I’m not a Cubs fan by any stretch of the imagination, but when it sank in a couple of minutes after the Cubs celebrated their first World Series since 1908, I cried.
I cried for the memories of summers watching WGN TV when on family holiday in Flat Rock, North Carolina. Harry Caray was a permanent, taking everyone through the day games. Sometimes the Cubs won. Most of the time they lost. But every day they were at home, I found myself wanting to be at Wrigley Field somewhere near the famous ivy at centrefield, thanking God that this was baseball heaven.
I cried for history. So many Cubs Fans had seen their hearts broken by seasons upon seasons of their teams’ incompetence. And when they had made the play-offs, it was ultimately disappointing. And generally, the series weren’t even close. Now the Cubs fans had their wish. This was their moment. Their happiness. Their joy.
I cried for the fact that I knew Chicago Cubs fans who were crapping themselves, including one who wouldn’t take off a fleece jacket even in the hot temperatures of Game 6, and the one I knew from a rehab a few years before. We had stayed sober. Others hadn’t and hadn’t made it this far, departing for early graves.
I cried it because I needed to cry, and the drama sports will do that to you, and that’s OK. I’d adopted the Cubs during these play-offs because my own team – who are completely on the opposite end of the spectrum when it comes to play-off success – hadn’t made the postseason. And I wanted to see history. And so when the Cubs had their rollercoaster, they took me with them.
Looking back at it, if you were going to compare Game 7 to a movie, it would be the Rocky where our hero battles Apollo Creed in an epic bout. Except the Cleveland Indians were Rocky. Every time it looked like they were down-and-out, they came back. All the way from 5-1 they came back to tie it at 6-6 with a two-run bomb from Rajai Davis. Suddenly it was Apollo that was rocking. The crowd was shouting for Rocky – especially LeBron James - a man who had brought Cleveland as a city their first title in God knows how long earlier this year when they beat the Warriors - and his crew in a Progressive Field SkyBox. This was going to be the first victory for them since 1948. You hear the pins drop as the tide change. We were going to extra innings, free baseball, maybe to the 15th, and the momentum was completely with Cleveland.
Well, the Baseball Gods might not normally shine on the Cubs, but they did this year, bringing water and dousing the Apollo and Rocky's sparkling battle. A lot of it. So much so that the tarps had to be brought on, and we were all going to be waiting around a bit. This writer, watching on 100% helplessly from London, muttered something under his breath about the fact he'd really like to sleep sometime.
After the clouds were blown away, Apollo came into the 10th with a new attitude, smacking the Indians with a few blows that took the score to 8-6. Chicago was screaming again with joy. The victory cigars were beginning to be clamped in the mouth, and people were beginning to tell you about what had happened since the Cubs last won the Series. And then Rocky came back. That man Davis hit another single, and with two outs, the score was cut to 8-7, delivering a suddenly 'shut the hell up' to any premature celebrators around Wrigley, Wrigleyville, and London. Would Rocky win it all?
The Baseball Gods took a deep breath, Kris Bryant grinned and threw the ball to Anthony Rizzo, and the rest is doused in celebratory shots, champagne and whole lot of tears, all putting out the fires of 108 years of hurt and pain.
And as Cubs fans went crazy and celebrated with each other, many of them mouthed these words for the man that took them on the journey, but was watching on from the bar in the sky: "That one was for you, Harry."
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