Lament of an emotionally conflicted fan

Loyal readers, you're well aware that YCS is a house divided. In many ways, really--soccer-loving vs. soccer-indifferent, pro-Grossman vs. anti-Grossman, libertarian vs. socialist, Catholic vs. Jew vs. heathen vs. snake handler--but most of all in our fan allegiances. Aside from east-coast oddballs Danny and Gavin, we split pretty cleanly between Wisconsin-based teams and Chicago-based teams.

So needless to say, it's been a pretty strained summer around here, especially in recent weeks as the NL Central race tightened and the end of the season drew near. Pat hasn't answered Matt's phone calls since May; Nate sent Mike a letter bomb in July; and Paul--a raised Chicagoan, who's lived the last seven years in Wisconsin--spent the better part of August taunting the mirror and singeing himself as he struggled to pin down his allegiance.

All the while, I've been sort of in the middle. A raised Cub fan who became an obsessed Cub fan during childhood, I've since lost that blind fervor of the hometown zealot and have instead followed the game from more of a league-wide perspective, doling out allegiances to whichever teams, players, or non-human elements strike my fancy.

At the same time--as much as I feel I'm just playing the part--there's a remnant of true emotional investment in the Cubs, I think. Something beyond just the familiarity of TV-market exposure, beyond the appeal of the stadium or individual players, even beyond the circus spectacle of a Wrigley Field playoff crowd. Beyond all that, I don't think that rootless desire to watch men in blue in blue hats with red "C"s win baseball games is entirely dead to me.

But it can't be very alive either after I realized last night I was more excited to read the final scores of the Phillies and Mets than I was to watch the Brewers lose to the Padres Friday night. In fact, the latter found me more disappointed than anything for reasons entirely personal and selfish: 1) I wanted the NL Central to come down to a one-game playoff; 2) Matt and I were headed to the game Saturday, so I at least wanted the race in question going into that game; and 3) part of me really, really wanted to see the Brewers take the division.

It doesn't help that a few of my bestest friends in the whole wide world are huge Brewers supporters who've gifted me with some of my most memorable baseball-going memories of my life (one of which happened at the aforementioned Saturday game and must be shared for the audience in the comments).

But it's disappointing to see the Brewers 2007 season end at Game 162. It's been fantastic seeing up close a great baseball city gradually build to renewed relevance and popularity. But now that Milwaukee had a taste of soaring success, only to see it disintegrate, it may be easy for the fanbase to forget where they've come from to get where they are now and regress to the panic state typical of long-suffering fans of a chronic teaser. If the Brewers don't ever reach the postseason with the current core of stars, 2007 will be the one that got away, and it's come at the expense of a ramshackle behemoth created by the most exorbitant single-season free agent spending binge in MLB history. That's a little unsettling.

Would it be cathartic for me if this appearance led to the unspeakable Cubs World Series title? I don't know; maybe. Sure, if that did happen, the moment would make great theater, as they say, and it would be a joy to see close friends and family to take so much pleasure in it. But that would quickly give way to dread--first for fear of being hugged and high-fived more aggresively and repeatedly than my body can handle, then for fear that celebrations would never end, then for the weeks and months of schmaltz and rehash, and lastly for that December day when I walk into a bookstore to find an entire wall of paperbacks with names like, Slaughtering the Goat, The Death of the Curse, Leave Bartman Alone!, and Fighting to the Top: The Story of the 2007 Chicago Cubs. (Ok, so I don't ever read or go to bookstores, but I'd imagine that would happen and that it would terrify me.)

So yeah, I'm much happier than I'd be if, say, the Astros won the Central, but for someone who still grudgingly wears the label of "Cubs fan," I should probably be more convinced that the outcome made me happiest. To some, my feelings may be familiar and totally acceptable, but to most I'd imagine they're a sign of weakness and disingenuity.

For the Brewers, 2007 was still very special, and the future looks bright. At the same time, the not-so-distant past was pretty damned bright, and tomorrow is never a guarantee. This year was a genuine opportunity--not one of those phony, overachieving 6-games-back-in-August opportunities that teams often pursue to their unfortunate ruin--but shit happened, and the Cubs won a few more games. Godspeed to the Crew in '08, but it would've been nice to see it happen this year.

As for the Cubs, I'm still hoping for the best, but if the best comes, I'm not really sure my stomach can handle it.