Monday, February 5, 2007
Do They Still Play the Blues in Chicago?
I guess I am used to disappointment. Since the Cubs were my first religion, I know the meaning of hope in the face of contradictory evidence. "Maybe next year" was said in the homes of Cubs fans with the fervor of a rabbinic text. I really thought that "See ya' when the Cubs win the pennant" was probably somewhere in the wisdom literature of the Bible.
Poor N.! Being raised in Albuquerque, he is just not used to coping with sports angst. By the third quarter of the game yesterday, he was taking little breaks to skateboard down the driveway--while the rest of the country is caught in a cold snap, our snow is finally melting. He was getting overwhelmed by his emotions as it became very clear that although the Bears defense was keeping the score close, the offense was just not in the game.
After the game, he would not eat dinner. He called his dog for some "fuzzy therapy" and he went to bed. I, on the other hand, screamed "What a Bummer!" and then had a Sam Adams.
As I cleaned up the kitchen, I sang: "Do they still play the blues in Chicago, when baseball season comes around? When the snow melts away, do the Cubbies still play in their ivy-covered burial ground?" So you see, I am looking forward to the new season with...resignation. The true depth of faith of the Chicago spirit.
When I went to listen to his Shema and give him a good-night hug, I taught him the essential prayer of the Chicago sports fan: ..."Maybe next year."