Another year has come and gone for the boys in Cubbie blue. It has proved hard to admit. Now that I'm almost a full week removed from their third loss to the Dodgers I've accepted the fact that it is over, really and truly over.
This day and age doesn't really seem as suited for baseball as it is other sports. Thus there are countless people 35 and under who just don't "get" baseball. Most of my friends are more in tune with the NBA and the NFL than they are the dynamics of the MLB. There are too many games, not enough action, any number of excuses are spit out as reasons behind their dislike of the game.
Most of these reasons I can live with. Everyone has different tastes. I do, however, find it ironic when friends who "love" soccer list game pace or "lack of action" as a reason for their inability to derive pleasure from watching baseball. It escapes me how one can truly appreciate the tactical vagaries of soccer but not baseball. Obviously in many circles it's "hip" for one to "love" soccer but I think it's as much about personality as it is the changing face of the world.
"It's no wonder some people find the game dull, especially in an age of Sports Center and instant gratification. A lot of baseball's appeal is in the Scheherazadian nature of the game--the narrative develops slowly. Clock drive football compresses and distills, while baseball invites discursive rumination. It's an archaic style that attracts a different fan." -Phillip Martin, 9-21-08 Arkansas Democrat-Gazette
Since that compression is missing from baseball there is more buildup. Once that aspiration is deflated at season's end, it stings. As a Cubs fan you become somewhat immune to the many pitfalls and let downs within a season. You're calloused and accustomed to that sting of defeat. It's when you ease your inner guard and allow the light of hope to burn within you that you leave yourself vulnerable as a Cubs fan. My own light clicked on early this year and continued to flicker the entire season. Even after the Cubs dropped the first two in Chicago, deep inside me a miraculous curse breaking ember was smoldering.
It wasn't to be. Once again, in a miraculous fashion, the season ended for the Cubs. It's easy to lament one's circumstances but excoriating one's fate is of no use. Instead we dry our eyes and cast our gaze ahead to next year--to find new hope in a new spring. We, as Cub fans, live in the quiet hopes of tomorrow and the joyous possibilities it holds.
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