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Holy shit. Cubbies. Epic. What a game.
It’s 10:35 A.M., and I just woke up with the biggest smile on my face. I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am right now. I know I’ve only been alive for 32 years, but I feel like I’ve been waiting for this moment the whole 108.
I was born here. Chicago is in my blood.
Technically, I was born in Evanston and grew up in Lake Forest, but it’s pretty much the same thing. I’ve got Chicago cred dripping out my ass. By the time I was 16, I was going down to Wrigleyville at least once a month, and sometimes even at night!
Being a Cubs fan hasn’t always been easy. From the time I started playing sports, there wasn’t a team my dad coached where I wasn’t the star, the starting pitcher, the quarterback. I can’t think of a single season where we didn’t get a medal at the end. My dad taught me that I was special and I was a winner, so rooting for a team that didn’t always win was tough to do. But it kept me grounded.
I admit, there were some times when I was more into the Bulls or the Bears, and I even flirted with the White Sox for a bit, but that was just to piss off my dad. The Cubbies were always my first love. And you never forget your first.
Man, I remember the first Cubs game I went to with my dad. I was 12. He’d just been promoted to EVP, and his company had box seats. I don’t remember who we played, but I ate like six hot dogs. After that, I was pretty much hooked. When he and Mom gave me the house I grew up in for a wedding present, I could still see the tape marks from my Ryne Sandberg poster in my old room.
Holy shit. I’m gonna be telling the story of this Game 7 to my kids forever! From how late I had to stay up watching on my comfortable couch, to how I ran out of Goose Island in the 8th inning, to all the hilarious stuff my boys and I were group-texting all night, to how I strategically scheduled a fake doctor’s appointment months in advance on the day of the parade, to how cool my boss was about me teleworking the next day. I stayed up until 3 A.M. refreshing my Facebook feed. It was insane!
Baseball fans in Chicago haven’t had anything to celebrate for 108 years. Well, technically 11, but that one doesn’t count now. My entire cul de sac has W flags flying on our garages. It’s amazing. The city just feels completely unified right now.
Of course, there will always be haters. I read something on Facebook this morning from an annoying girl I went to high school with. She teaches in CPS and is super political. Basically, she posted an article about five people in Chicago dying from gun violence last night. I swear, I totally thought about commenting “Jesus Christ, Shelley… Can you just stop being a bitch for one second?”
People like Shelley can’t take away from what we all witnessed last night. Holy shit. What a game. What a win for everyone in this city. I’m so happy that this long nightmare is over.
But at the end of the day, I’m from Chicago, which means I’m realistic. One World Series win isn’t going to fix all the issues in this city. The shitty traffic and insane property taxes aren’t going anywhere.
I mean, shit. We still have Jay Cutler to deal with.
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