I’m enamored. In love. With the Chicago Cubs. Because of their losing
tradition. They lose baseball game after baseball game. Every which way. The
Cubs over the past century have taken the craft of losing. And turned it into
pure art. They’ve created masterpieces.
When it comes to losing. Nobody has done it better. They have found the worst ways to lose. And
that’s the beauty of it. They have put Cubs fans to the test. They have separated
true fans from the fakes. The lovers
from the pretenders. I keep on expecting the Cubs to win. The World Series.
They haven’t done it since 1908. Though
they have come close. They last got to the World Series in 1945. When most
major league teams lost their best players to active duty in World War II. But
the Cubs had some artful draft dodgers. And won the National League pennant.
But in the end, the Cubs retained a losing tradition. By blowing the World Series. To the Detroit Tigers. In the 7th
game. A heartbreaking loss. The kind that masochistic Cubs fans like me
deserve. And have learned to love. We relish having our heart strings ripped loose.
It feels good. To suffer. All for the sake of a test of our true love. This
season, the Cubs are on course to lose over 100 games. Perhaps an all-time loss
record for the Cubs. Indeed, a lofty/lowly goal. But if any baseball team can achieve
the seemingly impossible...it’s the beloved losers. The Cubs. The Cubs. Losers forever and a day. But that won’t
deter me. I remain a loyal Cubs fan. True love. True love. True love. –Jim Broede
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