First, the Boston Red Sox pull off three ridiculous things to win the World Series in 2004 after 86 years of misery, futility and ineptitude. (By the way, those three things were winning the ALCS from an 0-3 deficit, doing it against the Yankees and actually winning the World Series.)
Now, the Chicago White Sox, not even qualified to be also-rans when the season began, take the baseball world by storm and win the 2005 World Series after 88 years of nothing and 86 years of Eight Men Out.
What’s next, the Jets winning the Super Bowl? The Arizona Cardinals becoming a competent football organization? The Los Angeles Clippers winning the Western Conference?
Is nothing sacred anymore?
Sports used to be a place where we could count on certain inequities and revel in their peculiar but endearing charm. Some called it a curse. Some called it life.
Red Sox fans used to be the best people to talk to about sports. They had such a different view of life, as if a full commission gathered together in some sort of Apalachin-type meeting and conspired to slowly eliminate Boston from the sports almanac.
Now, they’re complacent. A bunch of incumbents resting on one laurel. All the charm is gone. They were once the epitome of LL Bean and Norman Rockwell. Sweet, innocent, endearing, heartfelt.
Now? They’re Wrangler Jeans and framed art at Target. No character. No appeal.
We still have the Chicago Cubs, for some reason considered more lovable than those ballplayers across town. With the events of the past two seasons, the Cubbies and their fans are next on St. Peter’s list.
Which makes them that much less endearing to our hearts now (true Cubs fan will likely disagree). If they win in 2006, they would be just another team exorcising demons. Where’s the enjoyment in that? No, we need the Cubs to wallow in misery a little while longer. A few more “Wait ’til next years.”
Let the Yankees or Dodgers or Cardinals win the next few World Series. Maybe even the Orioles or the Giants or the Braves. Heck, we’ll even settle for the Mets, the Athletics or the Marlins. Someone with some history of winning. Some tradition. Please!
Distancing miracles is what makes a miracle a miracle. Would the 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team’s defeat of the Soviet Union be as historic if the U.S. won in 1976, too? Let’s just say if Kurt Russell wanted to be on the big screen in horrible checkered pants and non-matching sportscoats, he’d have done it as someone other than Herb Brooks.
Without distance, we lose historical perception. Without distance, they’re “Next.”
Cubs fans deserve better than that. Sports fans do, too.