Most Cubs fans have given up hope, at least for 2009. And rightly so. We've made our peace with this season. We're in fall mode. We're ready to watch the Bears and Jay Cutler make us forget all about the misery of . . . oh. No. Still here in the misery. The Bears are still the Bears. Chicago sports are still Chicago sports. Old Yeller's still dead.
Well, guess what: the ivy's still green. I guess it serves us right for trying to rush through the grieving process. A wise man once said, "Never rush a miracle. You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles."
In the days and weeks to come, I'll be posting some things to help with the grieving/miraculous hope process. You know, to make it less rotten. For today, I offer you the words of the great Langston Hughes:
Dream Deferred
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
