The Chicago Cubs are popular. But I am a Cubs fan because I am unpopular.
Ten million stories will be told about this franchise in the next few days. Here’s another short one. It’s mostly about my brother. He’s a better Cubs fan than I am. When I was 7 and he was 10, we had a confrontation. I wanted to go play outside. It was early August of 1992. The Cubs had a horribly terrible team. We were double digits behind the division lead. But Danny would not play whiffle ball in the backyard until the Cubs game was over. So I sat next to him and watched us (probably) lose.
Each game matters. Even if you suck. Danny taught me that.
I grew up in a Cubs family. I loved the team but frequently thought, “why are we so bad?” As in all sports–you defend your team. But what could we defend? I grew up to be a paid “arguer”…a lawyer. Cubs fans are basically public defenders. We will represent you, regardless of merit, because of the principle.
We are going to the World Series. To even type that sentence changes what it means to be a Cubs fan. We may win or lose this series. Eh, who cares. The Cubs represent to me (maybe not you) the purest, kindest, funnest, original-ist, clever-ist, weird-ist group of random people in the greater Northern Illinois area. We are everybody who isn’t the Prom King. We are everybody else.
I love this team so much I can barely breathe.
ThirtySomething 