Wisch: What Cubs Fans Will Lose If They Ever Win
By Dave Wischnowsky –
(CBS) My dad was born in Chicago on Sept. 24, 1945.
Sixteen days later, on October the 10th, the Cubs fell behind 5-0 in the first inning against Hal Newhouser and the Detroit Tigers and were ultimately felled 9-3 in Game 7 of the World Series at Wrigley Field.
After that, the team fell out of the Fall Classic.
And it still hasn't gotten back up.
With the Flop of Twenty-Eleven, the Cubs' championship drought has now extended to 103 (long) years. And, while that's a truly staggering number, I think what's perhaps even more remarkable is that the ballclub hasn't even reached a World Series in a stunning 66 years.
To not win a Series in a century (plus), I can somewhat understand. Well, not really. But I do acknowledge that it's incredibly difficult to become a champion – in any sport. However, to not even make it to a World Series since '45 – "the year we dropped the bomb on Japan" as the late Cubs balladeer Steve Goodman once sang – now, that's truly incomprehensible.
Just getting there – something that even the expansion franchises in Miami, Phoenix, Tampa Bay and Denver have all done in the past 18 years since they were born – simply isn't that hard. At least, it shouldn't be.
But, for the Cubs, it is.
And, of course, that's what makes the team what it is. And, in turn, it's at the core of what makes Cubs fans what they are, too.
Now, just like every other long-suffering Cubs fan – even if my wait encompasses only a mere 35 seasons – I've often wondered what it would be like if the Lovable Losers actually did win the World Series.
Certainly, it would be remarkable event – the biggest sports story in the history of sports stories, and one that would make headlines across the globe. On the North Side of Chicago, authorities likely would have to set up a demilitarized zone from Montrose Avenue to Fullerton and from Western Avenue to Lake Shore Drive (heck, maybe the lake itself) just to contain the postgame celebration.
The city wouldn't sleep for a week.
Well, White Sox fans might. But Cubs fans would make it difficult.
At the same time as imagining everything that giddy Cubs fans would gain with a world championship, however, unlike most others who root on the North Siders, I've also often pondered what it is that we would lose.
Yes, lose.
Because, having been denied championship glory for 103 years and left sitting on the World Series stoop for 66, the Cubs' star-crossed history has made its double-crossed fandom something special. Not happy, mind you, but special. There's no denying that. Fans of opposing teams may scoff, but when a longtime fan wears that Red Badge of Courage on the front of his or her Cubs cap, it does truly mean something.
Something utterly different than wearing any other team's cap means (in any sport) – and something truly unique that's taken an entire century (now, plus three) to build.
But if the Cubs ever do win, all of that will be gone in an instant.
Poof. Just like that.
As new Cubs general manager Theo Epstein can tell you, being a Red Sox fan used to mean something unique too. Suffering from their own curse at Fenway, they were the fatalistic fans that expected to lose, whereas Cubs fans instead hoped to win. With the playoff collapse of 2003, however, the identity of the Cubs fan did change somewhat. And since then they've since became a bit more antagonistic and much more pessimistic.
In 2004, that unique underdog identity that Red Sox Nation bore for so long vanished forever. With the team's World Series title that season – followed by another one in 2007 – rooting on the Red Sox suddenly became no different than rooting on the Yankees. (Sorry, Boston, but it's true.)
Both franchises are rich and now largely reviled. And with a championship, the fact is, the Cubs would likely become the same. While a championship would be special, being a fan of the North Siders no longer would be – not in the same way.
Because, something incredibly unique that took eons to build would disappear in an instant – and never would return. In any city – or any sport. Opposing fans can scoff, but that's no small thing to ponder.
Now, jeez, don't get me wrong. As an Illinois boy born in blue and raised in Wrigley, I hope to see the Cubs win a World Series as much as anyone. But if and when (and if) it does happen, I will spend at least one moment stepping back from the thrill of victory to pay the unique identity of the "Cubs fan" its well-deserved final respects.
But that payment is long past due.
On Tuesday, the as-impressive-as-advertised Epstein was introduced at Wrigley Field and told Cubs Nation, "When we build that foundation for sustained success and it ultimately results in a World Series, it's going to be more than just a World Series.
"It's going to (affect) a lot of people, Cubs fans and Cubs families for generations who waited and waited for a World Series."
For my dad, it's been an entire lifetime. For myself, it's been long enough. And it's high time to finally win a championship.
So we can lose something, too.
No matter how special it might be.
If nothing else, Dave Wischnowsky is an Illinois boy. Raised in Bourbonnais, educated at the University of Illinois and bred on sports in the Land of Lincoln, he now resides on Chicago's North Side, just blocks from Wrigley Field. Formerly a reporter and blogger for the Chicago Tribune, Dave currently writes a syndicated column, The Wisch List, which you can check out via his blog at http://www.wischlist.com. Read more of his CBS Chicago blog entries here.
