Last night, I heard the words that I had given up hearing in my lifetime, “The Cubs have won the World Series.” I almost gave up on them last night, too, in the eighth inning when they gave up their lead. But I didn’t. I stood at attention, on pins and needs, watching. . . through the bottom of the ninth when the score remained tied, through the rain delay and finally through the top of the tenth when they once again took the lead and then through the bottom of the tenth for that last dramatic out. It was a moment that took my breath away.
I grew up with the Cubs. My father watched the games. During the 1980s, he even took me to a few games. He had season passes. He taught me how to keep score using the old-fashioned scorecards. We went on camera day when you could go on the field and take pictures with the players. Then in college, my roommates and I watched the games, leading up to the playoffs in 1984 when they lost to the San Diego Padres. Although separated by distance, my roommates and I spent the last seven games, texting and cheering the Cubs on.
All day, I have been switching between work and reading the news stories or watching the videos, including the touching one that has Harry calling the game and that final moment, “Holy Cow.”
Now that the Cubs have won, what is next? I woke up this morning and the world was still here. I am reveling in the excitement, wearing my World Series playoff shirt, waiting for my official World Series Champions shirt. Everything else continues except the knowledge that the Cubs which joined us together as super fans supporting the “lovable losers,” now bring us together as “winners.”
Now when we say wait until next year, we can say it with confidence knowing that it might just happen.