How the Cubs Became My Fountain of Youth

Forget Next Year. I'm holding on to 30 years ago.  

The cliché tells us to dance like no one's watching. As someone who dances only when no one is watching, I can only guess that the intended conclusion of this mantra is that we should disregard everyone else's judgments and do what makes us happy. Nobody understands that concept better than little kids. Some might say our ability to retain that shameless, childlike appreciation for the moment is what keeps us young at heart.

As Cubs fans, that's also what keeps us sane.

I can't speak for all of us, but I started cheering for the Cubs when I was too young to know better and too wrapped up in the joy of youth to care if it was a wise decision. I loved the Cubs, and I cheered like no one was watching. It wasn't the only foolish road I ever ventured down, but it's the one I've been on the longest.

When I think about my childish mistakes, I'm happy to leave almost all of them in the past. The crush on Morgan Dingwall. My inability to pronounce the letter R sound. The skater haircut. The hunter green and fuchsia plaid overalls or the pastel Easter-egg Skidz. Telling the photographer on Picture Day sophomore year that I didn't need to consult a mirror before he took the shot. I have no problem leaving all these foibles in the past never to be revisited again. Repeating them wouldn't make me feel young, it would make me feel stupid.

I regret the hair, not the hat.

For some reason, cheering for the Cubs is different. Although I'm reminded on a semi-daily basis that being a Cubs fan betrays any sense of intelligence I may have been able to establish over the course of my life, I can't help but remember how happy I was the first time I saw with my own naive eyes the lush green blanket of grass that covered Wrigley Field. I can still tap into the wonder that washed over me as I was baptized into the aroma of beer and cigarettes and hot dogs when I first stepped through the turnstiles at the Friendly Confines. I can still taste the Pepsi that was so sweet, sharp, and chock full of ice that it burned my upper lip as I happily drank it in. I still feel the same pride I felt the first time someone explained to me the meaning of die-hard and I decided that was exactly the kind of fan I wanted to be.

There are plenty of times when allowing these feelings of unbridled juvenile rapture (brought on by a generally bad baseball team) to resurface in my grownup consciousness makes me feel like an unequivocal fool. If someone were to know how swept away with glee I become when the Cubs win a game, they'd be required by the unwritten rules of society to call me a moron to my face and in front of my children.

I don't care. I'm putting it out there: I'm an idiot Cubs fan.

But I don't cheer for this team because I believe all the thoughts I entertained as a kid. I don't think the Cubs are good and everyone else is evil . . . not really. I don't think they're the best team no matter what and that other teams happen to win every year only because they cheat. So I don't have a ton of patience with adults who praise or berate this team with all the logic of a six year old.

I also have no love for the people in the organization who would exploit my desire to retain the carefree passions of my youth. When I was a kid I may have had no respect whatsoever for the value of a dollar, but those days are gone. There's only so much I'm willing to spend to be a fool for a terrible team. I'll watch and cheer and blog like no one's reading (which isn't all too difficult to imagine), but I do expect something before I flatter this team by imitating their propensity for taking on debt in the name of losing.

On the other side of the spectrum of childlike wonder, though, are the people who continue to love this team simply to enjoy the action no matter how dismal, the people who cheer like no one's watching and then continue with their lives unperturbed by the outcome. I applaud you. I hope to join you.

History and my life insurance actuary tell me there's a not-too-small chance I'll die without seeing the Cubs win the World Series. I'd rather not entertain the thought. Instead I'll continue to let my inner nine year old call the shots during Cubs games without regard for how stupid I may look or sound. It's how I stay young. It's how I stay sane. It's why I remain a Cubs fan. It's why, inside at least, I will do this dance when the Cubs win while outwardly I laugh with all the mocking force I can muster. (h/t to Cubs Fan Report for the link to this video in today's report)

Caption Contest Winner, Fan Poll, Miscellany, and Procrastination

You'll have to wait to see part 2. I need a break.

Unlike the Cubs, we have a winner! Our dart board panel of lobotomized reprobates judges has reached a decision in the Farewell to Theriot Photo Caption Contest, and it's not who you think . . . unless you think it's Sue, but I won't spoil it. You've really got to view her major award in all its unparalleled glory.

Also, pt. 2 of the half-decent expectations post is on hold until I return from my impromptu session of sitting around and doing nothing. But don't let that stop you from voting in the fan poll with your expectations of where the Cubs will wind up in the NL Central Standings. At the time of this post, Negative Infinityth is threatening to run away with the competition, and the Cubs are threatening to make good on that prediction.

Thanks for playing, thanks for voting, and thanks to Cubs Fan Report, the best Cubs daily email update this side of the Mendoza Line for the kind words and links in yesterday's report and for, subjecting people to this site notwithstanding, doing an amazing job of aggregating a ton of great Cubs info into one low-price Walmartesque (only without the creepiness and global oppression) location.

Cubs Fan Report: The Rant

The great minds and relentless forces behind the daily email Cubs Fan Report have conspired to create a dead-on artistic portrayal of the typical angry Cubs fan. I'll let the cinematic awesomeness speak for itself, but I will say they have my reading-level pegged with laser-guided precision. And seriously, especially if you're not a ravenous blog aggregating fiend, I highly recommend you subscribe to their email feed. They guide you to a ton of Cubscentric news and opinions in the mainstream media and throughout the Cubbie Blog Mafia.