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Cubs fans have kept the faith. For more than a century, they
have said, "Next year;" they remained loyal; they wept bitter tears when
season after season hopes were dashed on the brick and ivy of Wrigley Field;
and in my case, endured the torment and teasing of living in a household full
of White Sox fans. Even my own son is a White Sox fan who enjoys tormenting me
with truly tasteless memes about how long it has been for Cubs fans. It’s a
good thing I really love the boy.
This season, the Cubs had the best record in either league
with 103 regular season wins. And, unless they can win the World Series, that
record will just be a small asterisk that ultimately means NOTHING. If you ain’t
got that ring…
Every time I went to Wrigley Field, my "lovable
losers" did just that. They lost. Every time I have watched a game on
television, they lost. Every time I have cheered for them, they lost. My kids
call it "Momma's curse" and they used to tell me which team to cheer
for so the team they really wanted to win would. My son—the same one who
torments me about my Cubbies—says it’s a kind of black magic. (Insert
mysterious grin here…) I have refused to watch my beloved Cubbies all season
for this reason. I have refused to even listen to them on the radio because I
couldn't help myself and I was cheering for them. So, I will not watch any of
the World Series.
However, I will cheer--for the Cleveland Indians. Sorry,
Cleveland fans. Not sorry.
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