It was a blustery night here in Burbank as I dared to cross the Golden State Freeway. The phone calls rang after last night's success. But this is not the north side. And I know this, of course, but the surroundings probably did more good than I knew at the time. It was time to celebrate amidst the sports apathy.
Some punk girl who wouldn't know the Cubs logo from Pabst Blue Ribbon gave me a high five. But she was looking for the train, so I took it in stride. And as I've soon found out, most Burbank bars are dead, so my possible excitement was muted by the calmed surroundings. One other person acknowledged the Cubs, but it was almost with a ring of "I know that team!" Sure you do, honey, back to your Coors Light.
As I returned home, I felt happy but no more than usual. And then Ronnie's words from the "landslide" election came into my head. Of course, he fucking knew he had it. But you don't really know...so you're optimistic. The north side hasn't won anything but they have the chance to do so. I told Steve Simpson, someone who curiously had much joy writing about Cubs losses in the past, that the team would only succeed assbackwards. If they blow out anyone in the playoffs, I shall be more surprised than the fact they're here in the first place. They're already jinxed. They're already bad. We all know this (despite others reminding me anyway). So that's the expectation. But if it's otherwise...the sports world will truly turn from its head to its ass. Baseball and its scribes will never be the same.
So, 1 month from now, if you see the overfed folks nervously rushing around the supermarket stocking up on gravy, Velveeta and Ranch dressing, just remember: they're not preparing for Thanksgiving. Their life will be anew, and they'll have no idea what the next day will bring.
