Wednesday, September 27, 2006

From The Heart of the Heart Broken

WARNING: I'm pissed off and I'm drunk. Now, on with the show.
  • So I watched the HBO special on the Cubs tonight. It turned into a great drinking game where I drank six beers in a 40 minute span. I wrote what the baseball part of me thought in my Cubs blog @ http://mydamncubbies.blogspot.com. But personally I can't let go. I was on the verge of tears when they talked about the 2003 team. When they played that Bartman footage, everything replayed in my head. Everything from that day. It's sad that I can retrace EVERY footstep of that day. I point to that day in specific as the day my life turned out for the worst. People say that losing their virginity is "their loss of innosence." For me, games 6 and 7 of the 2003 of the NLCS was worse than the worst experience I've ever had. That took my innocence. That took my childhood from me. That jilted me forever. I mean it kills me just thinking about what could have been. It makes me want to cry now that I'm just letting it all go on paper here. It's so hurtful. It's so painful.
  • And only Cub fans really feel my pain, but no one SPECIFICALLY feels MY pain. Because I am the Cubs. The curse transfers over to me. And to think for years I pointed at a "cursed e-mail." Nope, it's just a branch effect of the Billy Goat. It explains my fear of Black Cats. It explains my quote in which I compared myself to the hated Tribune Corporation "I'm competitive until the price goes up." I am the Cubs. And I hate it. I hate myself. I truly do. I hate that I embody the Cubs. A cursed, choke artist who is a feel good story that you want to cheer for and you hope the best for but in the end you know what's going to happen. You know that somehow the Cubs are gonna blow it in the 9th. You know that 9 game lead will eventually diminish. You know the Cubs will trade some potential All-Star for a washed up ballplayer. You know that in the end the Cubs will not be the champion. Just like you know that Lu will eventually choke. You know will get to a point and then it will be all downhill from there. You know that Lu's competitive until someone with a bigger offer that isn't necessarily the best comes in and takes what Lu wants away from him. In the end Lu will choke. In the end the Cubs will choke. In the end Lu will be the loser. In the end the Cubs will be the loser. In the end, both of us will still be waiting for next year.

All I want is one chance. That's all I ever wanted. Yes I choked, yes I've failed and yes I live in misery. But I believe I've earned my one shot. Will I get it, ever? Who knows. To be honest, probably not. I'll be living with it hanging over my head for years upon years. Like Brock for Broglio, I'll be constantly reminded of my stupidity. Like 1969, 1984 and 2003 I will be constnatly reminded of how close I was but in the end still came up a little too short. Choke artist is something that I might never shake off. And that is a scary thought.

Good night from Carbondale, maybe I can sleep this off.

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