Baffoe: Forget 100+ Years With The New Cubs
By Tim Baffoe-
(CBS) There is no new without a demarcation of old. Death is necessary so that life might be appreciated.
The "old" Cubs went 100-plus years without winning a World Series, their last being in 1908. The "new" Cubs have never won anything.
Weeks have given all time to mourn and digest the death of Chicago icon Ernie Banks. But for the unfortunate situation with his will, positive memories of eternal optimism personified endure.
With all due respect to a most admirable man and in viewing this from outside a human perspective, Banks' death isn't in and of itself a complete negative for Chicago Cubs fans and culture. Though the man wanted the team to win a title as much as anyone, he wasn't only the embodiment of super positive vibes that beleaguered fans turned to so as not to resign their membership but also the rock of "Wait 'til next year" delusion that too many acritical fans leaned on.
Optimism is a fine thing in healthy doses. Banks -- through no fault of his own and his "Let's play two" catchphrase -- became the Cubs' version of "Everything is Awesome."
The new Cubs have painstakingly tried to shed the insulting Lovable Loser reputation. All things "old" Cubs have been analyzed, and some jettisoned. Advanced analytics have become not a supplement but a standard in the front office.
Drafting and development are now religion, a conversion from the pagan way of hoping to get lucky on the farm while big money got thrown at what a player already did instead of what he was expected to do (and with a no-trade clause for good measure!). Petitioning to get rid of a bad-on-multiple-levels song has happened. Wrigley Field is even undergoing a facelift.
Tradition is recognized by the new Cubs as the logical fallacy that it is — particularly when that tradition involves perpetual failure — and serving only as counterproductive to the goal of being a respectable and winning organization. They understand the past has nothing to do with this new spring and those that lie beyond.
But as spring training is underway in Arizona, reborn is not only the hope that "this is the year" but also the narrative of nearly 107 years of futility. Like peeing in troughs, "Go Cubs Go" and counting starting pitcher wins, the century-plus meme needs to die as well.
That was the old Cubs. They worked under a completely different organizational philosophy for decades. Fans of the old Cubs plopped down cash and butts to be part of a party that happened to be interrupted by some baseball. They've been gradually replaced with fans who understand the evolving game and a more family friendly environment in which kids can watch baseball instead of being an afterthought in a profane beer garden.
The Cubs of 1908 literally played a different game than these new Cubs. So did the Cubs of Banks and Santo. The timeline of 100-plus years ended a few years ago. Not with a World Series, but with a change in attitude toward nostalgia and curses and quaint, farcical BS.
The new Cubs are a continuation in name only. There should be a rip in the franchise's statistics or some denotation marking the years O.C. and N.C. Nobody inside the organization cares about 1969 or 1984 or 2008. Billy goats, Bartmans, WGN Radio and Woo Woos mean absolutely squat to Theo Epstein, Joe Maddon, Starlin Castro and the grounds crew.
To call oneself a Cubs fan today is to forget a century and more of losing. Such is the introduction to this the textbook being written by the new Cubs, and who the hell reads the introduction?
Whichever petty exercise in semantics of 107 years in which someone wants to engage might as well be the Hundred Years' War. That triple-digit number means nothing to the present. It merely represents the old Cubs, who are no more.
That history can be appreciated — thanks for those painful memories, old Cubs. Now they are fodder for historians, an artifact to gather dust and be gawked at behind a velvet rope, not to be held up in celebration or badge of honor.
If you hear someone mention triple-digit futility in regards to the new Cubs, scold that person in public. Point and laugh even. That person speaks of phrenology and leeches.
The old Cubs are dead. Buried. To mourn them today is unhealthy. To cling to them, foolish and a request not to join in the looming success of the new Cubs. The old Cubs represent something that is no more. They didn't win for more than 100 bygone years.
The new Cubs haven't won since right now.
Follow Tim on Twitter at @TimBaffoe.
