Emotions running high, I sat in the corner of my couch doing one of those hands over my eyes but not so clinched that I can’t sneak a little peek at the TV things. This was it, do or die. Why do I, why do we, do this to ourselves?! Every year. The sports fans. Those die hard, countdown to spring training, know the rotation, fans. The ones who bleed the colors of their team and have their car tuner dialed into WGN. I’m one of them. No denial here. I grew up loving the Cubs, it was instilled in me. In the same way I throw my kid’s football jerseys on them every Sunday, I was dressed in red and blue.
The sounds of the ballpark, the smells, the atmosphere. Playoffs or not. There’s an excitement, a nostalgia. Surrounded by passion and friendly competition. You learn how to call a strike from the stands, you learn the definition of a “no hitter” and you learn what it means to fly a “W”.
But it’s not just us Cub’s fans sitting in the friendly confines, barring all superstition, and praying with your hands so tightly clinched they turn blue. Its every person who has a passion to see their team win. We enter the season with the highest of hopes, the biggest of dreams, though hardly higher or bigger than the players themselves. We pour our faith into the team and into the belief that “this is the year”. The season starts and balls are exploding out of the field. Things are looking good.
I could feel the new energy of this young team and without DOUBT, it exuded into their fans, even through the television. This team was not only classy, but offered humor; they knew how to have fun while getting their job done. Things were going nowhere but up, that is until last night.
The last hope, that last lifeline that would grant them a chance for “one more game” was gone. Stripped from them in the first inning by a 3 run homer. The pit of my stomach fell. I was nauseous. I instantly became hot, palms sweating and I had to fight the tears welling in my eyes from the DH. (To this day I don’t think he understands just how much I like baseball and the Cubs) Our season was on the cusp of being over. (I say “our” like I was sitting in the dugout. Ha!)
How does this happen?! How do we as sports fans become so consumed, so emotionally invested in something? I can’t afford a ticket to the World Series (or SuperBowl). I’ll never have the opportunity to hoist the Pendant (or Stanley Cup). Yet, I’m all in, like a relationship. Giving them 100% of my loyalty, rooting for them through the end. How does the hope, the desire for the “W” drive out the crazy in any ONE individual (so what if I was pacing the floor yelling at the tv?) Yes, that is exactly what this is, you can call it crazy, but me, I’m calling it passion.
So, thank you Cubs (or whatever team you find yourself rooting for) for a memorable season and one (unless you’re rooting for the Mets or the winner of the ALCS) that came to an end too soon. There is no denying that “there is always next year”.
So I’m putting away the blue and red for now (or the next 121 days when the field is raked and the pitcher stands on the mound, under that Arizona sun) and trading it in for the ice, pucks, and the black and red.
XO,
Melissa
