Friday, October 03, 2008

No Joy In Mudville...

...at least for the moment. Our poor Cubbies have picked a baaaaaad time to forget how to play baseball. BUT...I still believe.

I’m not kidding. I have a bracelet on that says, “Cubs...Believe.” I think I got it in either 2001 or 2003, saw it in my jewelry drawer this morning and said, “That’s it.” I put it on when I was getting dressed for work, and it will stay on for the duration. Shoulda thought to put it on sooner, I think.

Some Cubs bloggers and forum posters believe the sunny clime of southern California will do these guys a world of good. I can’t help but agree, if for no other reason than that the atmosphere at Wrigley over these past couple of days was weird, not Wrigley-like at all. Blame it on the playoffs and the hierarchy of “VIPs” who take over ballparks at times like this…people who wouldn’t normally bother to go to a baseball game if it were the only entertainment in town. But, hey, it’s a prestige ticket, it’s an opportunity for face time on national TV—and that’s how you end up with a blasé crowd that not only forgot how to cheer “Fu-ko-do-me” at the right times, but didn’t even bother to chant “Let’s Go Cubbies” except at a few scattered moments. Even then, it was a pale shadow of the normal chant we’re used to in Wrigleyville. By rights, that place should have been rocking—literally—every single inning. Yeah, you cheered for Soriano’s base hit…but then where did you go?

Infielders bobble the ball? That’s the time they need support, folks, not silence. Think that rewards bad play? Think again. No one in the ballpark felt worse about those flubs than Derosa, Lee, et al. What do they need to hear at that point, do you suppose? Catcalls from the stands?

That’s not how Cub fans operate. Which means that the majority of people at these games must either not have been Cub fans…or must have been struck with a severe bunting-triggered amnesia.

All I know is, had I been at either or both of those games, I would have no voice today. If any of you do, shame on you. You need to act like you actually care about the playoffs. That comes out as cheering on every pitch a patient Cub batter takes. That comes out as cheering, loud and long, on every out that’s made by a Cub fielder. If you need a refresher on how to cheer at a ball game, remember the last series we played at Miller Park. Those people were pumped…as you in the stands should have been. It would have made all the difference. But it didn’t…for reasons only you ticket holders who sat on your hands and talked on your cell phones—or whatever you occupied your time with instead of cheering—know.

As I said, shame on you. In a weird, sick way, you got the kind of play out of that team you deserved. You couldn’t tell they were pushing too hard? You couldn’t tell how much it mattered? You couldn’t tell they needed to be reminded that this thing is supposed to be fun?

Real Cub fans would remind them of that. Next time, leave the tickets to games like this for real Cub fans who
get it.

We’ll probably get more noise out of West Coast Cub fans than we got out of Chicago’s own, and that might be cause for a far worse worry than the Cubs going “flat” from nothing more than trying too hard. But if it propels us to win three straight, I ain’t gonna complain.

I’m just gonna wish you weird “corporate” types would get over yourselves, and realize that legitimate baseball fans deserve to be in a baseball park for an experience like this. You, apparently, don’t.


My take,
Janny

2 comments:

Deb said...

You got your bracelet in 2005? I'm surprised you didn't get it in like 1967 ... Cubs fans have been saying, "Next year!" for at least that long.

And I agree--regular fans should make up 99% of the folks in the ballpark. Elite, shmelite.

Denn Mom said...

Love your take! I followed you over from the Faith & Family Live "Play Ball" post just looking for other blogging Cubs fans I guess (who happen to be Catholic!). I am very disappointed in their first two games but, in true Cub-fan fashion -- we're eternal optimists, aren't we? -- I haven't lost hope! GO CUBBIES!