CHICAGO- They came looking for excitement and hope.
Instead, they once again left with more bitter disappointment.
Optimism is in full supply when it comes to rooting for the Chicago Cubs. But when you have yet to win a World Series in 100 years, and have yet to even get to a Fall Classic in over 60, that optimism turns into pessimism, cynicism and downright fatalism.
Such was the case inside Wrigley Field in Game 2 of the National League Division Series.
Admittedly, I have never taken to the "Cub Experience". While I root for the Yankees, the Cubs to me are like the little fly that roams around the room. You never really pay attention to it until it begins to bother you and at that point, you hope it is squashed with a swatter.
I see many Cubs fans around and they will walk around with their hats, jerseys and tee shirts. Over the past few years, it has exploded. They have in some ways become like Red Sox fans only without the winning. They are large in numbers, which gives them comfort, yet success on the baseball diamond is rarely accomplished by their team with the red "C" across the top of their caps.
This season was different. From start to finish, they were the best team in the National League. Hitting, defense and pitching were all superb across the board. It appeared this would be the team to make the World Series.
When they failed in '03, that was epic. But in retrospect, that was an over achieving team that was not expected to go anywhere and yet, surprisingly got within one game before events on (and off) the white lines caused defeat.
In 2007, they were not favored to beat win either. They struggled early and came back to win their division with only 85 victories. When they were swept, there was shock, but not complete anger.
This year was to eliminate the past. To borrow a slogan from the rival Mets, they were "The Team, The Time, The Cubs". But as they lost Game 1 to the Dodgers on Wednesday night, nervousness and doubt once again filled the air. It was as if the fans felt they were Charlie Brown trying to kick the field goal and having the ball swiped away at the last moment.
Knowing all of this, I decided to do an experiment. I wanted to get a pulse of what Cubs Nation actually was. Going to games in the middle of April or the middle of July was not going to do. I needed to see what these fans were like in a postseason situation where the agita level is turned way up and everything was on the line.
As a walked around the park in the hour before game time, it was a very mixed reaction. Some were likely going to their first playoff game and there is an air of anticipation with that. Others I could hear were already trying to decide what inning it would be before the Cubs screwed it up. It was "pre-Game 4 in the 9th inning Red Sox-esque".
When I made my way to my seat, at that point I could feel the intensity of the crowd. Fans and media had unfairly got on them for not being loud enough in Game 1, but that is hard to do when your starting pitcher walks seven batters. Tonight, the crowd to me was in "Win or go home" mode, knowing that a loss tonight would likely mean this would be the final game at Wrigley Field this season.
Carlos Zambrano mows down the Dodgers in the top of the first, capped off by striking out Manny Ramirez. In the bottom half, Alfonso Soriano lead off with a single and crowd roars in applause. Perhaps they may have seen the same number that I uncovered:
Since the start of the 2003 ALCS, Soriano is 12 for 71 in four playoff series.
He moves to second on a passed ball and it is all set up for the Cubs to get an early run. Rather than bunting (which I would not have done), manager Lou Piniella allows Ryan Theriot to swing away. Unfortunately, he is unable to move the runner over. The same can be said for Derrek Lee and Aramis Ramirez. Dodgers starter Chad Billingsley escapes without allowing a run, but in many ways, escaped a lot more than that. A run scored by Chicago would have put the crowd in frenzy and given the team a time (however short) to relax. When Soriano was stranded, you could feel the crowd watch in amazement. I knew there were storm warnings in the air.
The Dodgers got a leadoff single by Andre Ethier to begin the second inning. What began happening next was something that reeked of voodoo (assuming you believe in that stuff).
James Loney on a perfect hit-and-run shot the ball to the left side where Theriot was out of position and tried to bare hand the ball. It was now first and third with no one out and the crowd that was in a craze, had now been silenced. For me, it was similar to what Fenway Park would sound like during the playoffs when the team was losing to the Yankees before 2004. The fans in Wrigley were almost waiting for the inevitable shoe to drop.
Zambrano would strike out Matt Kemp, only needing a double play to escape the inning without giving up any runs. It appeared he would get it when second baseman Blake Dewitt hit a groundball to Mark DeRosa. However, DeRosa bobbled the ball and his throw to second base pulled Theriot off the bag. Everyone was safe and the Dodgers had a 1-0 lead.
Third baseman Casey Blake then hit a ball towards sure handed first baseman Derrek Lee. A Gold Glove fielder, Lee had the ball bounce off his chest and looked around trying to find it. By the time he located it, Blake was safe at first base and now the bases were loaded.
As I listened, defeat already began to set in. Boos were raining down from the people all around me. It seemed as if the crowd was resigning itself to its fate.
“Here we go again”, said one fan.
“Can you f’n believe this,” said another.
“How is this happening?” said an older fan watching with his family.
Mind you, the score was only 1-0, but it felt like much more.
Zambrano struck out pitcher Chad Billingsley for the second out and just needed to retire shortstop Rafael Furcal to end the inning. Furcal took a chance and was able to lay a bunt that got past Zambrano and too short in front of DeRosa to field and make a play. Furcal was safe, Loney scored and the Dodgers now led 2-0.
The bunt caught everyone, including the crowd, off guard. Rarely does a hitter bunt with two strikes. When he was safe, one fans voice told the story.
“What the fuck?” said a fan.
Russell Martin came to the plate, and there was still a chance to escape the inning with the minimal damage that had taken place. But as the count went to three balls and a strike with Ramirez looming on deck. Zambrano needed to throw a strike and Martin waited for it. He laced a double into the left centerfield gap that cleared the bases.
Dodgers 5, Cubs 0
Game over.
Complete silence took over the place. I saw fans putting their hands on their faces and looked helpless. One fan, who had to be about 14 years old looked at his father and said the following:
“Daddy, why is this happening again?”
The father did not have much of a response but to say, “I don’t know.” What else could he say? No reasonable response could be given that would make any sense at all. The best defense in the National League suddenly could not field a groundball. Their starting pitcher, deemed their “ace”, could not pickup his teammates and now was down 5-0, which felt more like 50-0 in the stadium.
In the fourth inning, Aramis Ramirez booted a groundball hit by Billingsley. The next inning, Ramirez drilled a Zambrano pitch to dead center field to make it 6-0. On a night where Billingsley had his “A” stuff, the Cubs were powerless to stop it. As they tried to will their team back, it sounded as if even the fans did not believe what they were saying. Their heart had been taken from them. And with each Dodger run, each Cubs defensive miscue, and each Cubs hitter strikeout and hit groundball, their heart was being squashed and dragged around Wrigley Field.
Piniella came to the mound in the seventh inning to pull Zambrano. Despite trailing 6-0, he was looked as a sympathetic figure by the fans. He may have given up the double to make it 5-0, but he should have been out of the inning. It was a team failure, but in many ways a lot fans felt as if there was more. Believing in curses or jinxes in my view has always been for losers and crazy people, but for any Cubs fan that was witnessing what was taken place, what other answer could you give?
Perhaps the Cubs and their fans earned this fate. Maybe bad karma came over them on that Tuesday night in Game 6 of the National League Championship Series when a young fan, Steve Bartman was made out to be Public Enemy #1 by Cubs fans when he tried to reach for that foul ball in the eighth inning. By fate, this led to an eight-run inning and an eventual Cubs loss, follow up by failure in Game 7.
The measures that the Cubs fans went to smear and make that person’s life a living hell in the 24 hours following that incident was sickening. Uncovering his name, where he lived, where he worked and had news choppers over his home. It was a sickening display, and for a large majority of Cubs to endorse what was going on in the excuse of “irrational passion” is ridiculous. By coincidence, they have not won a playoff game since.
Bartman has yet to do an interview since that night in 2003. Reports still say that he no longer goes to Cubs games or appears in public for fear of his safety if he were ever to be discovered. Thinking of what he has had to go through the last five years in many ways makes you lose sympathy for their cause.
Even less sympathy comes from the fact that many of their fans seemingly dismissed the Dodgers as an opponent in this series. Many were already planning for the NLCS and even the World Series. To them, the Division Series was meaningless and was to be nothing more than an exhibition.
Why?
I am still not exactly sure.
The team (and its fans) has had no such successful postseason track record to justify any such arrogance. Do they think they are Red Sox or Yankees fans?
As the final outs began to tick away, the building began to empty out. There were maybe 20,000 left in the crowd. I tried to lend my Cubs fan friend some support that the series was not over, but there was no consoling him. All that was left was for the remaining patrons to boo their players unmercifully.
Final insult came in the ninth inning when Theriot committed an error on a throw to first base. It was the teams fourth “E” of the game, and in ironic fashion, each Cubs infielder committed an error. It would have been funny if it did not feel like a comedic tragedy.
The final score was 10-3. As I got up to leave, the fans that had stuck around were crestfallen (though they had about seven innings to do that) and did not say a word. Some stayed in their seats and did not move. Others raced to get out of there so they could either beat traffic, or drown their sorrows in more beer. It was the Cubs eighth consecutive postseason loss and their season was now one loss away from extinction.
A season that brought so much promise was headed for failure. The 100-year itch is likely to continue.
Once again, there is no joy in Wrigleyville.
It is where beers are drunk, the women are plentiful, and losing on a yearly basis is never too far behind.
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