been unsuccessful.  But it can get a mite nippy and/or rainy and raw in Upstate New York.  My guess is that is what kept the crowd below the combined number of players on the field.

The Cubs would go on to have their own attendance problems, even in beautiful Wriggly Field when they seemed mired in particular futility in the early 1950’s.  But they have gone on to become one of the most successful teams in baseball in terms of selling tickets.  Home games have routinely sell out.  Compared to the nearly empty stadiums you see on television for some teams—looking at you White Sox—they are the envy of baseball.

Oh, by the way, back to that game in Troy—the White Stockings won 10-8.

 

That Day When the Champion Chicago White Stockings Didn’t Draw Flies in Troy

Almost all of this 1880 Championship team was back for another romp to the crown a year later.  Cap Anson front and center. 

My beloved Chicago Cubs have been terrible this year after a management fire sale of stars and an announced rebuilding.  They remain 21½ behind their old rivals, the St. Louis Cardinals and in third place in the National League Central despite a recent meaningless winning streak.  But the team’s dedicated fan base continues to plunk down money and show up at Wrigley Field.  Sure, they didn’t sell out every game this year, but the stands are normally fuller than many teams in tight playoff races.

The team also continues to be the biggest visiting team draw in baseball as the vast Chicago diaspora turns out and well-heeled fans travel to follow their team.  Even in St. Louis, the likely Division Champs blue Cubs caps and gear are seen liberally sprinkling the seas of red.

That perspective makes todays baseball yarn even more of a head scratcher.

Chicago player/manager Cap Anson was not only the biggest star in early Major League Baseball but a major player in shaping the National Pass Time.

On September 27, 1881 the Chicago White Stockings (now known as the Cubs) played a game before the smallest “crowd” in their long history—12.  Probably also the smallest crowd for any Major League regular season game.  Which was strange.  Under legendary player/coach Cap Anson the Chicago Nine had been the top professional team for some time and dominated the early seasons of the National League.  On that Tuesday afternoon in Troy, New York, the team was coasting to another championship with an eight game lead.

Perhaps it was because the Troy Trojans—you didn’t expect any other nickname did you—were a lousy team.  They struggled in 5th place and finished the season 39-45, 17 games behind Chicago.  But the White Stockings were so laden with talent that they were a draw everywhere, even when the host teams were certified mopes. The Trojans would be disbanded after the next losing season.  More than half of their players jumped to a brand new franchise in New York City, the Gothams—later known as the Giants.

The hapless Troy Trojans, soon to go out of business.

Perhaps the low attendance was due to the weather.  My attempts to ascertain conditions that day in Troy have been unsuccessful.  But it can get a mite nippy and/or rainy and raw in Upstate New York.  My guess is that is what kept the crowd below the combined number of players on the field.

The Cubs would go on to have their own attendance problems, even in beautiful Wriggly Field when they seemed mired in particular futility in the early 1950’s.  But they have gone on to become one of the most successful teams in baseball in terms of selling tickets.  Until the recent run of humiliating seasons, home games have routinely been sold out.  And even this year, hand wringing about dipping attendance usually meant that scattered seats here and there and in the upper deck corners were unfilled.  Compared to the nearly empty stadiums you see on television for some teams, they are the envy of baseball.

Oh, by the way, back to that game in Troy—the White Stockings won 10-8.