Cubs Playoff Woes

First Appeared in The Focus on October 9, 2008

I Can’t Believe I Watched the Whole Thing!

By

Roland Tolliver

“Chicago Cubs fans are ninety percent scar tissue.” --George Will



The year was 1968 and I was helping to head up the mock election for President in our elementary school. It was the year of Richard M. Nixon and Hubert H. Humphrey. It was also, for all of us living in Michigan, “The Year of the Tigers.” As crucial as the upcoming election was, and believe me, the campaign lasted nowhere near as long as the current one, life was put on hold for Carlson Elementary School. I know it is ancient history for some, but this was in the days before a television - complete with cable - in every classroom. It was the only time during my thirteen years in public education that a television was brought into the room in order for the class to watch the World Series games involving the Detroit Tigers and the St. Louis Cardinals. Mr. Kemp allowed us to hang on every pitch, as the games were played during the daytime then. Television didn’t control the schedule in those days.

This past week, we once again put a political campaign on the backburner, the Palin-Biden debate notwithstanding, in order to watch hometown teams compete in the Major League playoffs. The Tigers faded this year faster than a complete sentence by Ron Santo when the Cubs make an error. Not since 1906 had both the Cubs and the White Sox been in the postseason at the same time. Chicago and Illinois were gung-ho a week ago. The Cubs had won the Central Division and had the best record in the National League and with it, home field advantage throughout the playoffs. The Sox took two extra days to secure a place among the final eight teams.

And then a strange feeling a déjà-Blue came over Cub fans throughout the area and the country. We watched the first game and cheered when Mark DeRosa hit a two-run home run into the right field bleachers. Ron Santo continually reminded us that “this is the year!” We were given that hope, that belief, that thrill of anticipation that we were on our way. Ryan “Home Field Rules” Dempster was on the mound and the wind was blowing in. Somehow, some way, though, the wind seemed to blow the ball every which way but over the plate. Walk the bases loaded and then … Loney Tunes … James Loney (who?) launches one over the center field wall and it is the “grand salami.” Bases cleared, Cub fans sigh, and we never lead again in the entire series. I watched each inning, staying up until late in the night, hoping, wishing, cajoling, and the end result was another year without a playoff win.

Only four teams have been swept two years in a row in the playoffs. The Cubs are now one of them. Only two teams had the best record in the National League and then were swept in the first round of the playoffs. The Cubs are now one of those two. The games were disheartening, disappointing and devoid of any of the fun-filled action that they displayed throughout the regular season. We couldn’t pitch when we needed to. We couldn’t hit when men were on base. We couldn’t field when the ball was hit to us.

I know that “we” weren’t on the field or at the plate or in the dugout, but “we” have been behind the team during this magical year, hanging on every curve ball, every home run, every anxious moment. And “we” were the ones that couldn’t afford playoff tickets and sat home and watched each pitch and garnered a greater and greater feeling of dread whenever Alfonso Soriano came to the plate or when a runner was on base and we could sense the impending double-play ball would be hit by one of our players. We could see the Cubs sitting on their hands with their heads down while on the bench or see them with their gloves up when the ball was down when they were on the field.

No matter what superstition or lucky charm or magical field was invoked or which god was prayed to or how many times the dugout was blessed, a team has to be able to hit, throw, and catch a baseball better than the other team. The Cubs didn’t do that and once again we must “wait till next year.” Now it is 101 years and counting.

The Tigers went on to stun the Cardinals in the 1968 World Series after being down three games to one. Hubert Humphrey won our school’s mock election, though not the real one. Denny McLain, who would be the last pitcher to win 30 games in a year, would eventually leave the game in disgrace after being traded to the Washington Senators, as would the winner of that year’s election, Richard Nixon, who was ironically also dismissed from Washington, D.C. in disgrace. Some events in life are difficult to predict, much like trying to figure out when the Cubs will win their next World Series.

Now, it is back to the election season (though the White Sox just won to stay alive in the playoffs as I write this on Sunday evening) and there is once again a major decision to be made about leadership in our country. But before that day arrives … “Hey, Lou! Why didn’t you put Fontenot at second to start the series and put DeRosa in right? Could you talk to Soriano about not swinging at everything within his sight line? Why didn’t you take out Dempster and put in Marshall after Ryan’s fourth walk? Will ‘Big Z’ ever grow up? What’s up with Derrick ‘Double Play’ Lee when a man’s on base?” So many questions, so much off-season time …