Our server at Fat Dan’s with my wife’s good luck Cubs beanie key chain. Moments after this pic was taken, the Cubs won and she repeatedly asked, “Is he OK?” as I wept.
So there I sat at Fan Dan’s in Broad Ripple Saturday night crying like a baby – weeping really – after the Chicago Cubs finished off the Los Angeles Dodgers in the National League Championship Series.
Time froze, so I’m unsure whether my unsightly emotional outburst lasted 30 seconds or 15 minutes. All I know is that I couldn’t stop, and the flood of memories didn’t either.
I am very well aware that baseball is a silly game and the result of a contest featuring 50 players I have never met and do not know has no tangible bearing on my life. So why the hell did the Cubs beating the Dodgers mean so much to me?
My Dad took me to my first game in 1968. Ernie Banks hit a home run that afternoon in a 9-8 loss to the Cincinnati Reds. I only know the Cubs lost because we listened to the last two innings on WGN Radio as we beat traffic by leaving after the seventh inning.
Not sure my Dad ever saw an eighth or ninth inning.
Before the game, Dad told me to hand my scorecard to the Reds player with a crowd around him. I decided to go to the Reds player without the big crowd.
That’s how I got Fred Whitfield’s autograph instead of Pete Rose’s. (more…)