Go Cubs Go

Three-year-old Pat repping the Cubs (and some awesome war wounds from my attempts to ride my tricycle through a brick wall).
For the entirety of my 34-years on this Earth I have been a Cubs fan. Born in Chicago, descended from at least one die-hard Cubs fan, my Grandmother Constance Catanzaro (and one White Sox fan, Joseph Catanzaro), I have always loved the Chicago Cubs. One of my oldest Chicago memories is going to Wrigley Field with my Grandma, my Mom, and at least one of my aunts (maybe others) and sitting in the stands enjoying one of those frozen chocolate malts you eat with a wooden stick. Now there is a picture of a five year-old Pat wearing his Grandpa's Chicago White Sox cap, and I did root for them in 2005, but such is to be expected in a divided family tree.

I'll be the first to admit I'm not a baseball obsessed sports fan. Basketball is my number one (Hard not to be with MJ and the Bulls dominating your youth), But the Cubs have always been my baseball team and going to Wrigley Field is an occasion that cannot be matched. I've sat in the bleachers, in the nosebleeds, behind obstructed views, down the first & second baseline, and nearly everywhere in between. I've gone to Wrigley with family members, former girlfriends, acquaintances, and when I couldn't find anyone I've gone on my own.

Now after 71 years the World Series returns to Wrigley. Will I be there? Goodness no. You either have to be lucky, a con-man, or rich to get in that stadium this week. No I'll be watching the Series from my couch like 99% of everyone else. But that 71 year gap certainly makes you think. My Grandpa Russell Boberg was born in 1915, SEVEN YEARS after the Cubs won their last world series, and Grandpa would go on to live his entire 81 years without the Cubs taking the Series. Now I don't really know if he was a sports fan at all, but 81 years is an incredible stretch to go without celebrating a championship let alone 108 years.

In 2006, when Marieta and I moved to Chicago, I was excited to take Marieta to Wrigley and I not-so-secretly hoped she'd sprinkle a little Boston pixie dust on my team from her time living in Bean town when they broke their Championship streak. Well not only did that '06 team go on to be terrible, but the day we moved to Cook County, Derrek Lee -the Cubs leading batter- broke his arm and with it the lovable losers season. Still as a true Cubs fan, that did not stymie my excitement to share Wrigley with my future wife.






In 2006 we went to three games together -including an awesome five home run Crosstown Classic game- and I attended five more with friends. Sadly, in Spring 2007 we moved to San Francisco and I wouldn't have the opportunity to visit Wrigley again until this year.

But if there was any year to get back into the friendly confines this is the one. The Cubs are the team of destiny. Whether that destiny will be actualized is yet to be seen but all year the only real story worth following in baseball is the wire-to-wire joy ride of the Cubbies. The game I was able to squeeze in did not dissapoint. Kyle Hendricks pitched a beauty, Rizzo hit two home runs, and I ate two Chicago dogs while filming a few beats with my Osmo.


So tonight is Game 3 and Kyle Hendricks is once again taking the mound. The best thing about being a roll-with-the-punches sports fan like most Cubs seem to be is that your stomach doesn't get in knots until the end is nigh. Until the Cubs are on the cusp of elimination it's nothing but a party. I have confidence in Hendricks, I believe the roster will put it all together when it matters, and with some luck in a week Chicago will be celebrating a broken streak with a parade in the streets of the greatest city in the world.

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