A Lifetime of Continuous Baseball Agony

I freely admit to being a bandwagon baseball fan. To be honest, given my jaded history with America’s pastime I could be far worse.

I started watching baseball in 1980, the year after the Pirates won their last World Series (and probably last ever). I jumped full throttle off the Pirate bandwagon in 1995; about the time they became a nationwide object of sports ridicule. My salvation was to hitch a ride with arguably the most pathetic franchise in the history of sports. I’ve seen seven playoff series losses and two of the most epic playoff collapses in sports history, while losing track of the total number of losing seasons.

Seriously, one might wonder why I pay any attention to baseball at all.

Amazingly, my years backing the Cubbies now all but match my years with the Buccos. The obvious question, which is worse?

Sort of like asking which is worse; the stock market or real estate collapse? Brussel sprouts or wheat germ? Rosie O’Donnell or Rosanne. John and Kate Plus 8…or Kate Plus 8. You get the point.

Actually the Buccos and the Cubbies have a lot in common these days. Both are known for a ballpark experience that far exceeds the product on the field. The Pirates have arguably the nicest new park in baseball and I still say there is nowhere better on earth than Wrigley Field on a sunny weekend afternoon.

Imagine how great these places would be if the teams could win every once in awhile.

So I ask again; which is worse. A team that has not won the World Series in over a century, but is at least competitive every few years; or a team that has not had a winning season in 18 years? That’s nearly two decades without winning 81 stinkin games. There are people joining the army or voting today who have never seen the Buccos finish above 500.

Let’s be clear here, I’m not sure there is a good answer to this question. I would grudgingly go with the Cubs just because at least in theory they have a shot each year. Just as in theory, I had a shot at dating the homecoming queen in high school. Just as in theory, Disque may one day be President of the United States. You get the point.

Since I’ve been in Chicago, the Cubs have made the playoffs 4 times. In three of those years, they were swept out of the playoffs. As for the fourth…yikes.

The fourth year was 2003. That’s when Kerry Wood, Mark Prior, Sammy Sosa and the boys were 1 win away from the World Series. Let’s be clear here, the Cubs were 5 outs away with a 3-0 lead in game 6. Then they imploded because some poor schlub in the stands nicked a foul ball and a $6 Million shortstop could not field a routine double play grounder. Oh and don’t even get me started on Kyle Farnsworth, or more accurately, Stan Belinda reincarnated.

I mean seriously folks; only the Cubs could blow a shot at the World Series because a great glove, no hit middle infielder fails to field a routine ground ball late in the game…right?

WRONG!

Since I’m pouring salt in everybody’s wounds, we all know the same thing happened with Chico Lind in 1992. Twenty agonizing minutes before (NAME NEVER SPOKEN) drove home Sid Bream with the slowest game winning jaunt from 2nd base ever, the Pirates’ gold glove 2nd baseman botched a sure fire, game winning play. Forget the poor idiot in the stands at Wrigley. When Alex Gonzales botched the double play ball a few batters later, I knew for sure the Cubs were toast.

This is the path I’ve chosen in life folks. And people wonder why I’m such a huge hockey fan?

Let’s remember, I did not just miss the Pirates last World Series by one year. That would have been bad enough. I was fortunate enough to show up just in time to see the key cogs of that team fall under an embarrassing cocaine scandal that stained the entire franchise. As much fun as we had torturing Weet with the Willie Stargell cocaine stories in high school, I would just assume the whole thing never happened.

It’s easy to forget that the Pirates of the 80s were every bit as pathetic as they are now. It just did not last quite as long. I lived through George Hendrick and Steve Kemp. I lived through Jason Thompson, the Sominex superstar. An unwatchable team in a terrible stadium and there but for the grace of Amos Otis go I.

And then came this brilliant five year run under Jimmy Leyland. A young, talented, entertaining team with arguably the greatest player in baseball, a fine fellow named Barry Bonds. You would think such a team could have produced at least one World Series but no! We had to sit through a Twilight Zone style three year recurring nightmare of playoff losses, each more painful than the last. That’s without even considering that mind numbing tomahawk chop which still gives me nightmares today.

Not only did the Pirates lose, they found a way to stretch every game to about four hours of pure agony. Honestly, why not just settle in for a four hour root canal without anesthetic? Is it any wonder that Leyland would smoke two packs of cigarettes every nine innings?

Thankfully they tore the whole thing apart and replaced it with a Triple A team for the last 18 years. Bonds became a national hero, then a national disgrace and I became a Cubs fan. Frankly I think Barry and his enormous head got the better deal.

The Cubs have this reputation as being lovable losers but anyone who endured Sosa, Prior, and Moises Alou knows that’s not really true. I’ve seen Sammy cork his bat and clam up before congress. I saw Alou pimp out that poor schlub in the stands rather than take responsibility for his team’s collapse. I remember Kent Mercker and the boys threatening Steve Stone for having the audacity to point out how bad they were. Maybe Kent could have spent less time avenging the Stone Pony and more time on his curve ball?

Keep in mind I have not even brought up the Carlos Zambrano reality hour yet. I could probably do 1,800 words on him alone. Millions of aspiring psychology PHDs would like a shot at that guy.

I could put up with all of this if the Cubs would just win once in awhile but they never do. They go out and spend $140 Million on aging, overpaid players who don’t give a you know what and then find a way to choke. They have a general manager who thought Milton Bradley was the answer to the team’s problems; which is comparable to taking rat poison to help your upset stomach. Why not just bring Ted Bundy in to the clubhouse?

In fairness to Jim Hendry, the Bradley debacle came after Lou Piniella pinned his team’s 2008 playoff meltdown solely on not having a left handed power hitter. And Bradley only accused half the city of racism; you know just the north side.

The Pirates lose every year in part because they have no money. The Cubs have $140 Million and spend it like Richard Pryor in Brewster’s Millions. To steal a line from that underrated classic, pick NONE OF THE ABOVE !

I attended the Cubs one game playoff victory over San Francisco (which was apparently Dusty Baker’s managerial audition) in 1998. I remember thinking the post game celebration was World Series like in nature. When I pointed that out to a fellow Cubs fan he replied…”how would we know?”

Seriously, that one victory and Leyland dressing down Bonds in 1992 might just be the two highlights of my baseball life. I can’t even really enjoy the memories of Sammy’s run to 62 dingers in ‘98 since he apparently did so with more than Flintstones vitamins in his system. My only regret is that Kerry Wood got to take a Louisville slugger to Sammy’s infamous boom box, rather than me. By the way, Wood’s shoulder feels really good this year.

I make no apologies for bailing on the Pirates; I still say they bailed on their fans 18 years ago. We should all just be thrilled that MLB does not have relegation like English soccer.

All I ask is for the love of all that’s good and holy, WHY DID I GO FROM THAT TO THE CUBS? I should have done what every other baseball free agent does and pick the Yankees.

Honestly, I think Pirate fans are better off than Cubs fan. They are numb to the pain. They go in to each season with little or no hope. They don’t expect to see wins. Going to a Pirate game is like taking your daughter miniature golfing. It does not really matter who wins; it’s just 150 minutes of entertainment for a relatively cheap price.

The Cubs tease their fans into thinking (as we often say) that “this could be the year.” Then they find new and innovative ways to collapse. They brawl in the dugout and smash water coolers with far more success than baseballs. And then they win 1 of 3 home games and 35,000 intoxicated fans gleefully sing ‘Go Cubs Go’ in the stands as if their life is complete.

So maybe Cubs and Pirate fans are not so different?

So as I ponder a life time of baseball futility amongst another lost season in Wrigleyville and the Burgh, I’m left with just one comforting thought. Just six weeks until hockey season !