I’ve been a good Cubs fan all my life. I cried in 1969, I weeped a few times after that when the Cubs let me down, but I stayed with my heroes because I believe. And going into Wednesday night’s game down 3-0 to the Mets, I still have hope that the Cubs can pull out a victory in the NLCS, or at least this game.
I wanted to see the Cubs play in this series really badly. I had a line on tickets to see the in Los Angeles should they take on the Dodgers, but couldn’t snag tickets in New York or Chicago. I registered for every “win a trip to the World Series” contest I could find and signed up for every drawing the Cubs had that might give me the chance to buy tickets. No luck, so I watched every playoff game, even the ones played here in St. Louis, at home, wearing one of the TWO Cubs Postseason shirts I bought from my supplier of all things Cubs and had smuggled into Cardinals Enemy Territory.
So at about 2:15 Wednesday afternoon, I get this e mail fro the Cubs Front Office:
ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME? I’m in St. Louis, I get 45 minutes to try to buy tickets to the Cubs/Mets game, and not even Marty McFly‘s hoverboard will get me to the ballpark on time. Yes, that was my obligatory Back To The Future Day reference, thankyouveryuch. The ONE thing I wanted this postseason drops into my lap, and I can’t use it.
I don’t care if the Cubs are down, they certainly are not out. And they probably have the best chance of winning tonight of any of their games at the Friendly Confines because, well, because it just works out that way with the Cubs.
I had originally planned to be around Chicago this week, both to soak in the ambiance of Wrigleyville and to try to get reasonably priced scalper tickets after the third inning of a game. But fears of massive crowds around the Shrine Of Baseball and a wild workload kept me in Enemy Territory, which I’m sure is why I’ve been given the chance to buy tickets to the game.
I hope whoever got my ticket r tickets enjoys the game and leaves wth memories of a Cubs win. As for me, I’ll be sitting at home wondering why I can’t find Old Style beer in St. Louis and wondering if I’ll ever have reason to wear these two shirts ever again.