Home Base

The painful hurdles in life make us stronger, so my new goal is to become a body builder. While I am sore from daily curve balls, no one is stronger than die-hard Cubs fans. It is surreal to say they are playing in the World Series for the first time in 71 years. Not that anyone noticed.

I love the Cubs, but I certainly never lost sleep over their ups and downs since I entered the picture nearly 41 years ago. Until now. It’s a great distraction. I know my family members in heaven are partying hard. Great-uncle Emil was part of the chair he sat in where he and Grandpa Frank made the Cubs a central part of their bachelor pad background. Uncle Jay listened to every game with the sound off on the TV. His preferred radio announcer and a chewing tobacco tin were regulars. The memory hasn’t faded a bit. Everyone agrees while these guys would roll their eyes at the current price of tickets, they would love the Cubs at bat.

I was born and raised in Oak Park, the first suburb west of Chicago. To city natives, if I say I’m “from” Chicago I offend… but for most of us, it’s just easier and cool. I have countless childhood and teenage memories of being at Wrigley Field. When I was little, it felt like a religious service when I went to a game with my dad and a friend. I also got to march on Wrigley with my Oak Park softball team in the summer, when I was young enough to be a ballerina who also swung a bat. As a teenager I’ll admit seeing very few pitches thanks to some cute boy. Going back as a grown up was a great combination of Chi-town religion and relationships.

I left home base after high school, sinking into the cheese for almost 20 years, starting with school in Wisconsin. The Badgers were an obvious choice as far as sports loyalties go, and I feared death threats wearing anything but green and gold as a local newscaster. But I never lost my loyalty to the Cubs. There’s just something about this team.

In the meantime, I wonder where my kids, now 9 and 11, will say they grew up.  I want them to love home base like the rest of us. Born in Wisconsin, they have lived with me in Chicago since they were 5 and 7. Moms are told that babies grow up fast but the warnings don’t prepare us for the reality.

My little guy has spent almost half his life here. Assuming I blink and my kids are in college, will they say they are from Chicago? This is not a competition, I swear. I love Madison, Wisconsin like all Badgers do, but I’d get a very cheesy stare down if I said I grew up there.

I have watched hundreds of friends and strangers hugging and crying and drinking and jumping and screaming and waving their flags when the Cubs take home a “W.” We all need a home base to run to whether we win or lose.

Go Cubs Go.