Mr. Lincoln as Guest Blogger

See below, from Mr. L. Just one of the many reasons I love him. 

If you are not a sports fan, you will not understand what you are about to read.  So, you may want to consider stopping here.  Fine.  Now for those still reading, hang with me.

I grew up in a small town in west Kentucky.  Baseball was a boyhood obligation.  Did not particularly like playing, just something you had to do.  Because of my Dad, I was a Cubs fan.  We lived in a red sea of cardinal fans ( little “c” is intentional).  Our only chance to see the Cubs was to travel to St. Louis once every two or three years.  We never saw the Cubs win a game together in St. Louis.  I recall one game where they blew a 5-3 lead in the bottom of the 9th.  It was awful, but it was our experience together.  Somehow, there was pride in the Cubs futility.  In 1969, they blew a 9 game lead in less than a month to the Mets.  Again, it was awful, but it was our experience.  In 1984, I finally drug my father to Wrigley and we actually saw the Cubs win a game on an 8th inning grand slam home run by the Cubs catcher whose name I cannot recall.  It was our experience. In 2003, the year my father died, Bartman supposedly cost us the pennant.  That was when I was convinced that the spirit world could not influence our physical world because my dad would not have let that happen.  I chuckled to myself.

So, Wednesday night was special.  I could hardly watch (and didn’t most of the time.) The Cubs , somehow, won. It was great. It was our experience.  Odd, but things will never be the same again.  I may miss that.