Steve Bartman, Still a Cubs Fan, Doesn’t Want to Go to the World Series

The last time the Chicago Cubs hosted a World Series game was October 10th, 1945, so long ago that tomorrow night when they host the Cleveland Indians, it will be the first televised World Series game ever played at Wrigley Field.

Think about it – for multiple generations of Cubs fans, this is literally a lifelong dream, one step closer to coming true.

After last night’s 5-1 victory over the Indians, the Cubs tied the series a 1-1, setting up an intense and exciting title fight that’s already brimming with folklore. Curses. Myths. Goats. And one man.

Steve Bartman. Remember him? The Cubs hat and headphones? Green turtleneck, nebbish glasses. Come on. The guy with the outstretched hands and flailing arms and the bad luck of happenstance.

Still nothing? Well check out this video of Bartman, the Cubs fan who interferes with the foul ball, potentially costing his team an out in the 8th inning of Game 7 of the 2003 NLCS. Though up 3-0 with just 5 outs to go, the Cubs went on to lose the game, the series, and to again miss the World Series that Cub Nation so desperately wanted.

With just the stretch of his arms, Bartman turned into both Most Wanted and Most Hated in Chicago. He also became the subject of late night monologue punchlines, Halloween costumes, and an ESPN 30 for 30 documentary.

But after Cubs outfielder Moisés Alou huffed and puffed and blew Bartman’s existence down, and years of public scrutiny, Steve Bartman has kept very deliberately out of the public eye, where he intends to stay. According to Bartman’s public agent, he will be cheering for the Cubs, but from home.

As a fun activity, try to imagine if Bartman had done this in the age of the Skip Bayless #hottake without your retinas stinging or the pictures on your walls beginning to shake.

So why raise Bartman’s name from his deliberate obscurity? Because this week, fans, pundits, and players suggested that Bartman should appear at Wrigley this weekend in an ambassador role, like a perverse renewal of vows. It’s time, some think.

From the many other limbs that history and a slight breeze spared that night, to the walk and error that immediately followed Bartman’s reach, it is widely understood that Bartman has been absolved. Years later, even Alou admits he had no chance of catching the ball.

But despite his widely accepted innocence, Bartman’s presence would do nothing good for the Cubs, and even less good for him. Like Alou, no respectable human is still mad at Bartman or believes he is the reason the Cubs lost in 2003.

Bartman is the victim of fanatical emotions in a red hot moment. And you know what will be at Wrigley Field in bulk on Friday night? Those same fanatical, overreaction-prone, curse-fearing “supporters” whose sympathetic jollity is one bad hop away from showing its brutish underbelly.

A symbolic gesture like a Bartman first pitch, or even as much as a Bartman sighting in the bleachers is all many would need to pin blame for potential Cubs’ misfortune. We are not an America that learns lessons easily the first time.

For Cubs fans, a hypothetical Bartman appearance might serve the purpose of clearing their conscience so that they can use him as a scapegoat, again, if they need one, or to pat themselves on the back for being such benevolent forgivers.

For the rest of us non-Cubs fans, the Bartman exhibition would be a glorified freak show. And worse, would draw in the sadists rooting for a worst case scenario, hoping that lightning strikes Bartman again. Look for Bartman, a modern-day Where’s Waldo in his headphones and wire-rimmed glasses, sitting at the intersection of absurdity and schadenfreude.

This is disaster waiting to happen. Steve Bartman is not a whipping boy; in fact he is the personification of why we can’t have nice things.

As a case study, look at how Red Sox Nation restarted their relationship with Bill Buckner after the 2007 World Series. It took poor Bill Buckner TWO Red Sox championships before he was willing to walk back onto the Fenway Park infield after his 1986 World Series error, almost two decades later. After being cast out as a pariah, he was as upset with Boston as Boston was with him. Buckner waited patiently, through the gradual thaw of icy feelings, before showing up again.

But Bartman is a different story. He’s closed himself off from Chicago, not publicly airing his feelings or fandom. He’s essentially become a shut-in, and for what? We have taken enough from Steve Bartman. Let’s hold off on our demands of him. If you care about the man, root for the Cubs. Let him clear his anguish, before he pardons yours.