An occasional consolation prize.

Well, maybe I can bear to watch, after all. Because I have become resigned. To the fact that the Chicago Cubs won't quite make it all the way to the World Series. At least not this year. But maybe still. In my lifetime. Another reason for me to try to live forever. To never die.  The Cubs are down. Three games to none. To the New York Mets. For the right to represent the National League in the World Series. One more loss. And it's all over for the Cubs. Of course, there's still a chance. For a miracle. With Cubs winning four straight. A perfect storybook ending. The kind of scenario I'd concoct. If I were a baseball god. Instead, I'm human. Lesser than a god.  But that ain't bad. Really. Being second best. Being subservient. Being respectful. Being accepting. Of life as it is. Maybe I'll watch the game tonight. On TV. And at least. Try to pretend. That I am a baseball god. Capable of manipulating the outcome. Of a sporting event. Salvaging a token meaningless win. For the Chicago Cubs. All I need in life. An occasional consolation prize. --Jim Broede